#the killer instincts are strong with him

[gremlinshatephilosophers]

Not a standard Rex, not a mini Rex, but a third more sinister thing: the chompasaurus Rex

[white-weasel]

I am staring DIRECTLY at Film Reroll Luke Skywalker watching and anticipating his next move

[dbphantom]

his nickelodeon slime arm has captivated me <- Cord, probably

[howlsofbloodhounds]

It’s haunting me. That fucking movie.

And yeah I do think Color would take care of that for him. He is naturally a giver, a caretaker—and taking care of others, Killer in particular, makes him genuinely happy.

He’d carefully wash and clean out as much as the goop as possible whenever Killer lets him— and even back when Color and Killer weren’t exactly friends just yet and Killer didn’t trust him, I feel like Color would always try to perform “aftercare” after every fight.

Of course he wouldn’t do it if Killer resists or doesn’t give consent, but if Killer ever does—probably something more along the lines of “whatever. do what you want. I can’t stop you”—and Killer is expecting just more pain and fighting, but no.

Color just wants to gently heal and clean up his wounds and injuries, and give him light forehead or cheek or throat kisses, and praise him and thank him for trusting him and letting him take care of him.

idk if magical skeletons have joints but idc rrrg my brain says killer is hypermobile

That’s a cool idea, I like that.

But I also had the image of Chara forcing Killer into painful contortions for hours on end that he often ended up broken or fractured bones because the positions were definitely not ones a body is supposed to be in. If he fails, whines, or tries to refuse, Chara finds a way to punish him or continually Resets until he either does it or gets it right.

Anyway Killer should be able to contort his body in freaky ways and I want him to do that so casually.

[joelsrose]

Tangled In Paradise: Chapter 2

previous chapter

my masterlist!

smut in the next chapter promise... heheheh

The soft morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, painting the room in golden hues. Your eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep, as the hazy remnants of your dreams clung to your mind. You reached for your phone instinctively, wanting to check the time, but… you couldn’t move.

“What the hell,” you murmured groggily, your voice barely above a whisper. And then you froze.

Joel’s arms were wrapped around you.

Not just resting near you—wrapped around you. His tanned, strong arms, were draped securely over your waist. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his grip loose but grounding.

Your breath hitched as you risked a glance at his face. You shouldn’t have. God, you shouldn’t have.

His features were softened by sleep, the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones now relaxed, his lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply. The faint shadow of scruff on his face caught the morning light, giving him a golden glow. His lashes—thicker and darker than you’d noticed before—rested against his cheeks, and his hair was slightly tousled, like he’d spent the night chasing dreams instead of reality.

He was warm. So, so warm.

And it felt too good.

His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm against your back, his quiet, even breathing filling the silence of the room. You shook your head at yourself, remembering what he’d said the night before about not being able to handle snoring. Now, he was the one snoring softly, the sound barely audible, almost endearing.

Of course, even when he was unconscious, Joel Miller was insufferably charming.

You gulped, the subtle scent of him wrapping around you like a second blanket—something earthy and clean, with a faint hint of whatever cologne he’d worn the night before.

Your pulse raced as you became painfully aware of the weight of his arm, the firmness of his body pressed lightly against yours, the way he smelled, the way his hair looked just slightly too perfect for someone who had just woken up.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath, a mix of disbelief and something far more dangerous stirring in your chest.

He stirred slightly, his grip tightening for just a moment before loosening again, his breathing never faltering. You held your breath, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts but unable to settle on a single one.

You had to move. You needed to move.

You managed to slip out of bed, carefully and quietly maneuvering Joel’s arm off you, your movements slow and deliberate. He stirred slightly, his brows furrowing as he rolled onto his back, but he didn’t wake. His breathing evened out again, and you exhaled softly in relief.

Padding across the room, you grabbed your things and made your way into the bathroom. The warm cascade of the shower was grounding as you stood beneath it, trying to shake off the flurry of emotions from waking up next to Joel Miller.

You washed away the lingering tension, dressed quickly in the steam-filled bathroom, and emerged feeling more composed—at least outwardly. Back in the room, you paused, your eyes drifting toward the bed. He was still there, sprawled on his side, the blanket half-tangled around his legs.

You told yourself you weren’t staring—this wasn’t creepy, not like a serial killer lurking in the shadows. This was… curiosity. That was it. The kind of fleeting, harmless observation a single woman might have when sharing a room with a very, very gorgeous man.

Joel stirred, his head shifting on the pillow as he stretched slightly, his muscles flexing in a way that was entirely unfair. His brow furrowed for a moment before his eyes blinked open, hazy and unfocused as he adjusted to the morning light.

Why was he so damn cute? He turned toward your side of the bed first, his brow knitting as he registered your absence, before his gaze shifted and landed on you, standing awkwardly near the dresser.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with sleep, like the rasp of a warm summer breeze against your skin.

You swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were staring. “Hi,” you breathed, your voice quieter than you intended.

Joel stretched again, his movements slow and unhurried as he propped himself up on one elbow. His eyes were still heavy-lidded, his hair slightly mussed in a way that made him look annoyingly perfect. “How’d you sleep?” he asked, his voice softening into something warm.

“Good,” you said, moving toward the bed and sinking onto your side, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck as his gaze followed you. Joel shifted, rolling onto his side to face you fully, his smile lazy but genuine. “Good,” he echoed, his grin widening just a touch.

You couldn’t help but smile back, the tension of the moment giving way to something lighter. He had that effect—a way of disarming you with just a look.

“You, uh…” you began, a laugh escaping you before you could finish. “You snore in your sleep.”

Joel’s grin vanished, replaced by a mock-offended expression. “I do not,” he said, grabbing the nearest pillow and tapping you lightly with it.

“You do!” you countered, laughing as you swatted the pillow away.

He shook his head, his grin returning as he leaned slightly closer, his voice dipping into a playful drawl. “You’re makin’ that up. Tryin’ to tarnish my good reputation.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back another laugh. “Trust me, Joel. Your reputation’s safe. But you do snore.”

Joel chuckled, leaning back against the headboard, his arms crossing lazily over his chest. “Well,” he said, his tone warm and teasing, “guess that just means you’re payin’ way too much attention to me, roomie.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat as his gaze lingered on you, soft and amused, like he was savoring every second of this moment.

And damn it, you thought, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

A loud knock echoed from the door, followed by Maria’s unmistakable voice, sing-song and far too chipper for this hour. “Wakey, wakeyyyy!”

Joel groaned, throwing his head back onto the pillow with a dramatic sigh. “Christ,” he muttered, his voice muffled as he covered his face with one hand. “Thought vacation meant sleepin’ in.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy as you turned toward him. “You’re lazy.”

Joel’s hand dropped from his face, revealing a grin that was equal parts playful and dangerous. “Take that back.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you sat up straighter. “Or what?”

“Or,” Joel said, shifting suddenly, his grin widening as he leaned toward you, “I’ll tickle you.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His gaze locked onto yours, the challenge sparking between you like a live wire. Before you could move, his hand darted toward your side, his fingers brushing lightly against your ribs.

“Joel!” you shrieked, twisting away as laughter bubbled out of you uncontrollably.

“Take it back,” he said, his voice low and teasing, though his grin betrayed just how much fun he was having.

“Okay, okay!” you gasped, squirming as his fingers lingered for just a second too long, sending a thrill up your spine. “You’re not lazy! Happy?”

“Very,” Joel replied, his voice softening as the laughter between you ebbed into a quiet hum.

You froze for a moment, suddenly acutely aware of how close he was. His hand was still on your side, his thumb brushing gently against the fabric of your shirt. His face was just inches from yours, his breath warm against your cheek, and his eyes—God, his eyes—held a depth that made your pulse race.

Neither of you moved.

The room felt smaller, the air thicker as Joel’s gaze flickered briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. His expression softened, the teasing grin fading into something quieter, almost hesitant.

“I should, uh…” he began, his voice low and rough. He cleared his throat, his hand dropping back to his side. “I should shower.”

You nodded quickly, your breath catching as the spell between you broke. “Yeah,” you said, your voice a little too high. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Joel stood, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed his things from the dresser. He paused by the door for a moment, glancing back at you with a small, almost sheepish smile. Then he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you alone with the sound of the shower starting and the lingering heat of his presence still crackling in the air.

You let out a long, shaky breath, pressing your hand against your chest as if that could calm the wild fluttering there.

What the hell just happened?

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The breakfast table was a colorful mosaic of buffet plates piled high with everything the resort had to offer. Maria had gone for a perfectly Instagram-worthy selection: fresh papaya, golden pineapple slices, and a delicate croissant resting on the side of her plate. Tommy, on the other hand, had opted for the classic “pile it on” approach—eggs, bacon, pancakes, and what looked like a heap of hash browns drowning in syrup.

You’d chosen something light—ripe watermelon slices, a dollop of creamy yogurt, and a sprinkling of granola. Meanwhile, Joel, seated beside you, had a more straightforward plate: scrambled eggs, toast, and a generous helping of crispy bacon.

The morning sunlight spilled across the outdoor dining area, painting the terrace in soft gold. Beyond the railings, the ocean shimmered, waves lazily rolling onto the shore, the sound mingling with the faint rustle of palm trees swaying in the warm breeze.

It was the kind of day that felt too perfect to be real, the sky impossibly blue, with just enough fluffy clouds to look like a postcard.

Maria set her fork down with a soft clink, her face bright with excitement. “Alright,” she said, clapping her hands lightly. “Today is jam-packed!”

She pulled out her phone, scrolling through their itinerary. “First up, we’ve got canoeing, which’ll take us out to a great snorkeling spot. Then,” she continued, ticking things off with her finger, “we’ve got some leisure time to relax by the pool or whatever. After that, there’s a massage situation booked for all of us. And then, another break before dinner.”

“Christ,” Joel muttered, leaning back in his chair and reaching for his glass of orange juice. He took a slow sip before raising an eyebrow at Maria. “You sure this isn’t boot camp?”

“Hey,” Tommy interjected, pointing his fork in Joel’s direction. “We paid for this shit, so we might as well get our money’s worth.”

Joel rolled his eyes, his lips twitching into a faint grin.

“What d’you think, sweetheart?” Tommy said, turning his attention to you.

You smiled, spearing a piece of watermelon with your fork. “Sounds amazing,” you said, taking a bite and savoring the burst of sweetness.

“Good,” Tommy said with a triumphant nod. “See, Joel? Why can’t you be more like this one?”

Joel let out a quiet laugh, his gaze sliding over to you as he reached for his coffee cup. As he took a sip, your gaze flicked to the lineup of drinks in front of him: orange juice, coffee, and what looked like a bottle of water.

You couldn’t resist. “Jesus, Joel,” you said, tilting your head as you gestured toward his array. “How many drinks does one man need?”

He glanced at the table in front of him, then back at you with a playful shrug. “What can I say? Gotta stay hydrated. It’s gonna be a long day, remember?”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Hydrated or caffeinated?”

“Both,” he said with a wink, taking another sip of coffee. “Gotta keep up with you.”

Maria, clearly oblivious to the banter, was already chattering about how excited she was for the snorkeling.

Tommy chimed in occasionally, but your attention was stuck on Joel—the way his grin lingered just a little too long, the way the sunlight caught the faint scruff on his jaw, the way he seemed to make the most mundane things—like sipping coffee—look effortless.

You shook your head, turning back to your plate. It was going to be a long day indeed.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

Joel lay sprawled across the bed, his red swim trunks low on his hips and his bare chest catching the sunlight filtering through the curtains. His phone was in one hand, the other resting lazily across his stomach as he scrolled with a contented sigh. “Jesus,” he called out, his voice breaking the quiet hum of the room. “How long does it take to put on a swimsuit? Maria’s gonna kill me, then you, if we’re late.”

“Shut up, Joel,” you called back from the bathroom, your tone sharp but not without a smile.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, a grin audible in his voice as he returned to his scrolling.

You exhaled slowly, looking at your reflection in the mirror. The bikini fit perfectly, its fabric hugging your curves, but you found yourself adjusting the straps for what felt like the hundredth time. Why were you so nervous? It was just a swimsuit. It wasn’t like Joel hadn’t seen people in far less before.

Your gaze drifted down, taking in the lines of your body with a critical eye. The curve of your stomach, the way your hips flared, the softness in places that didn’t quite match the airbrushed perfection you’d seen in magazines. You bit your lip, suddenly self-conscious.

“Hey,” Joel called out again, his voice softer now, tinged with curiosity. “You sure you’re all good in there?”

“Yeah,” you answered quickly, pulling on your swim cover-up and giving yourself one last glance.

As you opened the bathroom door, Joel glanced up from his phone. The way his eyes lit up, his lips curving into a slow, genuine smile, made your pulse falter for a second.

“Alright,” he said, swinging his legs off the bed and standing with an easy stretch. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

You tried to ignore the warmth spreading up your neck as he grabbed his towel and gestured for you to follow.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The beach was postcard-perfect, the sand a soft, powdery white that stretched endlessly under the vibrant turquoise sky. The waves lapped gently at the shore, their rhythmic sound blending with the occasional laughter of other vacationers. The salty tang of the ocean hung in the warm air, mingling with the faint scent of sunscreen as the sun kissed your skin.

Joel walked beside you, his towel slung over one broad shoulder, his gait unhurried, as though he owned every step he took. His confidence was maddening, casual in a way that made it seem effortless.

Ahead, Maria and Tommy stood near a row of brightly colored canoes, their chatter punctuated by Maria’s bubbly laughter as Tommy wrestled with his life vest straps. The canoeing instructor, a lean man with sun-bleached hair and an easy smile, waved you over.

“Finally!” Maria called, her hands on her hips. “What took you guys so long?”

Joel smirked, his hand brushing lightly against the small of your back as he stepped ahead of you. The touch was fleeting, barely there, but enough to send a ripple of warmth through you.

“Blame the roomie,” Joel said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Takes forever to get ready.”

Your jaw dropped, and you turned to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged, his smirk widening. “Just callin’ it like I see it.”

Maria laughed, rolling her eyes. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s get moving before we miss our spot.”

Before you could correct her, the instructor approached, his grin wide and welcoming. “Hello, beautiful couple,” he greeted.

“Oh, we’re not—” you started, but Joel cut in smoothly, stepping forward with a hand outstretched.

“Hi,” Joel said, his voice easy and confident. “Name’s Joel.”

The instructor—Kai—shook his hand, smiling. “Pleasure to meet you, Joel. And you?”

You replied with your name whilst Joel slid his arm around your waist like it belonged there. “But you can just call her perfect. Isn’t she?”

Your mouth fell open, a mix of disbelief and embarrassment flooding your chest.

Kai smiled warmly, nodding. “Yes, very.”

“Thanks, man,” Joel replied with a wink. “Two years together, and she still keeps me on my toes.”

“Alright,” Kai said, handing you both life vests. “Pop these on, and I’ll guide you to your canoe.”

“Yes, sir,” Joel replied, saluting jokingly as he took the vest.

You turned to Joel as Kai walked back toward Maria and Tommy, your voice low but sharp. “Seriously, Joel?”

“What?” Joel shrugged innocently as he pulled on his life vest. “It is a couples vacation.”

You rolled your eyes, fumbling with your straps when you realized something: you still had your swim cover on.

“Shit,” you muttered, biting your lip as your fingers hovered at the hem of the light fabric. You hesitated for a moment, but there was no avoiding it. The life vest wouldn’t fit properly over the cover.

You shook off your doubts, pulling the cover over your head in one swift motion and stuffing it into your bag. Grabbing the life vest from the ground, you were too focused on fastening the straps to notice Joel’s gaze.

But Joel noticed everything.

His hand froze mid-buckle, his gaze fixed on you, tracing the way your red swimsuit hugged your body. The way the fabric dipped and clung to your curves, the soft swell of your chest, the way your thighs looked under the bright sunlight. Holy shit, he thought, his mind scrambling for words as his throat went dry.

You, completely unaware of Joel’s lingering gaze, fumbled with your straps, your cheeks burning from the rush of heat brought on by the sun, his presence, and the vulnerability of standing there in nothing but your swimsuit. Your hair clung to your face, the strands sticking stubbornly as your fingers trembled over the life vest’s clasps.

“Fuck,” you murmured under your breath, the frustration bubbling up as everything seemed to work against you.

Joel, who had been pretending to adjust his own straps while watching you from the corner of his eye, stepped forward. His voice dropped low, warm and steady. “Here,” he murmured, closing the small gap between you. “Let me do it.”

You froze as he reached out, his hands brushing lightly over yours before taking over. His fingers moved with a practiced ease, tugging and adjusting the straps until the vest fit snugly against your frame. He was so close you could feel the faint warmth of his skin, his scent—a mix of the ocean breeze and sunscreen—wrapping around you like a blanket.

“There,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “Can’t leave you unbuckled now, can we?”

You looked up, your breath catching as you caught the faintest flicker of something in his eyes—an openness, a quiet sort of tenderness beneath his usual teasing grin.

“You look—” Joel began, his voice softer now, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by Maria’s voice calling out from the shore.

“Let’s go, people! Canoes are waiting!”

Joel stepped back, the moment dissolving into the salty air. His hand brushed your shoulder lightly—a fleeting touch that sent an electric warmth rippling through you.

“C’mon, roomie,” he said, his grin returning as he glanced over his shoulder, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “Can’t keep Maria waiting.”

You let out a shaky breath, grabbing your paddle and falling into step behind him as he led the way toward the water.

The sun blazed above, the waves lapping gently at the shore, and the rhythmic crunch of sand beneath your feet mixed with the hum of the ocean. Your heart raced—not from the heat or exertion, but from the way Joel had looked at you just moments ago. Like you were the only thing worth seeing.

This was going to be a long, long day.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

“Alright,” Kai began, his voice calm and steady as he gestured toward the canoes. “A few safety things, my beautiful couples.”

Then, as if on cue, his arm slid around your waist, his hand settling against the curve of your hip. The gesture was so smooth, so natural, it startled you for half a second. The other hand still held his paddle, but his focus was entirely on you.

You felt his warmth immediately, the strength of his touch grounding you. Instinctively, your arm looped around his waist, your fingers brushing against his skin.

“There we go,” Joel murmured, his voice low and close against your ear, his breath brushing against your hair. “Not so hard, huh?”

“Shut up and listen,” you whispered back, though the corner of your mouth betrayed you, tugging upward into a small smile.

Kai smiled warmly, his sun-bleached hair catching the light. “Life vests stay on at all times. Keep your paddle movements synchronized—makes things much easier. And most importantly, relax and enjoy. This is supposed to be fun.”

Beside you, Maria nodded eagerly, already clutching Tommy’s arm like they were gearing up for an Olympic event. Joel, however, seemed completely at ease, standing with his paddle resting casually against his shoulder.

Kai clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright! Now I’ll help you settle into the canoes.”

He reached out, his hand steady as he gestured for you to step forward. “Ladies first,” he said with a kind smile.

You placed your hand in his, letting him guide you carefully into the canoe. The wooden surface dipped slightly under your weight, the gentle sway of the water rocking the vessel.

“Thanks, Kai,” you murmured, settling yourself onto the front seat.

Kai nodded before turning to Joel. “Alright, hop in behind her.”

Joel stepped forward, his movements deliberate as he climbed into the narrow canoe. The space was tight—too tight—and as he sat down behind you, his chest practically pressed against your back.

You froze for a moment, acutely aware of every inch of him. The way his thighs bracketed yours, the solid heat of his torso against you, the faint brush of his breath near your neck.

“Small canoe, huh?” Joel murmured, his voice dipping into that warm, teasing drawl.

You turned your head just enough to catch his gaze, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. “Is that a complaint?” you asked, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

“Not at all,” he replied, his grin widening as his hands adjusted the paddle across his lap. “I’m likin’ the view from back here.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to the water, but the warmth blooming in your cheeks betrayed you.

“You good up there?” Joel asked, his voice softer now, the teasing note replaced with something gentler.

You nodded, unable to trust your voice as the water lapped softly against the sides of the canoe.

“Alright,” Kai called out from the shore, his voice pulling you back to the moment. “You’re all set! Follow the guide, and you’ll be at the snorkeling spot in no time.”

“Bye, Kai!” Tommy shouted, his voice carrying over the gentle crash of the waves as he and Maria’s canoe began to glide ahead.

Tommy twisted slightly in his seat, throwing a glance over his shoulder toward your canoe. “Last one there’s a rotten egg!” he hollered, his tone full of childish glee.

“Fuckin' child,” Joel muttered under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching as he adjusted his paddle in the water.

You laughed softly, turning your head just enough to catch his expression. “Thought you’d be all over the competition,” you teased, your tone light as you dipped your own paddle into the water.

Joel leaned back slightly, the movement so casual it sent another wave of warmth radiating from where his knees bracketed yours. His drawl was slow and deliberate as he replied, “Yeah, usually. But…” He paused, his voice dropping just enough to make you glance back at him again. His dark eyes caught the sunlight, softening as they settled on you. “I don’t really wanna rush this.”

Your breath hitched slightly, and you quickly turned your gaze back to the water, grateful he couldn’t see the blush blooming across your cheeks. The soft lapping of the ocean seemed to amplify the silence, the moment hanging delicately in the air.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” Joel added, his voice dipping into that playful drawl that sent your pulse skittering.

You shook your head, biting back a smile. “I’m not shy,” you countered, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you.

“Good,” Joel murmured, his paddle dipping into the water with smooth precision, guiding the canoe forward in an unhurried rhythm. His voice, low and deliberate, sent ripples through the air as surely as the paddle stirred the water. “’Cause I don’t plan on rushin’ any of this.”

Your breath caught, the words settling over you like the warmth of the sun, and before you could respond, you felt it—a gentle brush against your back.

Joel’s hand, warm and steady, moved to sweep your hair off your shoulder, the strands catching slightly against his rough fingertips. The motion was casual, deliberate, like he’d done it a thousand times before, though you both knew he hadn’t. His fingers lingered as they slid over the curve of your shoulder, tracing random, absentminded shapes against your skin.

A circle.

A letter—maybe the start of your name.

A heart.

The paddle in your hands suddenly felt heavier, your grip tightening as you tried to focus on anything other than the steady, lazy patterns he was drawing.

The teasing lilt in his voice still lingered in the air, but beneath it, there was something softer, something quiet and sure. It was that steadiness that left you breathless, the way his touch spoke a language you didn’t quite know how to name yet.

You dared a glance over your shoulder, your heart pounding against your ribs, but Joel’s eyes were fixed on the water. His face was relaxed, his lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, like he wasn’t fully aware of the way he was undoing you. Or maybe he was, and that was the worst part.

Tommy and Maria’s laughter floated back to you from ahead, breaking the moment like a wave against the shore.

“Better keep up,” Joel said, his voice light now, the teasing edge returning. He shifted slightly, his hand falling back to his paddle. “Or Tommy’s gonna gloat all day.”

You exhaled, shaking your head to clear the haze he’d left behind. Glancing back at him, you let a small smile tug at the corners of your mouth. “Then stop holding me back.”

Joel’s laugh rumbled low and warm, the sound wrapping around you like a familiar melody. “Alright, alright,” he drawled, dipping his paddle into the water with purpose. “Let’s show ’em what we’ve got.”

The two of you found a rhythm quickly, your paddles slicing through the sparkling water in unison. The canoe glided smoothly over the waves, the sunlight catching in golden streaks across the surface. The distant hum of the ocean filled the silence between your playful exchanges, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that felt shared, almost sacred, as though the air between you held something fragile and new.

You stole a glance at him again, watching as he focused on the water ahead, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration. There was an ease to Joel—something that made you feel both grounded and entirely unmoored all at once.

And as the two of you paddled forward, the waves lapping gently against the canoe, you couldn’t shake the thought that this trip was about to change everything.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

When you reached the snorkeling spot, your breath caught in your throat. The water was impossibly clear, a shimmering expanse of turquoise and deep azure stretching out before you. Beneath the surface, you could already see flashes of vibrant coral and darting fish, their colors bright and alive.

Tommy and Maria had beaten you there, their canoe already tied off and bobbing gently near the guide’s boat. They were standing on a small platform, Maria excitedly chatting as Tommy adjusted her snorkel gear.

Joel’s voice pulled you back. “I don’t know how it keeps gettin’ better,” he murmured, his tone quieter than usual, almost reverent. His gaze wasn’t on the water, though—it was on you, his brown eyes warm and steady as they took you in.

You turned away quickly, focusing on the task of securing the canoe.

Joel hopped out first, the canoe rocking slightly as his feet hit the platform. He turned back to you, holding out a hand. “C’mon, roomie. Don’t make me carry you outta there.”

You rolled your eyes but placed your hand in his. His grip was firm, his palm warm against yours as he steadied you, his other hand brushing lightly against your waist as you stepped out onto the platform.

The guide handed you your snorkeling gear, a mask and fins. You fiddled with the straps on your mask, trying to secure it, but Joel was already beside you, watching your clumsy attempts with an amused grin.

“Here,” he said, stepping in close. His hands brushed yours as he adjusted the strap at the back of your head, his touch gentle but sure. “Gotta get it snug so you don’t end up drinkin’ half the ocean.”

You stood still, the warmth of his hands and the nearness of him making it hard to focus.

He pulled back slightly, tilting his head to check the fit. “There,” he said with a faint smirk. “Atta girl. You’re good to go.”

You muttered a quiet thanks, adjusting your grip on the fins as Joel turned to grab his own gear.

He slipped his mask over his face and adjusted it in one fluid motion, his movements practiced and easy. With a glance back at you, he grinned through the clear plastic. “Watch this,” he said, his tone playful, before diving into the water with a clean, powerful arc.

The splash sent a light spray over the platform, and you instinctively shielded your face. When you looked up again, Joel had surfaced, pushing his hair back with both hands as he treaded water effortlessly.

He looked up at you, his grin widening. “C’mon in. Water’s perfect.”

You hesitated for a moment, adjusting your mask nervously before nodding. Pulling it into place, you stepped to the edge of the platform, your heart thudding as you tried to mimic Joel’s graceful dive.

Instead, you landed with a far less coordinated splash, water rushing around you as you surfaced with a sputter.

Joel’s laugh rang out, warm and easy as he swam closer. “Not bad,” he teased, treading water just a few feet away. “Little more practice, and you’ll be Olympic-level.”

You pushed your wet hair out of your face, laughing despite yourself. “Shut up, Joel.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You followed Joel through the water, the gentle current guiding you both as you moved together. Below, the ocean was alive with color. Schools of tiny, shimmering fish darted in perfect harmony, their scales catching the sunlight like scattered jewels. Bright coral in hues of orange, pink, and purple rose in intricate formations, their surfaces dotted with swaying anemones and the occasional sea star clinging to the rocky edges.

A larger fish, vibrant and striped like something out of a dream, glided past you, its movements slow and unbothered by your presence. You felt your breath catch, even through the snorkel, as a sea turtle drifted into view, its serene, graceful movements making everything else seem to pause.

Joel swam just ahead, his powerful strokes propelling him forward with ease. He glanced back over his shoulder, making sure you were still following. The moment your eyes met through your goggles, he paused, floating in place as he gestured to something below—a hidden cluster of coral glowing faintly in the filtered sunlight.

You both lingered, sharing a quiet, wordless moment as you watched the vibrant life below. When you turned back to him, his expression behind the mask was unmistakable: awe, not just for the ocean, but for the shared experience. It was a connection, clear and simple, spoken in the language of glances and silence.

When you finally surfaced, the world above felt almost too loud after the stillness beneath the waves. The soft lap of the water against your shoulders and the warmth of the sun on your face grounded you as you treaded water, catching your breath.

Joel moved closer, his strokes smooth and deliberate, until he was just inches away. Reaching out, he brushed a wet strand of hair from your face with his fingers, his touch light and careful.

“There,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, his eyes meeting yours. “Now I can see you better.”

Your cheeks heated, though the cool water around you did little to hide it. “Thanks,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s grin softened into something quieter, more sincere, before he turned, treading water as his gaze drifted over the expanse of the ocean. “This is somethin’ else,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of wonder.

“It’s amazing,” you agreed, your heart still racing from more than just the swim.

He tilted his head toward you, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Did you see that one fish? The big striped one?”

You laughed, nodding. “Yeah. It looked like it belonged in a painting.”

Joel chuckled, his deep laugh sending ripples through the water around you. “I’m startin’ to think maybe I should stick with you. You’re good luck.”

“Oh, please,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “Pretty sure it’s the other way around.”

Joel moved closer again, his shoulder brushing yours as you floated. “Guess we’re both lucky, then.”

The weight of his words lingered in the air between you, their meaning deeper than the casual tone he’d used. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you, suspended in the gentle sway of the ocean.

“Hey!” Maria’s voice called from a few feet away, shattering the spell. “You guys coming to check out the reef, or are you just gonna float there all day?”

Joel grinned, his attention flickering briefly to Maria as she swam off before turning back to you. His grin softened into something smaller, more intimate as he moved closer, the water rippling gently around him.

“So,” he said, his voice low and warm, “what d’you think?”

“Huh?” You blinked, distracted by how close he was, his brown eyes catching the light in a way that made it hard to think straight.

“You think Tommy’s gonna do it here?” Joel asked, his lips tugging into that crooked smile you were beginning to recognize as trouble.

“Here?” you replied, wrinkling your nose slightly as you glanced around. “Hell no. It’s too wet.”

Joel’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest, his shoulders shaking slightly as he tilted his head back. “Too wet, huh? That’s your expert analysis?”

You rolled your eyes, though a grin tugged at your lips. “What? It’s not romantic if you’re dripping saltwater all over someone during a proposal.”

“Guess you’ve got a point,” Joel drawled, his eyes narrowing playfully. He leaned in just slightly, the space between you shrinking. “Still think you’re gonna lose our bet, though.”

You raised an eyebrow, your pulse quickening as his words lingered in the air. “You underestimate me, Miller.”

“Do I now?” His voice dipped, teasing but softer, his gaze locking with yours.

The warmth of his nearness, the way the water seemed to hold you both in a weightless bubble, made it hard to respond. Before you could think of a clever comeback, Tommy’s voice cut through the moment.

“Joel!” Tommy called, his tone carrying over the gentle sound of the waves.

Joel blinked, the spell between you breaking as he turned toward his brother. “C’mon!” Tommy shouted, gesturing toward the reef where Maria was already pointing excitedly at something underwater.

Joel turned back to you with a soft sigh, his grin returning as he treaded water. “Guess I’m bein’ summoned.”

“Better go, Miller,” you said, though your voice came out quieter than you intended.

He paused for half a second longer, his eyes flicking over your face as if trying to memorize something. Then he nodded, a teasing light back in his gaze. “Don’t fall too far behind.”

With that, he pushed off the water, his strong strokes propelling him toward Tommy and Maria. You watched him go, your heart still racing in your chest, the weight of his words and the closeness of his presence lingering in the space he left behind.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The sun hung high in the sky, its golden warmth wrapping around you as the canoe gently rocked over the glittering water. The rhythmic sound of Joel’s paddle slicing through the waves filled the air, steady and uncomplaining.

You had given up paddling long ago, letting your oar rest across your lap as you leaned back slightly, soaking in the breeze and the ocean’s soft lull. Part of you expected Joel to tease you, to make some snarky comment about how you were letting him do all the work, but he hadn’t said a word.

No complaints, no jokes. Just the quiet strength of him paddling, propelling the canoe forward with ease.

You cracked an eye open and turned your head slightly to glance at him. He was focused, his brow furrowed in concentration, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing with each stroke. You wished you could see more, the way his body worked with the motion, but the angle of the canoe kept it out of view.

With a soft sigh, you let your eyes close again, the warmth of the sun and the gentle sway of the canoe lulling you into a drowsy haze.

“You tired?” Joel’s voice broke through the quiet, low and gentle.

“A little,” you admitted, cracking one eye open again to meet his gaze.

You hesitated, feeling a twinge of guilt. “Sorry for not helping,” you murmured, your voice soft. “My arms feel like they’re gonna fall off.”

Joel’s grin softened into something warmer, and he shook his head. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. I gotcha.”

The steadiness in his voice, the way he said it so simply, made your chest ache in a way you didn’t quite understand.

“I mean it,” he continued, his gaze flicking briefly toward you before returning to the horizon. “You did good out there. Deserve a little break.”

You bit your lip, the unexpected sweetness of his words leaving you momentarily speechless. “Thanks, Joel,” you said quietly, your voice almost lost in the sound of the waves.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

As the canoe bumped gently against the shore, Joel hopped out first, his feet sinking into the warm sand as he steadied the vessel. Without a word, he turned back to you, extending a hand.

“C’mon,” he said, his voice soft but firm, the sun catching the faintest sheen on his tanned skin.

You placed your hand in his, and he helped you step out carefully, his grip steady and sure. His other hand hovered near your waist, ready to catch you if needed. Once you were firmly on the ground, he let go, but only long enough to reach for the clasp of your life vest.

“Hold still,” he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder as he unfastened the straps. It was effortless, as though it was a role he’d naturally assumed—quietly taking care of you without needing to be asked.

The thought sent a strange flutter through your chest, and for a moment, your brain slipped. You wondered—just for a second—if this was what it would feel like to actually date Joel. To have him by your side, steady and dependable, with those fleeting touches and that easy charm that always seemed to catch you off guard.

You shook the thought away quickly, biting the inside of your cheek. Get a grip. You’re just really, really lonely.

Kai’s voice brought you back to the present. “How was it, my beautiful couples?” he asked, standing from where he’d been lounging on the sand.

“It was amazing, Kai,” Joel said, stepping forward and returning the smile as he handed over the paddles.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Joel,” Kai said, nodding approvingly.

Before you could excuse yourselves, Kai tilted his head and smiled. “Now,” he added, “would you two like a photo together?”

“Oh, you don’t need to—” you began, waving it off.

“We’d love that,” Joel cut in smoothly, pulling his phone from his pocket and handing it to Kai.

You glanced at him, your cheeks warming, but before you could protest further, Joel stepped closer, his hand finding its way to your waist as if it belonged there.

“Alright,” Kai said, holding the phone up. “Three, two, one—Hawaii!”

You managed a smile, though you couldn’t help noticing how natural Joel’s arm felt around you, the weight of his hand grounding and oddly comforting. As the shutter clicked, you glanced up, only to catch Joel looking down at you instead of the camera, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners with the hint of a grin.

Kai passed the phone back, nodding in approval. “You two make a very beautiful couple,” he said earnestly.

“Thanks, Kai,” Joel replied smoothly, his tone casual but warm.

You, however, were less composed. “Uh, thanks,” you murmured, feeling the heat creeping up your neck as you avoided Joel’s gaze.

The two of you leaned in to look at the photo, and your stomach flipped at the sight. Kai had captured the perfect moment: Joel’s arm around your waist, his head tilted slightly toward yours, the both of you glowing against the backdrop of the sparkling ocean.

It wasn’t just a good picture. You did look like a couple—a beautiful one. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a second, you wondered if Joel was thinking the same thing.

But before you could say anything, Joel’s voice broke the quiet. “Not bad,” he said, his tone light as he nudged your shoulder gently. “Might be my new favorite photo.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head.

And as you walked back toward the resort together, his hand brushing against yours just enough to make your heart skip, you couldn’t help but wonder if Kai’s words had struck a chord in both of you.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

Joel hummed beside you as he carried your things, his steps easy and unhurried, like the weight in his hands didn’t bother him at all. The sound of his voice—a low, rhythmic hum—mingled with the ocean breeze, setting an oddly calming pace to your walk back to the hotel.

“What you gonna do now?” he asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Maria and Tommy had peeled off, deciding to check out the local markets, leaving the two of you with no agenda for the afternoon.

You lifted a hand to shield your eyes from the sun, the heat making everything shimmer. When your gaze met Joel’s, you noticed the way his brown eyes glinted in the light, warm and inviting, as they always seemed to be.

“Hmm,” you mused, drawing out the sound as if you were deciding right there on the spot. “I was thinking about lying by the pool. Maybe tanning, reading a book...” You glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction. “What about you?”

Joel grinned, his free hand tucking casually into the pocket of his shorts. “Oh, you know, might hit the gym, grab a drink at the bar...”

Your chest dipped slightly at the answer, disappointment creeping in before you could push it away. “Oh,” you murmured, dropping your gaze to the ground. “Okay.”

Joel’s chuckle pulled you back. He nudged your shoulder with his own, the gentle touch a small spark against the heaviness of your thoughts. “I’m jokin’,” he said, his grin softening into something warmer. “I’ll come with you—if that’s alright.”

The pang of disappointment evaporated, replaced with a warmth that spread through your chest. You gave him a small smile. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Alright, then,” he said with a shrug, his grin widening just enough to make your heart skip.

When you reached the pool area, the sight before you was nothing short of breathtaking. The infinity pool stretched out like glass, its edge merging seamlessly with the endless turquoise ocean beyond.

Lounge chairs lined the perimeter, neatly arranged under gently swaying palm trees, their shadows swiping lazily across the stone. The faint sounds of waves crashing in the distance mixed with the chatter and laughter of other vacationers, creating a soft, serene buzz.

You picked a pair of loungers near the edge, the view too stunning to resist. Settling onto one, you adjusted the straps of your swimsuit, feeling the sun warm your skin as you leaned back. Joel took the chair beside you, sprawling out with an ease that made you almost envious.

For a blissful moment, everything felt perfect.

Then your stomach betrayed you.

A loud, unmistakable growl broke the silence, echoing louder than it had any right to. Your eyes widened in mortification as you sat up slightly, adjusting your sunglasses in an attempt to hide the heat creeping up your neck.

Joel turned his head toward you, his brow lifting in amusement. “Shit, darlin’, you hungry?”

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. But your stomach growled again, as if determined to betray you.

Joel chuckled, a low, warm sound that rumbled in his chest as he sat up. He reached for his wallet from the side of his lounger, flipping it open with ease. “Tell that to the noise that just escaped ya.”

“Joel,” you groaned, tugging your sunglasses down slightly to glare at him.

“What?” he teased, leaning over to grab a menu resting nearby. “What’re you in the mood for?”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him through the lenses of your sunglasses. “What do you wanna eat?”

He shook his head, his grin widening. “Nuh-uh. Your choice, roomie. They’ve got all kinds of stuff.” He scanned the menu, his finger trailing down the list. “Fish and chips, calamari... nachos.”

Your eyebrows perked up at the mention of nachos, and Joel caught it instantly.

“Nachos it is,” he said, closing the menu and standing up in one fluid motion.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quickly, your voice softer now.

Joel leaned down slightly, his eyes catching yours over the edge of your sunglasses. His voice dipped, warm and steady. “Hey,” he said, a small, teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Sit. Relax. Let me take care of it.”

And before you could argue further, he was off, striding toward the poolside café with a confidence that made it impossible not to watch him go.

You sank back into the lounger, letting out a soft breath as you adjusted your sunglasses. The sun was warm, the pool glittered like something out of a dream, and Joel was, well... Joel.

You couldn’t help but watch him as he walked toward the café, the sun glinting off his tanned skin, the slight roll of his shoulders with each step. There was something so effortlessly commanding about him—the way his muscles flexed, the easy grin he flashed to the staff, the way people around him seemed to light up as if his presence was a gift.

He was... perfect.

Your thoughts spiraled for a moment. How was this man single? There had to be a catch. Maybe he was secretly toxic. He had to be—someone this gorgeous, this charming, couldn’t possibly be real without some glaring flaw.

You sighed, shaking your head as if to physically rid yourself of the thoughts. But before you could dwell any longer, Joel was making his way back, balancing a large plate of nachos in one hand, a pink lemonade and a beer in the other.

The nachos were a masterpiece: a mountain of golden chips piled high with melted cheese, fresh guacamole, tangy salsa, sour cream, and a generous drizzle of jalapeño slices scattered across the top. The colors were vibrant, the steam rising faintly from the plate as Joel set it down on the small table between your loungers.

“Here we are,” he said casually, settling into the chair beside you and taking a swig of his beer, the condensation from the bottle leaving a faint sheen on his fingertips.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the food. “Oh my god, Joel. This looks so good.” You looked up at him, your voice softer now. “You seriously didn’t have to do this.”

Joel shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he rested the beer against his knee. “No big deal,” he said, his drawl warm and easy. “Can’t have ya starving on me, now, can I?”

You gave him a small, grateful smile before reaching for a chip, loaded with cheese and guac. The first bite was heavenly, the flavors bursting across your tongue.

Joel watched you with a quiet smile, his gaze soft as you hummed in approval. “Good?” he asked.

“So good,” you managed between bites, savoring the combination of salty, creamy, and tangy.

Joel chuckled, his laugh low and warm. He took another sip of his beer, leaning forward slightly. “So,” he said, his tone shifting into something lighter but curious, “tell me more about you.”

You blinked, glancing at him as you wiped your fingers on a napkin. “What do you mean?”

Joel tilted his head, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners with his grin. “I mean, I’m sharin’ a bed with you for a week, and I don’t even know your last name. Feels a little backwards, don’t ya think?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Alright, fair point. What do you wanna know?”

“Everything,” he said simply, his grin fading into something softer. “Start with the basics. Where’re you from? What do you do? Why’d you say yes to this trip?”

You hesitated for a moment, taken aback by how genuine he sounded. Most people didn’t actually care when they asked questions like that, but Joel’s gaze was steady, curious, like he really wanted to know.

“Well,” you began, settling back in your chair. “I’m from a small town—like, really small. The kind where everyone knows everyone and nothing exciting ever happens.”

Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah? What’s that like?”

“Comfortable,” you admitted. “But also... stifling, sometimes. You grow up wanting to see more, do more. So I moved for college, and I’ve stayed in the city ever since.”

Joel hummed, swirling his beer in his hand as he leaned back. “Makes sense. So, what do you do now?”

You smiled, feeling a little shy under his steady gaze. “I work in marketing. It’s not the most exciting thing in the world, but I like it. I like the creativity of it, I guess.”

“That’s somethin’,” Joel said, his voice thoughtful. “Creativity’s important. Bet you’re good at it.”

You blushed, ducking your head slightly. “What about you?”

“Me?” Joel shrugged, his grin returning. “Construction, mostly. It’s hard work, but I like it. Buildin’ somethin’ from the ground up, seein’ the results. Feels good.”

You nodded, your gaze drifting to his hands—strong, calloused, capable. It suited him.

“And this trip?” he asked, his voice pulling you back. “Why’d you say yes?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Honestly? Maria begged. And I figured... why not? New Year’s in Hawaii sounded better than sitting on my couch with a bottle of wine and Netflix.”

Joel’s grin widened. “Yeah? Glad you came?”

You glanced at him, the warmth in his eyes making your chest tighten. “Yeah,” you said softly, almost to yourself. “I think I am.”

Joel nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he reached for a chip. “Good,” he said, his tone easy but laced with something deeper. “Would’ve been a shame if I came all this way and didn’t meet you.”

Your heart stuttered, but Joel just leaned back, popping the chip into his mouth as if he hadn’t just said something that turned your world on its head.

“So, huh,” Joel began, his voice teasing as he leaned back in his chair, one hand lazily holding his beer. “Wine and Netflix, huh?”

You laughed softly, pushing your sunglasses up onto your head. “I know. It’s sad.”

Joel shook his head, his lips curving into a lopsided grin. “Not sad. Just... surprised, I guess.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

Joel shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. “Figured someone like you—smart, funny, beautiful—would have somethin’ a little more exciting lined up for New Year’s Eve.”

You blinked, his compliment catching you off guard. Heat crept up your neck, but you tried to play it cool. “Well,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your napkin, “I’m not exactly the club-and-kiss-a-random-stranger-at-midnight type.”

“Right,” Joel said, nodding slowly, as if that explanation made perfect sense. His brown eyes lingered on you for a beat too long before he added, “No one waitin’ for you back home, then?”

You hesitated, just long enough for him to notice. “Well, there’s someone...” you started, glancing at him.

Joel froze mid-motion, a loaded nacho hovering just shy of his lips. His face fell ever so slightly, but he recovered quickly, brushing a crumb off his shorts in what you could only describe as a casual panic.

“Oh,” he said, feigning nonchalance. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Girl,” you corrected, your voice light but deliberate, watching as his brow furrowed slightly. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, the flicker of confusion that followed.

“Girl?” he repeated slowly, leaning back in his chair. For a moment, he seemed to falter, his lips parting like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how. Was he reading this all wrong? Were you—

“Mimi,” you said, your lips quirking upward into a grin. “My cat. She’s waiting for me back home.”

Joel blinked, the realization dawning slowly before he groaned, his head falling back against the lounge chair. His hand scrubbed over his face as he muttered, “You’re somethin’ else.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and genuine. “Well,” you teased, crossing one leg over the other as you leaned back, “how about you? I’m sure there’s plenty of ladies dying for a handyman like you.”

Joel’s lips quirked into a crooked grin, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He shrugged, the movement slow and deliberate. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I mean... I want the whole thing, y’know? Wife, kids, family... dog—or cat,” he added quickly, his gaze flicking to you with a playful glint.

You smiled, your chest tightening at the earnestness in his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone softening as he looked out at the infinity pool, the water reflecting the golden light of the sun. “But I just... never really met anyone I could imagine that with. Someone who made it feel... right.”

You nodded slowly, your hand wrapping around your glass as you thought about his words. “I get that,” you said, your voice just as quiet. “It’s not easy, finding someone who fits.”

Joel turned his head to look at you, his brown eyes warm and searching. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the air between you felt lighter, Joel’s grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Alright,” he said, his voice warm and playful, “lemme see some pictures of this famous Mimi.”

“Really?” you asked, perking up instantly as you set your drink down and grabbed your phone. “She’s the cutest, Joel. I swear.”

His grin widened, boyishly charming, as he gestured for you to hurry. “C’mon, show me. Prove she’s worth all the hype.”

You unlocked your phone and began scrolling through your photo album, your excitement bubbling over. “Okay, okay—here she is, napping on my bed.” You held up the screen to show a photo of Mimi sprawled out on her back, all fluffy fur and tiny paws in the air. “Tell me that’s not the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.”

Joel tilted his head, squinting at the photo like he was studying it carefully. “Alright, she’s cute,” he admitted, nodding. “Kinda got that ‘queen of the castle’ vibe, though.”

“She is the queen,” you said, laughing. “I basically live in her house, not the other way around.”

He leaned closer, resting his chin in his hand, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Lemme see more.”

You swiped to the next picture. “Oh, this one’s from Halloween, I dressed her up as a pumpkin.” You burst out laughing, showing him a photo of Mimi looking unimpressed in her bright orange costume, one paw sticking out awkwardly. “She hated it.”

Joel let out a laugh, throwing his head back slightly before shaking it in disbelief. “A pumpkin? Poor girl looks like she’s plannin’ an escape.”

“She was so mad,” you said through your laughter, scrolling to another. “But she got over it after I gave her some treats.”

He reached out to gently take the phone, his thumb brushing yours in the process. He studied the picture, his grin turning into a full smile. “She’s got that ‘why do I put up with you’ face. Kinda reminds me of someone.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, teasing.

“Ha, ha,” you said, snatching the phone back, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you with a grin. “She’s the best. I don’t care what you say.”

Joel leaned back in his chair, the golden light of the sun catching in his eyes as he tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips. He crossed his arms loosely over his chest, looking so effortlessly charming it made your stomach flip. He took a slow swig of his beer, his gaze lingering on you.

“Well,” he drawled, the word lazy and teasing as it hung in the air. “She’s definitely a cute cat.” He paused, his lips twitching like he was holding back a grin. “Takes after her mother.”

Your heart stuttered at his words, the way he said it so casually yet with a warmth that felt like a soft caress. You rolled your eyes, though you could feel the heat creeping up your neck.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until Joel’s voice pulled you back into reality. It was low and soft, with just a hint of that Texan drawl, like a tether pulling you gently from your dream.

“Shit,” he murmured, his phone in his hand as he swiped at the screen. “Hang on.”

You cracked one eye open to see him putting the call on speaker.

“Joel, where the hell are you guys?” Tommy’s voice rang out, exasperated. “You’re gonna be late to the massage thing, and Maria’s about to freak.”

Joel leaned back in his chair, unfazed. “Relax, Tommy,” he drawled. “We’re by the pool. We’ll be there in five.”

There was a dramatic sigh on the other end of the line. “Alright, fine. Just hurry up,” Tommy said before hanging up.

Joel chuckled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He turned to you, leaning over slightly to poke your arm. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

You blinked, sitting up slowly as the sun’s warmth wrapped around you. “Hey,” you murmured, your voice still groggy. “I forgot about that massage thing.”

Joel shrugged, his gaze steady on yours. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he said, his tone softer now. “We can stay here, or you can take a nap back in the room ’til dinner.”

The unexpected sweetness of his offer made your chest tighten. Joel, with his teasing and his smirks, had a quiet way of surprising you. When he wasn’t being a massive pain in the ass, he was... well, kind of amazing.

You shook your head, brushing away the thought. “No,” you said, sitting up straighter and adjusting your sunglasses. “We should go. Maria will revoke bridesmaid duty if I flake.”

Joel chuckled, standing and offering you a hand to help you up. “Well, look at that,” he said, his grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Me, the best man. You, the bridesmaid. Perfect little team, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, letting him pull you to your feet. “Alright, Miller,” you said, adjusting your towel as you smirked up at him. “Keep it moving before Maria comes down here and drags us both to the spa.”

Joel laughed, the sound deep and warm as he grabbed his things. “Whatever you say, boss.”

As the two of you walked back toward the hotel, his shoulder brushing against yours every so often, you couldn’t help but feel that Joel had a way of making even the smallest moments feel like something more.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The couples massage was located on the hotel’s lower level, tucked away behind a serene courtyard surrounded by lush greenery and gently trickling fountains. The space was dimly lit with warm, golden light, and the air smelled faintly of lavender and eucalyptus.

Soft instrumental music played in the background, a mix of delicate piano notes and ocean waves, designed to lull anyone into relaxation. The atmosphere was undeniably tranquil, though the idea of “intimacy workshops” had you teetering on the edge of amusement.

You sat cross-legged on a plush mat, the fabric cool against your skin as you tried—and failed—to maintain a serene expression. Joel sat beside you, his broad frame and long limbs making him look out of place. To your other side, Maria and Tommy were already fully immersed, Maria’s posture perfect and Tommy nodding earnestly along with the instructor’s every word.

“Hello, couples,” the instructor began, her voice smooth and calming, though there was a distinct theatrical quality to it. “My name is Linda, and I’ll be guiding you through today’s couples massage and connection experience.”

You shot Joel a quick glance, and his eyebrow quirked ever so slightly. He didn’t say anything, but the subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth spoke volumes.

Linda continued, her tone dipping lower as if she were sharing a secret. “Before we begin, I’d like us to take a few moments to breathe and connect. This exercise will ground you before embarking on this intimate experience with your partner—an experience even more profound and vulnerable than sexual encounters.”

Joel shifted beside you, leaning just close enough that you could hear him mutter under his breath, “Oh, this’ll be good.”

Your lips twitched, and you bit down on a laugh as Linda began a series of deep breathing instructions. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, though you refused to look at him, knowing you’d lose it completely if you did.

“Now,” Linda said, her hands clasped reverently in front of her. “I’d like you to turn and face your partner.”

You shifted on the mat to face Joel, your knees brushing his as you settled in. His brown eyes met yours, warm but slightly hesitant, like he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this.

“Next,” the instructor continued, her voice almost hypnotic, “place your palm against your partner’s chest.” She demonstrated the motion, and you watched as Tommy and Maria eagerly mirrored her, their hands pressed against each other’s hearts, smiling like they were in a rom-com.

Joel hesitated, his hand hovering slightly as he glanced at you. “We don’t have to,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“It’s okay,” you assured him, offering a small smile.

You placed your palm on his chest, the warmth of his skin beneath your hand sending an unexpected shiver through you. Joel’s breath hitched just slightly before he placed his hand on your chest. His movements were careful and deliberate as he tried—unsuccessfully—to avoid brushing against your breasts.

“Perfect,” the instructor cooed. “Just like that.”

You bit your lip, holding back a laugh at how absurdly intimate this was for two people who weren’t actually a couple.

“Now,” the instructor continued, her voice dipping even lower, “I want you to look your partner in the eyes. Really look at them. And I want you to tell them one thing you love about them.”

You couldn’t help it—you let out a quiet laugh, glancing down briefly before meeting Joel’s gaze again.

“You or me first?” he asked, his lips curving into a small smile that softened the tension in his jaw.

“You first,” you said, your voice light but steady, as if daring him to make it through without cracking a joke.

Joel chuckled softly and glanced down briefly, like he was gathering his thoughts, before his eyes lifted to meet yours again. This time, they were softer, more serious, and the weight of his gaze made your chest tighten.

“I love…” he started, his voice a little quieter now, “how passionate you are about the things you love.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the sincerity in his tone cutting through the playful air between you.

Joel smiled faintly, “It’s... somethin’ special. You’re somethin’ special.”

You blinked, your heart doing an unsteady flip as his words settled over you. For a moment, you forgot you were in a room full of people. Forgot about the absurdity of the exercise, the spa robes, the instructor’s soothing voice.

The instructor’s voice broke the moment. “Now, let’s hear from the other partner.”

You cleared your throat softly, trying to steady yourself as Joel’s lips quirked up in that signature lopsided grin. “Your turn,” he teased, his voice lighter now but no less warm.

You took a deep breath, letting your fingers press just slightly against his chest as you looked him in the eye. “I love…” you began, your voice soft, “how steady you are. How you just... take care of people without even thinking about it.”

Joel’s grin faded into something gentler, his eyes searching yours.

“And I love,” you continued, a small, nervous laugh escaping, “how you manage to make me feel like everything’s going to be okay, even when we're doing stupid shit like this.”

Joel’s smile returned, but this time, it didn’t have the teasing edge you were used to. It was softer, quieter, and it lingered in a way that made your chest ache.

“Alright,” the instructor said, breaking the spell. “Beautiful work, everyone. Let’s move on to the next step.”

Joel’s hand fell away from yours, but not before his thumb brushed against your skin one last time, sending a small spark up your arm.

As the instructor continued with her directions, Joel leaned in slightly, his voice a low murmur just for you. “Guess I was right,” he said.

“About what?” you whispered back, your brow furrowing.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. “We do make a pretty good team.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You sat perched on the massage bed, your legs dangling slightly, the fabric of the soft robe brushing against your knees as you glanced toward Joel. He stood a few feet away, his broad shoulders stiff, his hands tucked into the pockets of his robe as if grounding himself.

Linda’s cheerful knock interrupted the silence, and she stepped into the room, her warm smile as calm and collected as ever.

“Hello, my couple,” she greeted, her hands clasped together. “You two said some lovely things during our meditation earlier. Truly heartwarming.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Joel, a small, nervous smile tugging at your lips. His mouth curved into something similar, but there was a tension in his jaw that betrayed him.

“Now,” Linda continued, her tone dipping into something softer, almost reverent, “I won’t be here while you massage each other. As I mentioned, this is an intimate, spiritually sexual experience—something meant to connect the two of you without distraction.”

Joel shifted slightly, his weight moving from one foot to the other, but his expression remained impassive.

“But,” Linda added, her gaze flicking to you, “I will give you some instructions before I leave.”

“So, you, darling,” she said, gesturing toward you, “will go first. Once I leave, you will remove your robe so that you are completely naked.”

The words hung in the air like a grenade. Joel choked on his own breath, a sharp cough escaping as his hand flew to his mouth.

You shot him a look—part exasperation, part mortification—but his ears were already tinged red, and he avoided your gaze like it might burn him.

Linda, blissfully unaware of the chaos she’d just unleashed, continued smoothly, her attention now shifting to Joel. “And you, sir, will dip your hands into our coconut oil, freshly made right here at the hotel.”

Joel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his gaze firmly fixed on the bottle of oil on the table as though it might offer him salvation.

“You’ll slowly rub the oil over your lover’s body,” Linda explained, her tone so serene it almost felt cruel. “Take your time, connect with her energy, and once you’re done, she will do the same for you.”

The air in the room felt like it had been sucked out entirely, replaced with something heavy and stifling.

Linda clasped her hands together once more, her smile bright. “Any questions?”

“No,” you and Joel said in unison, your voices flat and clipped, as if any further elaboration might tip you both over the edge.

“Wonderful,” she beamed. “Enjoy.”

And with that, she swept out of the room, leaving the door to click softly shut behind her.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Joel shifted, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes darting to everything in the room except you. You stood from the chair, crossing your arms over your chest as you took a shaky breath.

“Well,” you said finally, your voice breaking the tension. “That was... thorough.”

Joel snorted softly, the sound low and nervous. “Yeah. Thorough’s one word for it.”

You bit your lip, glancing at the table where the coconut oil sat, the small bottle practically mocking you. “We don’t have to do this,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out. “If it’s too weird, we can just... tell Maria it was great and skip the whole thing.”

Joel shook his head, his hands falling to his hips as he finally looked at you. “No, no. It’s fine. I mean...” He hesitated, his lips twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “If you’re okay with it.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the way he always seemed to check on you first, even when he was just as thrown off. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “I’m okay with it.”

Joel nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Alright, then.”

You hesitated, biting your lip as you glanced at your bag in the corner of the room. “Um,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll just... put my bikini back on, if that’s okay?”

Joel’s head snapped up, and he nodded quickly, turning around so his back was to you. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little rough. “That’s fine. Take your time.” He closed his eyes for good measure, his broad shoulders stiff as he stood there, hands shoved into the pockets of his robe.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” he added, the words coming out quieter than intended.

“Okay,” you murmured, slipping out of the robe and pulling your bikini from the bag. The fabric felt even smaller now, the strings tangling briefly as your hands trembled, but you managed to tie it securely before lowering yourself onto the massage bed.

“Alright,” you said, your voice steadying. “I’m ready.”

Joel turned around, and for a moment, he just stood there, his breath catching in his throat.

You were lying on your stomach, your head resting in the cradle of the massage bed, the curve of your back dipping perfectly into the arch of your hips.

The tiny bikini left little to the imagination, the soft lines of your body glowing under the warm light of the room. Your legs stretched out, bare and inviting, the faint sheen of the day’s sun still clinging to your skin.

“Christ,” Joel muttered under his breath, the sound barely audible but heavy with something unspoken.

The scrape of the oil bottle against the table broke the silence, and you turned your head slightly, your voice hesitant. “If it’s weird, Joel... we don’t have to do this.”

“No,” he said quickly, already pouring the oil into his hands. The scent of coconut filled the room, warm and heady. He rubbed his hands together, his palms slick and shiny, before stepping closer to you. “You deserve to feel good,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “Lemme take care of you.”

“Okay,” you whispered, your body sinking into the bed as his words wrapped around you.

Joel hesitated for just a moment, his hands hovering above your shoulders, the heat of them palpable even before they touched your skin. When his palms finally met your back, you let out a small, involuntary sigh, the tension in your shoulders melting under his firm, deliberate touch.

His fingers pressed gently into your skin, moving in slow, steady circles as the oil warmed beneath his hands. The strokes were careful at first, almost tentative, but as he worked his way down the length of your spine, he grew bolder, his touch firm but never rough.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely breaking the quiet.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your eyes closing as you let yourself relax. “Feels good.”

Joel’s hands moved lower, tracing the dip of your waist before pausing just above your hips. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep his focus on the massage and not the way your body responded to his touch.

“You’re all tense here,” he said, his thumbs pressing gently into the muscles at your lower back.

You let out a quiet laugh, muffled by the chair. “Probably from carrying Maria’s bags all day.”

Joel chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, well, remind me to give her a hard time about that later.”

As he worked his way down to your legs, his hands slowed again, his touch almost reverent. His fingers glided over the curve of your thigh, his grip steady but light enough to send a shiver through you.

“You okay?” he asked again, his voice softer now, like a tender whisper in the space between you.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, the word slipping from your lips as your breath hitched, caught somewhere between a sigh and a smile. His hands were moving lower now, fingertips brushing over the length of your calves, the pressure just right—enough to soothe, to make you feel weightless, like you were melting into the touch.

You sighed softly, the tension in your muscles melting away as his hands moved upward, past the curve of your thighs. His touch slowed as he reached the soft curve of your ass, his palms hesitating, hovering just above your skin. His fingers trembled ever so slightly, a crack in his otherwise steady confidence.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, your voice muffled by the towel but still soft, reassuring. “You can touch me.”

Joel didn’t answer. Instead, you felt the pause in his movements, the faint hitch in his breath. A beat later, he nodded—not that you could see it, but the gesture was almost palpable in the quiet room. Then his hands resumed their work, more deliberate now, his touch gaining confidence as he warmed the coconut oil between his fingers before pressing it into your skin.

His hands kneaded gently, working against the plush curve of your ass with a focus that had your breath catching. The oil slicked his palms, his thumbs pressing in circles that left heat blooming across your skin.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice low and thick, carrying a rasp that gave away his attempt to stay composed.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, a soft sound of affirmation as you melted further into the table. The feeling of his touch was too good to put into words, his hands coaxing every ounce of tension from your body.

Joel’s throat cleared, the sound subtle but unmistakable. Even without seeing his face, you could tell—he was flustered. The confidence in his hands was undeniable, but it wasn’t unaffected. “You’re, uh… good at this,” you murmured, your voice soft, carrying that teasing lilt he always seemed to draw out of you.

Joel chuckled, a low, almost sheepish sound. “Yeah, well... I’ve had my fair share of massages,” he replied, though there was something strained in his voice, a crack in his usual charm.

“Course you have,” you replied, a soft laugh muffled by the towel beneath your cheek.

Joel’s hands stilled for a beat, the faintest hesitation in his movements before he gave you a light tap on the curve of your ass—a gentle, playful signal he was done. He stepped back, wiping his hands on the towel with deliberate slowness. “Alright,” he said, his voice finding its usual teasing edge. “That’ll be forty bucks.”

You sat up, the warmth from his hands still lingering on your skin as you gave him a mock glare. “Wow, Miller. You drive a hard bargain.”

Joel shrugged, though you didn’t miss how his face had reddened—not from the sun this time. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly finding interest in the corner of the room.

“Well,” Joel muttered after a pause, his voice a little rougher, “Linda wasn’t wrong. This... this is a helluva lot more intimate than I was expectin’.”

You smirked, shaking your head as you adjusted your robe. “It is meant for couples, Joel.”

His laugh was quiet, but it carried that boyish charm that made your chest ache in ways you couldn’t explain. “Yeah, I guess it is,” he admitted, his hand gripping the towel tightly as if grounding himself.

You tilted your head, catching the edge of his silhouette as he stood to the side. “Your turn?” you asked, your voice tinged with challenge, even as your breath hitched.

Joel exhaled, the sound coming out heavier than usual. “Yeah,” he said, though his voice was laced with something deeper, something just shy of restraint. But as he reached to shrug off his robe, the sharp sound of his phone ringing shattered the moment, slicing through the serene atmosphere like a knife.

“Shit,” Joel muttered, his brows furrowing as he glanced at the phone like it was a personal betrayal.

“You brought your phone into our romantic couples massage?” you teased, raising a brow even as you fought back a grin.

Joel groaned, shaking his head in apology as he read the screen. “It’s work,” he said, apologetically. “I’ll be right back, alright?” His gaze lingered, even though you weren’t looking directly at him, his concern evident in the warmth of his tone. “You okay in here?”

You nodded, adjusting your robe as you lay back down. “I’ll manage,” you smiled.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of blissful indulgence. After the massages, you’d all retreated back to the suite, letting the warm, languid haze of relaxation linger as you lounged until dinner. That evening brought another spread of incredible food, paired with cocktails so colorful and ridiculous you half-expected umbrellas and sparklers to spontaneously combust.

Now, hours later, the four of you had settled in the suite’s spacious living room. The night had softened into something cozy, everyone in their pajamas, legs draped lazily over furniture like you’d been here forever. Maria and Tommy were being sickeningly cute, giggling and whispering as though they were the only ones in the room. You couldn’t even pretend to roll your eyes anymore—it was almost too sweet to ruin with sarcasm.

Joel, seated next to you on the plush sectional, was a different story entirely. As you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone, you felt a nudge against your leg. His finger.

“What?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him. And there he was. Why did he have to look so good even now, sitting around in sweats like it was nothing? His dark hair was tousled from the shower, drying in lazy waves that made him look annoyingly effortless. His face held that crooked smile, the one that whispered he knew exactly how charming he was.

“Nothin’,” he said, the word dripping with an easy drawl. But the gleam in his eye betrayed him. He leaned closer, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper that sent a flicker of something through your chest. “Got an idea.”

Before you could even ask what he meant, he stood, clapping his hands together as if he’d just unveiled some grand revelation. “Alright, listen up,” he called, his voice commanding enough to even break Maria and Tommy out of their loved-up haze. “Let’s play a game.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, already sensing this was going to be interesting. Joel had that mischievous glint—the one that promised he was about to be the most entertaining (and insufferable) man in the room.

You smirked, leaning back into the couch as you folded your arms. “Alright, Miller. What’s this genius game of yours?”

“Never Have I Ever,” he revealed, his voice rich with amusement.

Maria immediately let out a groan, her head falling dramatically against Tommy’s shoulder. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound spilling out before you could stop it. Across the room, Tommy looked as though Joel had just announced the most cryptic game in existence. His brows knit together in utter confusion. “Which one’s that?” he asked, looking to Maria for clarification.

Maria sighed, straightening up just enough to explain. “The one where you have to drink if you’ve done whatever the person says.”

Tommy nodded and Maria eventually admitted defeat. “Fine,” she said, smirking at Tommy. “Let’s do it. And when Joel gets embarrassed about some deep, dark secret, I’ll be the one laughing.”

Joel just laughed, that low, rolling chuckle that always seemed to stir something in the air. “Don’t worry, Maria. I ain’t embarrassed by nothin’.”

His words hung in the space between you, and for just a moment, you swore they carried a weight meant just for you. Whatever this game was, Joel had already decided to win—and somehow, you had the distinct feeling you were his favorite opponent.

Joel had stretched himself out across the couch directly opposite you, legs sprawled casually, one arm draped over the side. His fingers idly tapped against the armrest, the faint rhythm keeping time with the teasing grin that hadn’t left his face since the game started.

You, on the other hand, were curled up on the couch, one leg tucked beneath you as you balanced a throw pillow against your side. The soft lighting of the suite painted everything in warm, golden hues, casting Joel in a glow that only made his messy hair and lazy smirk look even more unfairly good.

Maria leaned forward from her spot beside Tommy, perched on the edge of the couch like she was about to unveil a scandalous secret. “Alright,” she declared, clapping her hands together with a little too much enthusiasm. “I’ll start.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she glanced between the three of you, clearly savoring the attention. “Never have I ever… bought an engagement ring.” Her voice was sweet, her tone feather-light, but it was clear she was watching Tommy like a hawk.

You couldn’t help but laugh, a quick, startled sound, and Joel joined in almost instantly, his low chuckle rolling over the room. Across from you, Tommy froze, his jaw tightening as he blinked at Maria like she’d just thrown him into a firing squad.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Joel interrupted, holding up a hand in mock protest. His grin widened as he shook his head at her. “No playing dirty Maria."

Maria pouted, though it was obvious she wasn’t even remotely sorry. She leaned over to press a quick kiss to Tommy’s cheek, her smile softening just enough to make him sigh in relief. “Fine,” she relented, sitting back with a playful shrug. “No fun, though.”

Maria tapped her finger against her lips, her eyes narrowing with mock concentration. “Okay, okay. Let me think of something good. Hmm…” Her gaze drifted upward dramatically, as if the perfect idea might be hiding somewhere on the ceiling. Then, a mischievous spark lit her expression. “Alright, I’ve got it. Never have I ever… gotten a speeding ticket.”

The room erupted into movement. Without hesitation, Tommy, Joel, and you all grabbed your drinks and took a shot.

Maria gasped, clutching her chest as if the revelation physically wounded her. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed, her voice heavy with dramatic flair. She leaned back against the couch, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m surrounded by criminals. Actual delinquents.”

Joel snorted, the sound warm and genuine, before pointing a finger at her. “Don’t act so innocent, Maria. Bet you’ve sweet-talked your way outta plenty of tickets.”

Maria smirked, leaning her head on Tommy’s shoulder with a sigh. “That’s the beauty of being me, Joel. I don’t need to break the law. I just make everyone else do it for me.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but Joel’s attention had shifted again. His gaze flicked back to you, lingering with that quiet intensity that always made your pulse quicken. “What about you?” he asked, the question easy but his tone soft. “What’d you do to earn yours?”

You rolled your eyes, waving him off. “Nothing exciting. Speeding on an empty road late at night. Wasn’t paying attention.”

Joel tilted his head, his grin turning softer, like he was imagining it. “Let me guess. Windows down, music up, thinkin’ you owned the road?”

You flushed, caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “What, do you think I’m in a car commercial?”

Before Joel could respond, Tommy leaned forward, setting his drink down on the table with a deliberate thud. “Alright,” he said, straightening up like he was about to make a grand declaration. “So, I just say somethin’ I haven’t done before?”

“Yes,” Maria replied with a roll of her eyes, her tone dripping with playful exasperation. “It’s not that complicated, Tommy.”

“Alright then,” Tommy said, his grin turning sly as he glanced around the group. He hesitated just long enough to make everyone squirm before finally saying, “Never have I ever… had a threesome.”

The room fell silent for a beat. Your cheeks burned instantly, but your glass remained firmly in your lap, untouched. You didn’t dare glance at anyone, though you could feel Maria’s amused gaze sweep across the group like a spotlight.

“Jesus, Tommy,” she said, shaking her head. “Of course, you’d ask that. God, you’re insufferable.” She didn’t raise her own glass, though her smirk said she wasn’t entirely shocked by the question.

Your eyes darted toward Joel without thinking, and there he was—cool as ever, downing the shot like it was no big deal. The way his throat moved as he swallowed drew your gaze for a moment longer than you intended, and when his eyes met yours, there was a flicker of something in his expression. Mischief.

Maria caught it too, her eyebrows shooting up. “Well, well, well,” she drawled, her attention now fully on Joel. “Do tell, Miller.”

Joel shrugged, the movement slow and deliberate, as though this was the most boring revelation in the world. “What’s there to tell?” he said, setting his glass down on the table with a faint clink. “I was in college once.”

Tommy let out a low whistle, leaning back in his seat. “College, huh? That your excuse for everything?”

Joel smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a way that felt maddeningly deliberate. “Ain’t an excuse,” he said simply. “Just a fact.”

You rolled your eyes, finally finding your voice. “College Joel sounds wild,” you quipped, hoping the humor would help you ignore the faint flutter in your chest.

“Wild?” Joel repeated, his voice dropping slightly, that teasing lilt still present. “Nah, just… open to new experiences.”

You nearly choked on your own breath, your cheeks warming further. Maria snorted, clearly entertained. “Alright, lover boy, settle down,” she teased, giving Tommy a playful nudge. “Not everyone’s interested in reliving their glory days.”

Joel just chuckled, his gaze flicking back to you for a brief second—enough to send a flicker of heat through your chest. “Don’t worry,” he said softly, his voice low enough that it felt like it was meant just for you. “I keep things pretty tame these days.”

Your lips twitched, threatening a smile, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back into the couch, refusing to acknowledge the way his words had your heart racing just a little too fast.

Joel leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lazily against the armrest as his gaze flicked to you. “Alright,” he said, that unmistakable drawl curling around his words. “Your turn, roomie.”

You hesitated, your drink balanced precariously in your hands as you glanced around the group. What urged you to ask the next question, you weren’t entirely sure.

“Never have I ever…” you started, your voice softer than you intended. You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening before you forced the words out. “…cheated on my partner.”

The room went still, the playful energy from earlier cooling into something quieter. Everyone exchanged glances, searching for the first telltale movement. Maria’s brow furrowed slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line, but she didn’t reach for her drink. Tommy fidgeted with his glass, his fingers tapping the rim, but he didn’t raise it either.

Your eyes drifted instinctively to Joel. He hadn’t moved—his drink rested untouched on the table beside him, though his expression had shifted. The teasing smirk was gone, replaced by something subtler, quieter. His gaze locked with yours, and for a moment, it felt like the room had disappeared entirely.

“Well,” Maria said finally, her voice breaking the silence. She let out a breathy laugh, the sound more nervous than amused. “Guess we’re all saints tonight.”

Tommy chuckled, the tension easing just enough for him to lean back against the couch. “Speak for yourself. I just don’t have the energy to juggle that kind of drama.”

Maria rolled her eyes, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. “That’s because I’d kill you if you tried.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

As the hour wore on and the room grew warmer with the haze of alcohol and laughter, Maria leaned forward again, her cheeks flushed from too many drinks and her grin entirely unfiltered. “Alright,” she said, giggling as she held her glass aloft. “Never have I ever…” She trailed off, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, as though the walls had ears. “…had sex in public.”

The words hung in the air, ridiculous in their delivery yet potent enough to catch everyone’s attention. You blinked, unsure if you’d heard her right, before glancing instinctively across the room—straight at Joel.

His dark eyes met yours, holding your gaze for a second longer than necessary. And then, as if compelled by some unspoken agreement, you both raised your glasses and took a sip.

His eyebrows shot up, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he watched you. You lowered your glass slowly, your expression unreadable as you caught the knowing smirk curling at the corner of his lips. Across the room, Maria and Tommy exchanged looks, their jaws dropping in perfect sync.

“Really?” Maria said, incredulous, her gaze darting between you and Joel like she was trying to piece together a puzzle she hadn’t known existed. “You guys? That adventurous?”

You shrugged, leaning back into the couch with what you hoped passed for nonchalance. “What?” you said, your tone light but your pulse racing. “You guys that vanilla?”

Tommy groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Maria’s scared of gettin’ arrested,” he muttered, his arm draped lazily over her shoulder.

“I am not!” Maria protested, though her voice carried a guilty edge. “I’m just… cautious! There’s a difference.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and lazy, drawing your attention back to him. He had that look again—the one that made you feel like he was two steps ahead of everyone in the room, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking on you with an intensity that sent heat crawling up your neck.

“So,” he drawled, his voice slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every word. “Where exactly we talkin’,? Public covers a lotta ground.”

Your breath caught at the way his eyes lingered on you, heavy with curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place. His question hung between you like a dare, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he waited for your answer.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the way his gaze pinned you in place made it nearly impossible. “You first,” you said, your voice steadier than you expected.

He chuckled again, leaning back in his chair with an ease that only added to the tension. “Fair enough,” he said, his fingers tapping idly against the rim of his glass. “Parking lot. Middle of the night. No one around… or so we thought.” His eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was an edge to his tone that made your stomach flip.

“Your turn, roomie,” he said, his voice softening.

You hesitated for a moment, considering your options, before deciding you weren’t going to let him win this little game. “A rooftop,” you said simply.

Joel’s eyebrows rose, genuine intrigue flashing across his face. “A rooftop?” he repeated, the drawl in his voice making the words sound heavier than they should. “Well, now I’m impressed.”

You shrugged again, pretending his reaction didn’t send a thrill down your spine. “It had a view,” you added, your tone light, though your heart was racing.

Maria’s jaw dropped as she stared at you in disbelief. “A view?” she repeated, laughing. “What the hell—were you guys starring in some indie film?”

“Hey,” you said, raising your hands in mock defense, the grin on your face belying the heat already rising in your cheeks. “Some of us like a little risk.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, his lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile that sent your pulse into overdrive. He tilted his head, studying you like you were a puzzle he was only now starting to piece together. “And to think,” he said, his voice low and almost teasing, “I thought you were a good girl.”

The words hit you like a jolt, and you swore the air in the room shifted. Your laugh faltered, your expression softening as his gaze held yours—steady, unflinching, and far too intense for the playful tone he’d taken. Heat flushed your skin, your cheeks burning under the weight of his words. “Guess you don’t know me that well,” you shot back, your voice quieter now, almost breathless.

His grin deepened, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite name but couldn’t look away from either. The space between you felt charged, every glance and pause stretching into something heavier, something unspoken.

“Alright,” Tommy cut in abruptly, breaking the moment with a question that came out far louder than necessary. “Never have I ever… faked an orgasm.”

The tension snapped like a rubber band, and you laughed, the sound spilling out before you could stop it. Maria groaned, shooting him a look that could only be described as incredulous, but Tommy didn’t seem fazed. He leaned back, his drink in hand, clearly directing the question at his girlfriend.

You raised your glass without hesitation, taking a deliberate sip. Maria followed suit, rolling her eyes as she did. Across the room, Joel and Tommy remained still, their drinks untouched as they looked between you and Maria.

“What?” you said, shrugging as you set your glass down. “It’s part of the package that comes with being a woman.”

Joel’s dark eyes shifted to you, his expression unreadable for a beat. And then, with the same effortless drawl that always seemed to unravel you, he said, “Think you’re sleepin’ with the wrong men sweetheart.”

The casual delivery of his words only made them hit harder, your stomach flipping in response. You met his gaze, half tempted to shoot back a witty retort, but the way he looked at you—like he was waiting for you to prove him wrong—left you speechless. Your lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out, and his grin only grew.

Tommy, thankfully, was too distracted by Maria to notice. “Wait, wait,” he stammered, his brows knitting together as he turned to her. “With me?”

Maria shrugged, clearly unbothered by the question. “Well… maybe in the beginning,” she admitted, her voice light, though the color in her cheeks betrayed her. “But then, you know, I told you what I liked, and it got better.” She trailed off with a small smile, patting his leg as though that explanation would suffice.

Tommy looked positively scandalized, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t quite decide how to respond. “I… Jesus, Maria…”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you stood, your drink still in hand. “Alright, alright,” you said, your voice cutting through the awkward energy like a blade. “I think we’ve learned enough about each other for one night.”

Maria laughed, waving you off as though you’d ruined her fun. “Oh, come on, don’t act so prudish now.”

“I’m not being prudish,” you shot back, arching a brow at her before turning toward the rest of the group. “I just don’t think I can handle any more of this conversation.”

Joel followed suit, standing up and stretching lazily, his movements unhurried and easy, like he had all the time in the world. “Bedtime?” he asked, his voice warm and low as he looked at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, surprised by how soft the question sounded coming from him. It caught you off guard—sweet in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, draping an arm over your shoulders as though it were the most natural thing in the world. His touch was casual but warm, sending a spark of heat through you as he guided you toward your shared room. “Goodnight,” he called back to Maria and Tommy, who were still sprawled out on the couch.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The suite was quiet now, the late hour wrapping everything in a soft stillness as you stood in the bathroom brushing your teeth. You leaned against the counter, the rhythmic sound of bristles against enamel the only noise, when the door suddenly opened behind you.

“Hey?!” you exclaimed, your voice muffled by the toothpaste in your mouth. “What are you doing?”

And of course, it was Joel—shirtless, sauntering into the bathroom like he owned the place. Which, technically, he kind of did, given that you were sharing the space. But still.

“I’m brushing my teeth,” he said simply, grabbing his toothbrush and squeezing toothpaste onto it, as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

You huffed, your indignation melting into a bemused smile as he began brushing, standing shoulder to shoulder with you in front of the mirror. You caught his reflection, his gaze flickering to yours, and for a moment, the quiet intimacy of it made your breath catch.

“You can’t just walk in here like that,” you said, your voice laced with mock annoyance as you bumped him lightly with your hip. “I could’ve been naked.”

Joel didn’t miss a beat, his voice muffled by toothpaste. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

You froze, your cheeks burning as his words hung in the air, casual but heavy with implication. He didn’t even look at you, his attention still fixed on the mirror, but the corner of his mouth twitched with the faintest hint of a smirk.

You spat out your toothpaste, rinsing your mouth hurriedly to avoid giving him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, turning to leave the bathroom, but before you could make it out, Joel’s hand shot out, wrapping gently around your arm and pulling you back.

“Hey, hey,” he said, his voice softer now, his touch firm but careful.

“What, Joel?” you asked, your irritation more for show than anything else.

“You’re sunburnt,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact as his thumb pressed gently against the bridge of your nose. The touch was warm, almost tender, and you froze under the unexpected intimacy of it. “You need more sunscreen tomorrow,” he added, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“Oh,” you murmured, caught off guard. Your voice came out smaller than you’d intended, and for a moment, you just stood there, blinking up at him as his hand dropped away.

Joel spat out his toothpaste, rinsing his mouth quickly before following you into the bedroom. The silence between you felt heavier now, charged with something unspoken. You climbed into bed, pulling the sheets over yourself, and turned to find him leaning against the doorway, watching you with an expression that was impossible to read.

He crossed the room slowly, settling onto his side of the bed, his movements unhurried as he adjusted the pillow beneath his head. Then, his voice broke the quiet, low and quiet in the darkness.

“Were you telling the truth during that game?”

Your heart stuttered, and you turned your head toward him, the question catching you off guard. His gaze was steady, searching, as if he was weighing your every move, your every breath.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice soft, though you already knew exactly what he was asking.

“About… not cheatin’ on anyone.” His words were careful, deliberate, but there was something raw in the way he said them—like he wasn’t just making conversation.

“I was telling the truth,” you said, your voice firmer this time, though your chest tightened under his scrutiny. “Why?”

Joel was quiet for a moment, his eyes dark and thoughtful as they lingered on you. “Just wanted to know,” he said finally, his tone light but his expression anything but.

You exhaled softly, the tension between you palpable in the quiet of the room. “And what about you?” you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

He smiled faintly, his gaze softening as he leaned back against the pillows. “I was tellin’ the truth too,” he said simply. And yet, the weight of his answer lingered, like there was more he wasn’t saying.

The soft light from the bedside lamp painted shadows across his features, accentuating the scruff of his beard, the faint curve of his lips, and the honey in his eyes that seemed to draw you in without effort.

He shifted then, turning to face you fully, propping himself up on one elbow. The way his hair fell slightly across his forehead and the way his dark eyes studied you made him look effortlessly handsome, almost boyish—but the intensity in his expression reminded you there was nothing boyish about Joel Miller. “Have you ever been cheated on?” he asked, his voice low and steady, but there was an edge of something raw beneath the question.

You turned to face him, mirroring his position, your elbow digging lightly into the mattress as you studied him in return. “Yeah,” you said softly, your voice carrying the faintest thread of vulnerability.

Joel’s jaw tightened for a moment, his gaze flickering as though the answer hit closer to home than he’d expected. “You?” you asked, your voice quieter now, unsure if you wanted to hear his answer.

He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah,” he replied simply. The word was heavy, but he didn’t elaborate. Instead, he exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. “Fuckin’ sucks,” he added after a moment, his voice tinged with frustration.

“Yeah, it does,” you agreed, your tone softer, though the memory of it stung like a distant ache.

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, something tender flickering in his eyes. “Well,” he said, his voice lightening slightly as a small, crooked smile tugged at his lips. “Their loss.”

You laughed at the simplicity of his words, though the warmth in your chest spread faster than you expected. “You think so?” you teased, your smile breaking through despite yourself.

“Definitely,” Joel said, his tone firm, like it wasn’t even up for debate. His eyes held yours, steady and sure, and for a moment, the humor in his words melted into something deeper.

And then, as if he couldn’t help himself, Joel tilted his head slightly, his voice dipping lower. “And, uh…” he began, a small smirk playing on his lips. “The other questions—you were tellin’ the truth?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before the realization dawned. Your cheeks flushed at the confessions from the game – rooftop sex and faking orgasms – but still you nodded. “Yes, Joel,” you replied, your tone exasperated but amused.

Joel leaned back slightly, his smirk growing into a full grin. “Bet it was the one who cheated who couldn’t make you cum,” he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.

“Joel!” you exclaimed, sitting up slightly, your eyes wide as you stared at him in shock. Your heart pounded in your chest, your cheeks blazing as his words sank in.

“What?” Joel said with a shrug, hugging the pillow tighter against his chest as he watched you, entirely too pleased with himself. “Every time I’m with a girl, I make sure she, you know…” He lowered his voice into a whisper, clearly teasing you for your reaction to the word, “…cums first.”

Your jaw dropped, your face burning so hot you thought you might combust on the spot. “Joel,” you hissed, your voice caught somewhere between disbelief and mortification. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”

Joel, of course, was completely unfazed. If anything, the flush creeping up your neck only seemed to spur him on. He leaned back on the bed, one arm tucked under his head, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who’d just dropped that bombshell.

“You’re all red,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “For someone who’s had sex on a rooftop, I wouldn’t think you’d get this flustered. Don’t act so innocent.”

“Oh my God,” you murmured, covering your face with both hands as though that might somehow make this entire interaction disappear.

Joel’s chuckle was low and rich, rumbling through the air like a warm summer storm. “I’m just sayin’,” he teased, tilting his head slightly as his gaze never wavered from you.

You took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Well,” you said after a moment, your voice steadier now, though you still refused to meet his eyes. “Some guys don’t have the same… sexual mindset as you, Joel.”

That got his attention. His eyebrows lifted slightly, his grin growing even more amused. “Sexual mindset?” he repeated, his tone dripping with curiosity. “Do tell.”

“I’m serious,” you said, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. You shifted on the bed, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as you tried to explain. “In a perfect world, sure, you always, you know…” You paused, struggling to find the words.

“Climax,” Joel supplied smoothly, his voice casual, though the way his lips twitched made it clear he was thoroughly enjoying this.

You groaned, throwing him a glare. “Yes, fine. Climax. But sometimes that doesn’t happen. That’s just life.”

Joel shook his head, his expression turning uncharacteristically serious as a scoff escaped him. “You’re so wrong,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You blinked at him, “What?” you asked, sitting up straighter. “You’re the sex guru now, telling me I’m wrong?”

“Damn right, I am,” Joel replied without missing a beat, propping himself up on one elbow to face you directly. The soft glow of the bedside lamp caught the curve of his jaw, the flicker of intensity in his dark eyes. They locked onto yours, steady and unflinching, the playful edge in his voice shifting into something deeper, weightier. “It ain’t just about sex. It’s about listenin’. Payin’ attention to her, the way her body responds. And, you know, communicating if somethin’ doesn’t feel good.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded into the background. It wasn’t just the way he said it, like it was the simplest truth in the world—it was the conviction in his voice, the quiet confidence that hinted at experience, understanding. Your mind wandered briefly, unbidden, to the women who’d been lucky enough to have him like that, to be cared for in the way he described. You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening.

“So,” Joel said, his grin returning, softer this time but no less teasing. “What’s the deal? You were datin’ this asshole who couldn’t make you… climax,” he said, the word slow and deliberate, his eyes glinting with amusement. “How’d you, you know, relieve all that tension?”

“Joel,” you groaned, pulling a pillow over your face as heat rushed to your cheeks.

Joel laughed, the sound low and warm, rumbling through the quiet room. “C’mon now,” he said, nudging your side. “I’m curious.”

You sighed into the pillow, debating whether to say anything at all. But somehow, his easy grin and relaxed demeanor loosened something in you. “I… I had a toy,” you admitted finally, your voice muffled as you refused to look at him.

Joel froze for half a second before letting out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “No way,” he said, incredulous. “He must’ve been really shit if you had to go out and buy a toy.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, still hiding behind the pillow.

But Joel wasn’t done. He leaned back, running a hand through his hair, his grin widening into something downright smug. “Poor girl,” he said, his voice tinged with mock pity. “Deservin’ better than that.”

Your hand shot out to shove his shoulder, but your embarrassment only seemed to amuse him more. “So what,” you said, emboldened now, “you’re telling me every girl who’s been with you has… you know.”

Joel didn’t miss a beat. “Hell yeah, that’s what I’m sayin’.”

“Come on,” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Statistically, that cannot be true.”

He shrugged, completely unfazed. “Darlin’, you can’t fake that kinda pleasure.”

You made a face, skeptical and a little exasperated, but he didn’t stop. His voice lowered slightly, turning serious again, though the teasing edge still lingered. “I’m serious. It’s really not that hard. Every time I’m with a girl, she…” His grin returned, slow and deliberate. “…climaxes. More than once.”

You stared at him, caught somewhere between disbelief and begrudging admiration. “Wow,” you replied finally, your tone flat but your heart racing. “They must be doing something different in Texas.”

Joel chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief as he shifted closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Well, you know what they say…”

“Huh?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the proximity suddenly making it hard to think.

“Everything’s bigger in Texas,” he said, his grin widening into something downright devilish.

Your jaw dropped, a laugh bursting out of you despite yourself as you shoved his shoulder again. “Oh my God,” you muttered, shaking your head. “You’re insufferable.”

Joel just leaned back, watching you with a satisfied smile, like he’d won something you hadn’t even realized was a game. But then his expression softened, the teasing edge melting away into something warmer, something far more sincere.

“But seriously,” he said, turning slightly to face you. His tone was low, thoughtful, the kind of voice that made you stop and listen. “You deserve the best. Someone who gets you, who takes care of you. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with wantin’ that.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. They weren’t flirtatious or laced with mischief—just simple, raw honesty that hit deeper than you expected. You swallowed hard, your heart skipping a beat as you tried to find the right words.

“Thanks, Joel,” you said finally, your voice softer now. You managed a small smile, the sincerity in his words settling into your chest. “You too.”

A flicker of something passed through his expression—something almost vulnerable, though it was gone as quickly as it came. He gave you a faint smile, one that felt quieter, more intimate. “Goodnight, roomie,” he said, his voice soft, almost a murmur.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you replied, the words catching slightly in your throat.

You turned over, pulling the blanket higher, but you couldn’t shake the weight of the moment. Even as the room grew quiet and the only sound was the faint rustle of sheets, Joel’s words lingered in your mind, warm and steady, as if he’d etched them directly onto your heart.

Tag List

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[crimsoncandy04]

While fighting Scaramouche's robot, some of our clothes got ripped, and Scaramouche then did what he wanted until the reader couldn't take it anymore~

You watch as a giant metal hand suddenly comes crashing down from above and falls onto Traveler.

You scream out his name as you watch him try to get up while Scaramouche reels back to strike him again from inside the mecha bot. Yet even as you draw your blade and try to rush over to block it, you know you're already too late.

Nahida interferes. You notice a small movement from Aether's arm as if he was trying to get your attention and gesture to the small goddess. Telling you to help her instead.

You don't hesitate. Aether always had a plan. He always ended up okay.

But what about the dendro archoness?

You quickly use your electro vision and warp yourself across the floor as fast as you can. Grabbing onto Nahida and pulling her with you out of sight to safety.

However, you just barely make it.

And in the process of rescuing the goddess of wisdom, Scaramouche had slammed his enormous metal fist into the ground again and nearly smashed you flat. But instead of doing that, the oversized mech appendage had merely scraped your side and left not only your entire right arm aching, but your entire chest now completely exposed as well.

You sat Nahida on her feet as you quickly tried to gather the remaining pieces of your dress top and yank it over your shoulders to give yourself some modesty, but you didn't have time as Scaramouche swung at you both again when he heard you swear from your hiding place.

He missed again but only because this time, Nahida protected YOU instead.

She saw your distressed expression and immediately tried to use her own power to shield you but it wasn't strong enough.

Nahida is out cold much like Traveler a few meters away.

And now you kneel before The Balladeer all alone.

Injured.

And with your tits out.

Basically.

You quickly try to cover yourself with one arm instinctively as you struggle to your feet, grasping your blade as you prepare to go out with some dignity and die fighting for your friends at the very least, however instead of hitting you again or using any elemental attacks to obliterate you to pieces on the sanctuary floor, Scaramouche seems to have a different kind of death prepared for you and uses his giant metal hand to reach down and quickly snatch you up by the belt hanging from your waist.

You are hoisted hundreds of feet in the air and dangled before the face of the vile robot as the controller capsule slowly opens to reveal the face of your most likely killer. Scaramouche.

He gave you a smug and condescending look as he brought you closer to him.

"I find it rather laughable that a strong warrior like yourself is reduced to such a lowly state!"

You try to slap him with your injured hand but he just grabs you by the wrist instead.

"look at you. Exposed to your enemy like a common whore! Heh. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised though."

Scaramouche reaches with his free hand and pinches one of your nipples hard.

"This body of yours was never one of a fighter's. At least like this these exaggerated...assets of yours will be put to a much better use."

You wince as Scara continues to fondle your tits roughly.

"What the hell are you doing Balladeer!?" You sneer. This was low even for him.

He just chuckles at you.

"enjoying the rewards of a victorious battle sweetheart. You shouldn't be surprised. Everyone says you're the Traveler's woman you know? And I beat him. I'm just taking what now belongs to me."

He moves his hand from your breast to your stomach. Slowly moving down until his fingers caress against your pubic mound. You brace yourself as you feel Scara slowly dip a finger into your womanhood, followed by another. He moves slowly at first. Maintaining eye contact with you at first as he gazes down at you with a teasing look.

He knows you can't do anything to stop him.

And he's enjoying it.

"I hate you!" You hiss.

Scaramouche just grins cheekily as his fingers curl inside you and cause you to squeak a little as you quickly try to yank your hand free from him so you could silence yourself and save what dignity you had left.

"We'll see if you still feel the same way when I'm done with you angel."

Scara continues to play with your pussy as you blush and struggle to keep your lips sealed. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing you were enjoying this.

He didn't deserve it!

Yet he seemed to almost know intuitively.

"don't bother acting like you don't love this. You might as well drop this stubborn act now because the more you resist, the more pleasure I'll inflict upon you." You feel your insides tighten as he begins to rub against a sensitive spot inside of you and finally you falter.

"Please don't. This feels too good! Please this isn't fair!" You whine as he keeps up his pace and softly hums to himself as he listens to your plea.

"beg me, you filthy parasite. I want to hear you beg me to make you cum as you make a mess on my hand. Maybe after that, I'll release you."

You feel your gaze fall from his as you struggle to form words. You couldn't say such lewd things. Wasn't Aether still just below you? What if he heard you? You forced yourself to maintain your silence.

Your orgasm was hitting you seconds after that and only after finger fucking you through it completely, did Scara slip his hand away from your dripping sex and bring his fingers to his mouth as he licked them clean.

"I think I enjoy the way you taste mortal. Perhaps I'll have to break my promise and keep you after all."

You tried to retort with what energy you had left but Scaramouche was pulling you into the robot with him before you could even process what was happening.

You were slammed into the furthest glittering wall as the opening closed behind you quickly. After that you felt Scaramouche grasping your thighs as he spread your legs wide and slid in between them.

"There's something I've always wanted to try. Don't worry, I've heard human women are delicate creatures when it comes to this type of thing. I won't break you here sweetheart."

You heard the sound of fabric rustling in the darkness. Felt your skirt being lifted as he teased the tip of his cock against your slit.

Oh archons.

This was actually happening.

The Balladeer was going to fuck you.

Like actually fuck you.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he slowly slid his large length inside of your tight cunt.

"ah~ your cock is...scara it's too big!"

You could almost feel the shit eating grin that was on his face.

"I know angel. It's but one of the countless ways I am superior to humans. "

You feel him thrust into you then. Moving slowly at first to let you adjust as he continued to hold your legs apart.

Surprisingly enough, he knew how to move his hips. And when he picks up the pace a little, you finally lose yourself and moan softly as Scaramouche fucks into you as deeply as he can.

"You're taking me so well. I'm surprised."

He thrusts a little harder as you gasp and moan a little louder.

"Scara you're hitting against my g spot too much!" You whine cutely. He just silences you with a quick kiss. His lips trailing from your mouth to your neck. He whispers into your ear in a sultry tone.

"you seem to be enjoying it though dear. So I plan on fucking you for as long as I want." He emphasized his point with a rather rough thrust against your sweet spot. Causing you to cry out as you feel yourself reach your peak again.

Yet he just continued.

After a few hours of this you swore you were going insane. Every thrust felt like it was more intense than the last. Your used cunt made the most unholy squelching sounds as Scara continued to fuck into your oversensitive pussy like you were nothing but a mere toy for him. You had lost count of just how many orgasms he had forced out of your body and at that point you didn't really care anymore.

Was this really that bad?

Archons his cock felt better than anything you had ever imagined.

Scaramouche had used his body to pin your knees next to your head on either side as he held your hands with his. It was a rather intimate position but you didn't think too deeply about it.

Because as you felt him gently kiss your neck and continue to pound into you, you felt like you were made for this.

Was this... what it felt like to go crazy?

"Scara please...I can't take anymore ~" you moan sweetly as you struggle to get your point across.

He kisses you again before responding.

"you'll take it until I say you are finished. Now just let go sweetheart. Give yourself to me fully. Don't worry about anything but what I'm giving you." He murmured before biting into your neck and thrusting even faster into you.

You wanted to say something. But you couldn't find the strength to anymore.

Scara's cock felt so good.

You wanted him to fuck you more.

Until you went insane.

You reached up with your good hand and held onto him as you begged for another kiss pitifully.

This wasn't that bad of a fate.

Perhaps a life as the fuck pet of a false god...was truly one you had always been destined for.

He was the everlasting lord of arcane wisdom now after all. Of course he was right about something like that and he had even been generous enough to have helped you fulfill such a destiny himself too~

Why had you ever lifted a sword against such a wise and benevolent god?

At least now you were where you were always meant to be.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Winter’s Girl

18+ Minors DNI

(I do not own any photos, credits to original owners)

Could you imagine being a scientist on the winter soldier program, your task is to make sure he’s at 100% before every mission. This time though, when you enter his holding cell he’s nowhere to be found.

Note: I HIT 300 FOLLOWERS; thank you guys so much I love you all xxxx

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: Translated Russian because I’m stupid and know one language, Jealous Soldat, use of the word Puppy/Pup as a petname, a lil Biting, Hair pulling, Spanking, Spitting, The Winter Soldier (he’s a warning), Creampie, He’s a little sweet at the end but there isn’t much aftercare— as always if I’ve missed anymore let me know!

Word Count: 1.2k (of porn with no plot)

You gaze flicks around the room, a little panic stricken but who wouldn’t be when a 6ft something assassin had seemingly disappeared from his cell.

The fear bubbling in your belly only triples when you face the long broken mirror that sat just above the sink, behind you his cerulean gaze was undeniable. His hands reach out, the cool metal one wrapping itself around the bottom of your face, muffling any protests, while the other gripped your hip with bruising fingers and pushed you forward till your pubis and upper thighs knocked against the sink.

Your hands fall on instinct to the cold metal as your fingers grip at the surface, when you flick your gaze up to the mirror you can see that what swims in his own orbs isn’t anger or the usual killer instinct, no— the Winter soldier looks at you with lust.

“красотка” (pretty) He whispers hoarsely against your neck, hot pants of air from his mouth coating your throat like paint. His teeth nip right at your pulse point before his warm tongue smooths over the mark.

When you jerk, his grip tightens, “don’t move” He stares at you pointedly through the mirror before both his hands retreat from your frame.

You vaguely register the soft sound of fabric hitting the cold floor before he swipes your own clothes from your body, the harsh air was harsh; it almost felt like dipping your body into a bath filled with ice.

He groans, loud and throaty as his eyes bore into your ass and panties. Despite the cool atmosphere of the cell you feel everywhere burning with a primal want. You wanted this, you had since the first time you worked with the Soldier. He smelled the way you slicked up at the sight of him in nothing but his briefs, blood dripping from his nose, a musky scent radiating from him that had you desperately soaked. He wanted this too, he needed the release and the best kind of toy was one that was willing.

You felt his fat tip press against your hole, pushing in and out softly over the thin lace before it slipped to stimulate your hard little nub. The strong grip on your hip was back, anchoring your feet in their exact spot.

“You need this?” He kissed sloppily up your spine, It sounded more like a statement than a question but you nodded all the same.

He worked quick after your confirmation. Your panties were pulled to the floor by their soaked gusset and two of his chubby metal fingers speared you, pulling a delightful sounded moan that the Soldier was desperate to hear more of.

They worked methodically, pushing in and curling out, your legs shook at every time the cool pads bumped over each pleasure filled rib.

Once he deemed you ready enough, his fingers slipped from your tight hole to jerk at his thick length, coating himself in your essence. He so desperately wanted to taste you but his cock was crying out for attention, he’d get his fill next time.

“F-fuck” you moaned loudly as he pushed in, all semblance of decency thrown out the window at the feeling of his fat cock stretching you, there was a burn from ill prep but with the size of him you weren’t sure there would be a way to prep. You were thankful that he let up for just a bit so your insides could mould to accommodate him.

When he started thrusting his pace was brutal, his meaty thighs slapping against your own, the sound mixing with the squelching push and pull of his cock along your fluttering folds. You’d thank his super soldier serum later for his constant pounding pace but right now you could think of nothing but him.

“Bucky!” you squealed as his cool digits flicked meticulously across your sensitive clit, your fingernails scraped mindlessly at the shiny plates of his forearm. He growled possessively at the slip of the name, his right hand fisting clumps of your hair to angle your head up to watch you both in the mirror.

“Does Bucky fuck you like this? Mm?” Jealousy dripped from his words as his metal hand smacked your rear hard before gripping the reddened flesh to cool the area.

You couldn’t think, you watched as your thighs jumped at each pound of his hips, the way your mouth had sat slack ever since he shoved his length into you, drool poured from your lips but you didn’t care— you couldn’t care— not with how cock drunk you were.

He smacked your ass again, this time when he gripped the flesh he pulled your cheek to the side, parting your ass before launching a fat glob of spit that ran from your tight little asshole to the spot where you two joined.

“I asked you a fucking question!” He pushed forward, teeth finding the lobe of your ear and biting down, the action pulling a squeaked moan from your swollen mouth.

“No-no he can’t, he can’t… please Soldier I’m so close” You wailed, one of your own hands travelling down to play with your neglected clit. The soft touch of your fingers had you jerking back to meet him.

“Mmm, Отчаянный щенок (desperate puppy)… you cum when I say you can” he was panting now, hips hammering into you at a slightly sloppier pace; It wouldn’t be long until he found his own release as well.

He moaned loudly, he had no control over his own body now, driven only by decades of primal unsatisfied lust. He thrust harder if it were possible, his wild blue eyes glaring at your fucked out face through the cracks in the mirror.

“You ready pup?” he asked between loud groans.

“Mmm, so ready солдат (soldier)” you slurred, your head hung loosely between your shoulders when his hand slipped down your spine, you’d lost all energy to hold it up ages ago— you’d been relying solely on the tight grip he had on your hair.

“Augh, shit” he growled almost animalistic through clenched teeth, his damp forehead settling on the silky skin stretched over your shoulder blades. He thrust deeply one last time.

“Cum angel…cum…cum on me” the words fell from his mouth along with slurs of broken Russian as he painted your walls white, his cock twitched against your vice grip as you silently screamed at your own release.

You hadn’t the faintest clue how long you two basked in the after glow of whatever you had just done, your mind only coming back to you when you felt his softening length pull from your aching heat. The feeling of your mixed juices slipping from your hole had you almost coming for a second time, especially when you felt his cold fingers drag up the mess it made in your thigh before he pushed it back into your core.

His arms lifted you up with him as he backed up until he sat on a rickety cot in the corner of the room. You had no idea if it would hold both your weights but it was the last thought to cross your mind when his thick arms wrapped around your waist, his flesh fingers rubbing soothing circles over your hip bone. He kissed you, tenderly, before flopping his head onto the almost flat pillow.

You were almost asleep when you heard the deep rumble of his voice behind you. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

-

I have an insatiable appetite for jealous Bucky.

I also desperately needed to write something for the world’s favourite Soldat because I would not sleep peacefully tonight thinking of this and not sharing.

Hope you enjoyed x

[reignpage]

Restrained Beast

in which you tie up boyfriend!Konig

warnings: 18+ mdni, rope, bondage, cursing, suffocation, size kink, power play, slight dubcon, cowgirl, missionary, spitting, primal, prey, slight dacryphillia

the universe had blessed you with a once in a lifetime gift in the form of your big and strong boyfriend finally allowing you to tie him up. it was quite ridiculous actually, wrestling him into position, straddling his bare chest as you tied a rope around his wrists, looping it through the gap in your headboard. konig was a huge man, he took up the entire expanse of your bed, and you weren’t confident the rope would hold him. 

if he wasn’t so compliant, there was no way you would have ever managed to lift even just one arm into position; it weighed a ton. he was pure muscle, carved from years of military service, crafted to be the perfect battering ram. every flex could kill, he could smother you in your sleep with his heavy torso, even step on you if he wasn’t so careful. and god, did you love it. 

he was pure strength, the perfect killer, and yet there he was, peering up at you with a light blush and a small smile. his blond chest hair was coarse under your palms as you met his stare with a grin. konig had needed a little convincing to agree to your idea; in fact, it required a lot of begging and promises that you’d make it worth his while. 

the concept of being suppressed went against every instinct in his body, but how could he say no to his beautiful girl? so cute and so sweet, politely asking with big eyes and a pout. he wanted to make you happy, always. so there he was, lying patiently, completely naked under you. he tested the rope and felt pride warming his chest (and his cock) at his angel who clearly did her research, wanting to do it right, for him. 

“schatz, ride my cock, ja?” 

said cock was pointing to the ceiling, perfectly proportionate to his gigantic stature. it was always a struggle getting him inside you; you needed a lot of foreplay, and konig was more than happy to oblige every time. he would spend hours focused on you, making you ride his thigh, fingers, and face. he worshiped your pussy like it was the holy grail, lapping at your essence as if he couldn’t get enough. 

he overstimulated you every time, but you knew he didn’t mean to, right? you knew he just had a tendency to get lost in the taste of you, your scent overwhelmed him, and oh how he loved the feeling of your plush thighs squeezing his head. and when you would pull his hair in a desperate attempt to make him stop, his eyes would roll back before pinning down your frantic hips with an arm thrown over your stomach, diving back in with greater fervour. 

you bit your lip, nodding shyly as you scooted down his body, soaking pussy grazing his stomach. it made his happy trail shine under the dim light of the bedside lamp. you loved the hair, the feeling of it tickling you, the way it was barely visible unless you were pressed right to his crotch, and you often were. 

quickly rubbing your clit, you exhaled, physically and mentally preparing yourself to take him again. no matter how many times you had played with that part of him, you never got over how intimidating his cock was. everything about him was intimidating, it was one of the reasons he rarely left your shared home; people always stared. 

clutching his cock, you lined him up with your quivering hole, gulping as you pushed down. a pleasurable burn made you hiss, head thrown back as you heaved. every inch made you fuller and fuller until you felt like you couldn’t take any more, but one glance down and you realised you weren’t even half way down. 

how was that even possible?

“all of it, maus.”

you shook your head in a panic, your fight or flight instincts triggered. 

“ja, you can take it. you always do.”

könig pulled at his restraints with more force than he had intended, rattling the bed frame. he was itching to touch you, to blanket your tits with his palm and pinch at your nipples. the man wanted to feel your skin, pull your front down against him so he could kiss you, smother your whines with his mouth and push down every protest with his tongue. 

god, he just wanted to grip your hips and pull you down till he was buried to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix in the way he knew you loved. konig had been on edge the entire time, he wasn’t used to not being in control, not like this, where he was completely helpless. 

but knowing he was at your mercy made him leak pre-cum like a faucet. 

eventually, with lots of praise and encouragement, he was in. you needed a second to adjust, to will away that burn as he stretched you to your limits, split you in half.

he might have complained when you initially brought it up, but you could tell he loved this just as much as you did if the incessant throbbing inside of you was anything to go by. his skin was cool to the touch, his sweat making it

slightly difficult to get a grip but you persevered, lifting your hips a little before letting gravity do its thing in an experimental stroke. it lit a fire inside of you and you knew you needed more. 

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“just - hah- like that, schatz.”

“fuck, liebling, so good -ngh- for me.”

his every praise and groan fuelled your thrusts and grinding, ignoring the ache of your muscles, intent only in making both of you cum. and with the way the head of his cock was pressing against that spongey spot inside of you, you weren’t going to take long. 

könig threw his head back when you lifted your hips as high up as you could before slamming down with a splat, juices flying and making both of your skin sticky. a white ring of cum was forming around his base and he would watch it dribble down all day if he could. 

your sobs were music to his ears, so breathy and uninhibited, he couldn’t believe he was making you feel that way. never thought he’d have such a good girl loving his monstrous body, obsessed with his freak of a nature stature, but there you were, a blissed out expression on your face as you held your tits in your hands, muttering his name again and again. 

like a plea thrown in the wind, you heard your name calling to you through the fog of pleasure. konig was looking up at you in the way he always did when he wanted one thing. the realisation that he wanted every part of you made you clench down on him, and you both moaned.

and of course, how could you disappoint your precious boyfriend? so you lean closer to him, breaths mingling as you teased him with a graze of your lips against his. he opened his mouth, but you couldn't help yourself; you swerved to the right and sucked at his skin, at the junction where his shoulders met his neck. he was so much bigger than you, you had to stretch to reach his chin.

he tasted salty and clean, like a glacier. he tasted like the love of your life. and you didn't think you'd ever get your fill. only his cockhead sheathed in your warm pussy; you had to climb the expanse of his body to reach you destination and when he growled your name, you knew you couldn't tease him any longer.

so with a playful scold, you gave him a love tap on his cheek, giggling at the flutter of his lashes. thumbing his plush bottom lip, you drawled, "open wide, koni baby."

and without looking away, you spat into his mouth and watched enthralled at the hasty swallow. there was no hesitation, no reluctance. only pure satisfaction as he pulled at his restraints again. it was like he had forgotten his predicament, so caught in your taste and smell, and the way your hips were swivelling around the head of his cock as you leaned back, pussy greedily swallowing his entire length once again.

you were so close, mewls getting louder and higher, whining every time your clit rubbed the hair on his pelvis just right, and pinching your nipples the way he would. he wanted to bring you there, wanted both of you to reach your high, and he couldn’t wait. no, he was desperate, needed you to move faster, to slam on his cock harder, just the way you like, the way you needed him to. 

perhaps, if either of you weren’t so caught up in the maddening hedonism, then you would heard the creaking of fibres being pulled apart. 

riding his cock wantonly, you moaned like a siren, uncaring about the neighbours who were no doubt in the middle of filing a complaint. again. and when konig jutted his hips upwards, you moaned even louder, stars sparkling behind closed eyes. you could feel him everywhere and yet it wasn't enough.

“kon, so close, ‘m so close.”

snap!

you barely registered it over the cacophony of your moans, the squeaking of the bed and the slamming of the headboard. but the big hands suddenly grasping your hips in an unforgiving grip was unmistakable, and when he lifted you up and heaved you down, a scream being rammed out of you, you knew your big bad boyfriend had broken free of his restraints. 

anyone else would have feared for their lives, having a ferocious beast be on the loose, but you barely had time to think about the terrifying glint in his eyes before he was throwing you onto your back and jackhammering into your sopping pussy like he was battering through the heaviest door. 

you were speechless, mouth hanging open in a perpetual o shape as your eyes rolled back, hands clutching at the sheets and then at his shoulders, clawing down his back. you needed to ground yourself, it was too much too fast, but you had nowhere to go, his body was pinning you down, your face buried in his chest. konig was suffocating you, chest hair tickled your face as you gasped, and he was knocking all the air out of your lungs with every merciless thrust. 

he was using your body like a flashlight, not a single regard for your pleasure or your life. it was exhilarating. only he could drag you to the edge of life and make you feel so much pleasure you forgot your name. 

“cum for me, schatz. need you to cum on my cock.”

you screamed into his chest, eyes screwed shut as waves and waves of rapture washed over you, dragging you in an undercurrent of euphoria and pure ecstasy. his lips stuttered at the feel of your cunt squeezing his cock, wringing a sudden orgasm out of him. konig roared, plunging into you with one final jab, cum pulsing out of him, painting your insides white. it burned your insides, a gasp grazing past your lips.

it was always so so so good with him. every. time. you were addicted. just as he was. now that he had a taste of what it was like to be restrained, you hoped he would want to do it again. although, you felt personally offended it didn’t last as long as you expected; he had broken free so easily, it was insulting. 

he huffed a laugh in your ear when he felt you pout. konig kissed every inch of skin he could reach whilst keeping his softening cock inside of you, a silent thank you for giving him more happiness and pleasure than he thought he deserved. 

“you need to tie it harder next time, ja, maus? make it more difficult for me.” 

damn right you’d make it more difficult for him. 

cocky austrian.

[thebestnova]

bunny hybrid!yandere x pissed off empress!reader

Imagine a bunny hybrid who's main role in life is to kill for the elites of his burrow. He is set to rule his burrow until it is destabilized, with he and his fellow elites tried for treason.

The poor man, being as beautiful as he was, was spared and gifted to an unprecedentedly young empress.

Everyone knew what he'd done to her, to her family.

"Do you remember me?" she asks as he is presented to her in her throne room.

"Of course," he says, smiling as ruthlessly as he did that day. Though he is bound in both chains and powerful enchantments, he looks strong. "How's your scar?"

"Bold question." You smile back, but you're sure it doesn't reach your eyes. You force yourself to not touch the healed gash on your collarbone. "You'll learn better."

I've become stronger.

But what happens if the poor bunny is not as cold as he seems?

includes; femdom, revenge, oral (fem receiving), degradation and masochism (yan receiving/being), forced marriage, dubcon, hurt little comfort

“I mustn't give in to temptation, Your Highness… To give in to such beastly, masculine instincts…”

You tear the man down to his knees by his hair. "It's 'Your Majesty' now. You made sure of that.

“And I don't care about any of that. You're mine, now. You're in heat, so let loose, according to my command.”

“B-But…” The man began to plead, covering his growing erection with his hands. “It's my first time doing this… I don't want to be like the other dumb bunnies that hop around the moment they're sent off… I'm the next on line…”

This killer? A prude? A VIRGIN? you think. Laughable. He was surely old enough to not speak like a shy sweetie?

“How will they know? Come here.” You shove his worried face into your crotch. “Lick and suck like a good slut.”

“Mmph—”

“This tongue is mine to use. You're just a tongue now, understand? Tonight, you're just a pussy wiper.”

The terrifying man has tears in his crystal clear eyes.

Why is he so complacent? you wonder.

He his tongue begins to search your tight pussy, lapping at his mess every few seconds. He brings both hands to your hips. He begins to run his chin, fucking his tongue into your eager cunt. You hold his head to steady yourself, stepping in his pathetic cock all the while.

“Nng… Slut… Slut!” you scream out, on the verge of crying. You bounce up and down, crushing his cock and violating his virgin mouth. He grips you tighter, tears now streaming down his murderously beautiful face. You want to hit him, but you settle for degrading him like the bitch he was. You call him a slut, whore, monster— You say that he's lower than dirt, lower than nothing.

You want to die on his lips so he could feel what you felt.

“Fuck… Fuck… Nng…!” You suffocate him with your lust, choking him with your hedonistic flood.

So rough! he thinks. This confuses him, since he lived for and with extreme roughness and callousness. How was this different? Was it because it was… sex? Tonight, it seemed, he found himself numb and dazing out.

“You like that, slut? You like that?” you pant, snatching his head away. He is silently weeping, puppy dog eyes both begging for more and begging for a break.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty…”

“For what?”

“A-About your family… I'm truly sorry…”

You fill with pure, unbridled rage. Why would apologize now, of all times?!

What a buzz killer.

“Get me a belt,” you say, stepping away, “one of yours.”

[llamagoddessofficial]

You mention the moth Bad Sanses would like their wings to be brushed. Can we brush each of the of the Bad Sanses’ moth wings?

Despite being arguably the most physically intimidating and least approachable-looking of all of the bad guys, Horror is the easiest to brush. Why? Because he likes you. You're one of his select few people in his mind that belong in the category of 'family'. His instincts are very very strong, and from the moment he first laid eyes (eye?) on you, his instincts said that he liked you and trusted you - so nothing else matters. You reach toward him, and where someone else would lose a hand, you just get happy hums and grateful nuzzles. You could walk right up to him and start combing his wings, and he'd just sit down wherever he was stood, purring and nodding off to sleep.

Brushing Horror's wings won't be easy. They're old, matted, thick, a visual sign of his mental decline. But any effort you make will be appreciated more than you could possibly know.

Dust, though he absolutely likes you, takes time to warm up to having his wings brushed. He'll let you touch or pet, after he's made his interest in you clear, but mutual grooming is something loved ones would do together and as much as he secretly craves your affection it might be a while before he's ready to feel that way again. It's a big step in a relationship, and a big emotional trigger.

Give him time. He melts slowly. Let him come to you, let him play with your hair, braiding or twisting or just petting. Let him get comfortable with establishing that kind of connection again - let him spend nights holding you and realising you aren't going anywhere. He's likely to ask you while intoxicated, or very very tired.

It's the only time you'll hear him purr.

If you asked Killer if you could brush his wings, you'll find yourself witnessing an extremely rare sight - Killer unsure of what to say. He stands there, looking at you blankly, it appears for a moment there's a tiny white light in one of his sockets. Though he quickly tries to cover his tracks, agreeing and making some kind of flirtation out of it, it's obvious your gentle inquiry has deeply shaken him in a way you weren't expecting. He's more than willing.

You're gonna have black dust from his wings all over you. On your hands, on your face, on your brushes, everything. But you'll be recompensed with the rare delight that is a quiet, flustered Killer, blushing a vibrant crimson and sitting totally still. You might notice he keeps positioning himself to try and cover his chest; his Soul is wobbly, visibly pink, and distinctly heart-shaped.

If you have the guts to ask Nightmare, the vicious prince of moon and darkness himself, if you can brush his wings... he most likely will politely and gently decline. Just like Dust, his losses have made him unwilling to reopen to such care and attention. It'll take months of officially being together before he'll even consider such a thing.

... But your request alone will mean so, so much. Nightmare's wings are a sore subject to him. They are all at once a point of pride, a point of shame, a beauty and a terrible eyesore - the way they've changed over the years reflects how he has changed. His old wings were much prettier, much more delicate, sometimes he looks in the mirror and expects to see his old uncorrupted wings and the sight of the new ones sickens and confuses him. He's got a lot of mixed feelings. You expressing an innocent genuine desire to groom them is something he didn't realise he needed so badly to hear.

He'll think about it. He'll think about it a lot.

[puranami]

✿ It's The Little Things ✿

A/N: My first time writing! Admittedly I'm very nervous, but also so excited!! Kept it simple with a small headcanon list to start, but I tried to write a decent amount for each point, and I hope that everyone is in character :0 Posting at 4am because I have no control over my life...

Summary: Little relationship things with the Strawhats. Can be interpreted as the anime/manga or the live action version of the character.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji

Content: SFW, G/N reader, slightest hint of angst in Sanji's part, but otherwise, pure unadulterated fluff! ✿

(Part 2 - Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer) (Part 4 - Crocodile, Rosinante/Corazon, Doflamingo)

Luffy

✿ He absentmindedly draws shapes on your leg, back, or whatever part of you is there as you sit together, whether you are watching the waves, or listening to one of Usopp's stories. He is almost magnetic in the way he ends up attached to you. If you're not feeling it, he will do his best to keep his hands to himself, but as soon as his focus shifts onto anything else, they're back on you, drawing little clouds and hearts. He tried, he really did!

✿ This bottomless pit inhales food like it's going out of fashion, but, much to the bewilderment of the rest of the crew, he will actually feed you from his plate as he eats, even though you are eating your own food. It may be a case of "1 for you, 5 for me," but it's almost instinctive for him; he's sharing something he's passionate about with you, and making sure that, in his eyes, you are happy, healthy and strong. He values your wellbeing more than food; you are one of the most important things in his life.

✿ Despite how chaotic he is in every aspect of his life, his presence brings you to a state of complete peace, even when he's yelling about whatever currently has his attention. Just knowing he is there comforts you in a way that nothing, and no one else can. As long as Luffy is there, being the same old Luffy he always is, you know everything will be alright in the end, and if it isn't alright, well, it isn't the end yet.

Zoro

✿ He always places a comforting hand on your head when he passes by, or ends up in the same general space as you. It's his version of a hug, a reassuring touch that he is there, and that he's happy to see you. Zoro is very subtle with his affection, at least in public, but even when it's just the two of you, he automatically defaults to the head pat. It comforts him as much as it does you, and the simple action alone conveys his feelings far better than he ever could with words.

✿ You both love silently observing everything going on around you, and it's such a comfortable silence. You just enjoy each others company while watching the world go by, with Zoro also keeping an eye out for any threats, as he does. Sometimes you end up passing silent judgement on what you see, and you have both developed this uncanny ability to gossip without saying a single word. It's honestly unnerving at times, but you are just so familiar with each others micro-expressions that it's second nature.

✿ Insults are terms of endearment. If anyone else called either of you such things, all hell would break loose - swords drawn, blood spilt, bodies hit the floor, the whole song and dance. It actually started out as a form of deflection, with both of you being far too stubborn to admit any feelings were there, even to yourselves; "No, I don't like you, shitstain, I tolerate you." - "Whatever helps you sleep at night, arseface." As you connected though, it just became your thing, and you love seeing who can come up with the funniest insults. Zoro is surprisingly creative in this regard.

Nami

✿ Nami has a habit of fixing your clothes and hair if something is out of place. It can seem overbearing to others, but she knows you appreciate the gesture. She spent years putting up walls to defend herself, and this is a safe way for her to have a little moment alone with you, giving you gentle little touches without revealing to the world just how important you are to her. It is a very grounding experience for both of you, and you end up doing the same for her on the rare occasion that she isn't completely flawless. She may purposely put things out of place so you have the opportunity to fix something too.

✿ She has an eye for the finer things, and loves getting you little trinkets, and especially pieces of jewellery, which often match or pair with hers, like pendants that fit together to make a whole shape, and such. Just don't ask her where she got them; "Shhh, you don't need to worry about that." All that matters is that you now have a tangible connection to each other, no matter how close, or far apart you are.

✿ Another person who relishes in comfortable silence. Of course you love chatting with each other, and often do so later into the night than you intended. Nami is very quick-witted and your shared snark is always so enjoyable! But it's the moments when you are doing your own thing together, basking in the warmth of that closeness that brings the most joy. Every so often, you will share something interesting or amusing, depending on what you're doing, but you always return to that silence. It's very domestic.

Usopp

✿ You both end up in regular fits of giggles, that grow into raucous laughter, before devolving into the sounds of various suffocating wildlife, which only fuels the hilarious fire. He doesn't even have to say anything at times; he just has a look, and as soon as he catches your eye with it, you absolutely lose it. The amount of nonsensical inside jokes you have is absurd in itself.

✿ Ever the storyteller, Usopp will wind down the day with you relaxing under the stars, telling you fantastical stories about the impossible feats of the great 'Captain Usopp.' His creativity and imagination are something you greatly admire, and as much as you try to stay awake to appreciate those qualities, the comfort he brings has you dropping off every time. He'll carry you to bed most nights, but sometimes he can only manage to drag you around like a corpse he's trying to hide, and he'll end up waking you up laughing about it.

✿ You automatically link your little fingers whenever you are close enough to. It doesn't even register half of the time, only realising when you need that hand or try to go your separate ways. When this happens, providing there isn't anything that needs your urgent attention, you like to dramatize your parting, playing up that this is the most painful moment of your lives! "Don't you dare let go, Usopp! We can both make it out of this alive!" - "I'm so sorry, I can't hold on any longer, and I refuse to drag you down with me." - "No! Don't say that!" - "I love you so much, but you need to let me go..." Leading to you unlinking your fingers, and exaggerated fake cries of anguish. It annoys everyone around you immensely.

Sanji

✿ You shamelessly flirt with each other, making everyone around you uncomfortable, groaning at how painful it is. You weren't together when you started playing this romantic game of chicken, giving back everything Sanji threw at you, and then some, but once you figured your feelings out, you actually developed it into a legitimate game where you attempt to be as sickening and obnoxious as possible. If there is no one grimacing, angrily telling you both to pack it in, or simply leaving the room; you aren't flirting enough. There is a points system, and you're currently in the lead. Sanji ends up caving over the things you say, and his brain loses the ability to form words, let alone string them together in a coherent sentence.

✿ Sanji always leaves a drink and a bite to eat for you to wake up to, since he isn't there in person, having to wake up much earlier to prepare the food for the day. Growing up in a restaurant, early starts are just part of his natural rhythm, so it doesn't bother him, but sometimes you try to wake up with him to at least watch the sunrise together, before going back to bed for a couple more hours. He cherishes those mornings, and there is always an extra spring in his step on those days.

✿ He takes every opportunity he can to share a glance and a warm smile, a gentle touch of your hands, or a chaste kiss with you. They are agonisingly brief moments, but Sanji needs them to get him through the day, otherwise he would just cling to you, and neither of you would get anything done! Unknown to you, these moments are also his way of reminding himself that you chose him over everyone else, that he is loved unconditionally, and that he is enough, without having to, in his opinion, burden you with his insecurities. He'll open up to you one day, and you will be able to give him verbal affirmations along with everything else~

[moraxussy]

You Can't Take One Without The Other

Damian Al Ghul x Twin!reader

Content Warnings: mention of the word "abuse", nothing major, and not proof read:3

Word Count: 646

Despite her seemingly cold demeanor accompanied by her unmoving stature. Talia Al Ghul is a woman���a mother that lets her hard shell peel open when it comes to what's hers—her children.

Damian Al Ghul, her prodigy, blood born assassin, but also her beloved son. So composed and calculated yet also holds a temper that it easily triggered. Trained to kill on the spot without mercy, the young boy is honed to secure any emotion that hinders his mission—the Al Ghul's mission. He was made to not let any other being get in his way, to use all means necessary as long as he's able to give expected results, preferably exceed them. Yet despite his killer instincts and apathetic front, he is a boy of value. He believes blood over all matters.  He cherishes his family to such a strong degree that he's willing to kill just to preserve and protect it. No outer force can sever his belief on this. But it doesn't stop at family. Damian adores animals and takes care of them unconditionally. It pains him to see any of those creatures hurt in any way. Which pushed him to pursue the path of veganism.

The Demon Prince, Heir to the Shadows, and Son of Assassins....

Damian Al Ghul

Damian may possess the prowess and talents meant to satisfy the legacy of Al Ghul, never forget his other biological half, his twin sister.

The youngest, Talia's sweetheart, her doll, and her precious killer. Her little girl, the same as Damian, trained to be the perfect assassin for their family's legacy and for the preservation of the world, isn't just a weapon, she is also a daughter she dearly loved with all her heart. The mother might say she doesn't pick favorites, but one might think otherwise once you see how she treats the two differently. Although tender towards both, Talia can't help but train Damian a little harsher than her heiress. If you try to argue with her about this, she would just shut you down. But deep down, all she wants to do is give her daughter the childhood her mother failed to experience while also helping her build strong walls to protect herself once their mother leaves them on their own devices to strive for independence. Of course, this doesn't make the daughter twin an ordinary girl. She also values family and cares for animals but not the same degree as her brother. Believing that animals are a resource meant for humans for which they should be treated with respect and value if one wishes to utilize its maximum potential. This contrast in stands causes quarrels between the two during moments involving any animal. Not to mention she as well possesses the  strength and capabilities that qualifies her as an excellent assassin whose efficiency in the shadows allows her to parry and counter any attack thrown to her by her foes.

The Demon Princess, Heiress to The Shadows, Daughter of Assassins, and Talia's Second Chance...

You

The Duo of the Shadows, The Successors of the Demon, The Treasure of Talia Al Ghul

Together, no enemy can stop the twins. No matter how harsh nor how inhumane the training they are put through, as long as each twin is there to root for the other, they are ready to take the abuse. In the glory of their legacy. In the name of Ra's Al Ghul's greatest aspiration.

But what will happen if a new variable is introduced to the family of demons? A man of night once again reminded of his time in the shadows. A wake up call for the Dark Knight that what happened all those years ago gave birth to consequences that he now has to bear.

Will the bat be able to handle his demons? Will a mother finally let her young fly on their own?

Notes:

Hi so this is my first time making a batman based fic. I'm still new to the community so I'm basing on just common knowledge. I really wanted to try and focus on how Damian and the reader would be in the clutches of the shadows. I'm still learning though!

[grandline-fics]

Could I request Accidentally saying I love you prompt with Kid? Love your fics 💙

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Accidentally saying ‘I love you’

WARNINGS:  mutual pining, slight hurt/comfort

CHARACTERS: Kid

WORDS: 1,249

A/N: Thank you for requesting this prompt! I hope you like what I came up with

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

Kid flaunts his metal arm and scars like a badge of honour and constant symbol of his power and ability to endure and win. It shows anyone on the Grand Line and all those back towards where he started his journey how far he’d come. How strong he was and only getting stronger and fiercer, deserving of any rising bounty he’s given. He’s one of the Supernovas, the worst generation and he refuses to show weakness. However by refusing to admit his struggles bring a new challenge for the crew. They’re all well equipped to deal with Kid’s usual brusque and aggressive personality because they know when it’s just Kid being Kid or when it’s Kid in pain and hiding it. When he’s in pain? That’s when they’re out of their depth. 

If they dared to confront him or imply he’s struggling with his old wounds he’d either punch them in the face and throw them in the ocean or he’d only get even more aggressive and defensive. Patience isn’t a strong suit in most of the crew, which leaves the task of dealing with Kid to Killer and you. While you were a new addition to the crew, your role as the ship’s doctor had been godsend. When you heard the telltale roar of frustration and slamming of metal against the wall from the workshop you sighed and rose from your spot on the table in the kitchen. Lightly you tapped Killer’s shoulder. “I’ve got him.”

With careful steps you made your way to the workshop and knocked once before sliding the door open. You were able to side step Kid’s boot as it was thrown towards you. Blinking in surprise at the shoe on the floor you slowly looked towards your Captain. Your head tilted slightly and regarded Kid who was taking slow, haggard breaths. With a sigh you scooped the boot off of the ground and stepped into the workshop, closing the door behind you. “What’s the problem, Kid?”

“I’m fine.” Kid growled and his eyes narrowed slightly when a satisfied smirk twitched at your lips. 

“Didn’t ask what was wrong with you. I meant what was wrong in here to make you lash out.” You explained stepping closer and Kid tensed, knowing you’d already caught him. “Is there an issue with you that I should know about?”

“I’m fine.” Kid’s voice emphasised the repeated lie, still not ready to admit he was struggling to cope with the pain in what remained of his arm and through his shoulder. “Am I needed for something?”

“Nope.” You hummed and dropped Kid’s boot down on the floor, just out of arms reach. “Put your boot back on before you get hurt. Make sure to tie the laces.” Kid turned in his seat to glare at you, his eyes untrusting. He hated you coming to him, your methods of getting him to lower his guard. Why couldn’t it have just been Killer? Under his fierce glare you refused to shrink away, as fierce as your Captain was, your concern for him won out over any other emotion you felt. Deliberately you dropped your gaze to the still untouched shoe and returned your challenging stare to Kid. It was clear you weren’t going to leave until he did as you wished. 

Muttering under his breath, Kid stooped down and snatched the boot, pulling it on and tightly grabbing the laces to begin tying them only to jolt when your fingers lightly pressed into the offending shoulder blade. A growl of pain built in Kid’s chest and he managed to choke out the urge to yell and swear at you. “You don’t need to say anything Captain. Saying nothing means you’re not admitting to any weakness you think you have. Just nod when I’m where hurts the most.”

Kid glared down at the ground, caught so easily by you and your keen instinct. With a small sigh he slowly straightened up in his seat and nodded. He ground his teeth together and nodded each time your fingers pinpointed the areas dealing him the worst pain. When your assessment was almost over you lightly tapped his metal arm, an unspoken request for him to remove it. With a click of his teeth Kid used his ability to make his arm drop loudly to the floor. 

Your fingers lightly pressed against the stump and Kid hissed sharply, instinctively pulling away but forced himself to stay in his seat. With a shaky breath he nodded hard and you knew to start there first. Slowly you worked your fingers into the scarred and tense tissue, letting the heat of your hands and precise movements begin to alleviate the source of Kid’s pain. A low groan of relief slipped out of Kid’s mouth and a small, smug hum slipped through yours. Kid’s eye cracked open and he scowled at you. “Gloating doesn’t suit you, Doc.”

“Gloating implies I’m doing something to be proud of. However since I’m not doing something because you insist nothing’s wrong then I can’t be accused of gloating can I?”

“You’re far too smart for your own good you know that?” Kid grumbled, leaning more into your touch as his eyes slipped closed once more. You were also far too good at easing the pain and tension he’d been trying to ignore. Outside of these moments that you treated him, there was always a fun give and take between you both but still refusing to step beyond that line of Captain and crew and into a real conversation of feelings. With every spike of pain that your commanded and controlled out of his body, the more he relaxed and felt his mind calm, pulling him into an almost trancelike state. “Thanks Doc…love you.”

Kid hadn’t realised the words that slipped out until your fingers paused in their movements. For a moment Kid frowned that you’d stopped and blinked as his mind caught up with itself and then he was hit with his statement. His head whipped over to stare at you with widened almost panicked eyes. Your lips were parted and your eyes held their own guarded panic, your expression was almost disbelieving, uncertain that you’d heard him right. “I-I-I mean…”

“Relax Captain…” You broke the tension with a soft smile, trying to keep your voice light and teasing. You took a small step back and lifted your hands. “My hands are magic, too powerful for their own good. Love spell’s over.”

“Heh, yeah…you’ll have to be careful with them. Dangerous.” Kid returned your smile with his own half smirk, lifting his own hand to experimentally press against his stump, finding he could move so much better now and his mood was lifted, apart from the embarrassment gnawing at him. Swallowing hard he made his metal arm lift from the floor and rejoin against his stump. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime.” You smiled, quickly leaning in to press a small kiss against his cheek. “I mean it, anytime.” Kid watched you leave with a softened gaze and quickly turned in his seat to return to his worktable. With every passing day you were on this ship, you were getting faster at making him lower his defences and your gaze was getting sharper at seeing that which he hid so well. With his slip up today, it was only a matter of time before you got a full confession of his feelings out of him. Just not yet though, but soon.

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld

[pascaloverx]

HAUNTED

Summary: You awaken from a two-year coma to find that Detective Lois has been eagerly awaiting your recovery, believing you might have witnessed something crucial to catching a serial killer. What you didn’t expect is to learn that she suspects your doctor of being the murderer—and even more shockingly, it appears that you are married to him. Now, you must uncover your lost memories and find out who Charlie Mayhew truly is to you.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm writing another fanfic featuring Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s character from Grotesquerie. The characters belong to the universe created by Ryan Murphy in the series Grotesquerie (2024). This fanfic will include violence, strong language, and adult content. It will portray the character Charlie Mayhew as a doctor. I hope you enjoy the fanfic, but there's nothing certain about its future.

PREVIEW TWO

© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.

ONE

The tension in your hospital room is palpable, Detective Lois and Dr. Mayhew locking eyes as if each were ready to strike. You’re bewildered, unsure of whom or what to believe. But one thing is clear: Dr. Mayhew is your husband. He appears to be the quickest path to recovering your memory—even though Lois seems convinced he’s the reason you’re in this condition.

“Detective Tryon, as eager as you are to drag a statement out of my wife, she’ll be of no use to your scheme of blaming me for your incompetence,” Dr. Mayhew says, running a hand through his hair with a clear hint of tension. “She remembers nothing, and your persistence will only confuse her further.” He sighs heavily, while Lois watches him with a mocking smile, as if her patience has completely worn thin.

“Your performance is so convincing. You must have taken acting lessons at some point in your life,” she says, stepping toward him with a threatening air. “I can’t allow you to harm this woman before she has the chance to tell the world who you really are.”

“Enough!” you exclaim, frustrated by their bickering. Both turn to you, their expressions shifting to something like concern. “Detective Tryon, I appreciate your efforts to keep me safe. But if this man truly is my husband, that must mean something,” you say, almost on instinct. Perhaps you’re being foolish, even hasty. But there has to be something to this. Taking a risk is all you have left—now that you don’t even belong to yourself.

"Are you really willing to risk your life to be near this man, Y/N?" Detective Tryon holds your arm, her grip nearly desperate, as though trying to pull you away from Dr. Mayhew. The force of it makes you uncomfortable, and you wince, letting out a low sound of pain.

“Release my wife, Detective,” Dr. Mayhew snaps, his tone finally sharpened, his calm composure cracking. “I remind you that if we report your misconduct to your superiors, your entire baseless case will fall apart.” He steps between you and Lois, his hands slipping into his lab coat pockets, the stance a clear challenge.

"What would truly please you, right?" Lois challenges, staring straight into Dr. Mayhew's eyes. You watch them silently, still feeling the ache in your arm where Lois had grabbed you.

"Would you like to know what would actually please me?" Dr. Mayhew whispers, moving closer to Lois. "I’d be pleased to have my wife with me again, without the interference of a lunatic so obsessed with her own failures that she needs to ruin my life just to sleep at night. Careful, Lois. You’re becoming obsessed with me." You're uncertain of his intentions, but the authoritative tone in his voice and the way he carries himself is undeniably alluring.

Lois narrows her eyes, her expression darkening as Dr. Mayhew moves closer, his tone laced with mockery and barely concealed venom. “Is that so, Dr. Mayhew? Obsession, you call it?” she scoffs, a bitter smile playing on her lips. “Let’s not confuse dedication to justice with obsession. But perhaps you’re simply too accustomed to manipulating the truth to recognize it when you see it.”

You watch the exchange, torn between skepticism and an undeniable draw toward him. Despite the sharp edge in his words, the way Dr. Mayhew stands his ground, unyielding and unafraid, stirs something within you. Even as his gaze shifts to meet yours, there’s an intensity there that unsettles yet captivates you—a magnetic pull that defies reason.

“Why not focus on your own affairs, Detective,” he murmurs, his eyes still on you, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, “and let my wife and I… reconnect. Unless, of course, you’ve truly no other purpose in your life than meddling in mine.”

Your confidence is remarkable, Charlie," Lois remarks. "Mrs. Mayhew, if you need me for any reason, here’s my number. I’ll also be visiting again soon to see if there’s been any progress in your memory recovery." She hands you a card with her contact information, then smirks mockingly at Dr. Mayhew. "And don’t worry, Charlie, I’ll let Megan know you’ll be unavailable." With that, she finally exits your hospital room.

Charlie stares at you, irritation burning in his gaze. "Do you believe her?" Dr. Mayhew demands, advancing toward you with sudden intensity. You feel as if the air is being drawn from your lungs with his nearness, his gaze piercing. "Honestly, I don’t know whom to believe," you murmur, leaning back against the hospital bed behind you, your eyes locked onto his.

"Fine!" he exclaims, voice laced with indignation. He turns to leave, but then hesitates, his hand lingering on the door frame as if torn between staying and leaving. After a tense pause, he steps back inside, his tone shifting from anger to something raw and vulnerable.

"Y/N… if you can’t trust me, then at least remember what we once were. Remember the promises we made." His voice drops to a murmur, almost pleading. "I’m not the monster she’s painting me to be." The intensity in his words sends a shiver down your spine, leaving you more conflicted than ever as he finally, reluctantly, exits the room. What makes it all worse is that neither of them is truly thinking about you. Neither one noticed that you’ve only just discovered your own name, that you're lost and confused. They don’t see that you don’t want to be manipulated—you want to be understood.

“You are like him…” you murmur, recognizing that you’re no longer in your hospital room. Everything around you is intensely white—the walls, the bed you're seated on, every corner spotless and untouched. A cross hangs on the wall behind the priest, casting a shadow that flickers slightly, as if from candlelight. The room feels steeped in something sacred, almost otherworldly, like a faint echo of a memory stirring within you. The priest looks at you with a serene expression, though there’s an unmistakable weight behind his gaze. As he steps closer, the almost sacred atmosphere around you amplifies the tension. You try to process the overwhelming resemblance to Dr. Mayhew—even the contours of his face are identical, but the priest’s shorter, more traditional hairstyle highlights the difference. Your mind wavers between doubt and recognition, as if your subconscious is trying to unveil something long forgotten.

“You keep searching for answers outside yourself, yet everything you need lies within,” he murmurs, his deep voice echoing through the room like a quiet revelation.

“Father, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, what to feel,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you meet his gaze. Tears slip down your cheeks, and a quiet, aching desperation fills the space between you. The priest, unmoved yet tender, holds your gaze.

“Faith moves mountains, and as long as it resides within you, you will be safe,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle command that resonates deeply. “Find your faith, and you will know what—and whom—to believe.”

Despite the haziness, a strange comfort wraps around your heart, soft yet unexplainable. His words, laced with a familiar warmth, guide you into a calm acceptance, though the reason remains unknown. Then, leaning closer, he whispers in your ear, “Now, kneel and seek forgiveness.” Almost instinctively, you find yourself on your knees before him, grasping the folds of his robe at his knees, your head bowed as though in reverence.

“Father, forgive me,” you whisper, your head bowed. His fingers lift your chin gently, compelling you to meet his gaze. “How can I grant you absolution, when your hands are stained with blood, my sweet sinner?” he murmurs, lowering his face near yours, his breath warm against your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

You’re shocked, frozen beneath his intense gaze, but unable to break away. As you glance down, horror floods your senses—you see your hands smeared with blood. Stumbling backward, you gasp, eyes wide in disbelief. The priest rises from the bed, stepping slowly toward you with an unwavering gaze, a faint trail of blood marking his face. You’re overwhelmed with fear, a scream building in your throat until it finally erupts, piercing the silence. And then—just like that—you awaken from your haunting dream, heart racing, as the unsettling remnants of the nightmare fade into the dim light of your hospital room.

Dr. Mayhew, startled awake in the chair beside your bed, immediately reaches for you. “Hey, Y/N, are you alright?” he asks, his voice filled with concern as he stands and wraps you in a firm embrace. His arms encircle you with a warmth that feels protective, grounding you in the present moment, as if he’s trying to shield you from whatever haunted you.

“I… I had a nightmare,” you whisper once you catch your breath, the tension beginning to ease as you lean into his hold. And everything feels like déjà vu. Just like before, you wake from a nightmare involving the priest, and once again, Dr. Mayhew is by your side. You can't help but wonder if there’s a connection between his presence and the terrifying, bloody dreams that haunt you each night.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Dr. Mayhew murmurs softly, his hand tracing gentle circles on your back, his touch soothing. The warmth of his embrace gives you an unexpected feeling of lightness, as though he’s holding you together amidst the lingering fragments of your nightmare.

“Can we leave this place?” you ask, your voice trembling as you try to stifle the tears that have flowed since you woke. He holds you a little closer, and you feel a subtle tension in his grip, as if considering your question carefully.

“We will, soon,” he assures, his tone steady, though a flicker of something unreadable passes over his face. “For now, rest. I’ll be here.”

"Stay here; I need you to answer me—while looking into my eyes," you insist, tugging at Dr. Mayhew's clothes, almost dislodging his tie. Though he’d intended to return to the hospital chair, he remains by your side, his gaze steady yet guarded.

“Will you even believe my answer?” he asks softly, his voice carrying a hint of doubt, as though unsure anything he says would hold weight with you. His eyes search yours, wary yet attentive, as if weighing what he’s willing to reveal.

"You'll have to take the risk and believe that I will," you say softly, though you're unsure if you can truly trust anything he says. Dr. Mayhew's hand reaches gently to touch your face, but you instinctively pull back, murmuring, "I’m sorry."

“Ask me whatever you wish, Y/N,” he says, his voice tinged with impatience, perhaps confused by your conflicting actions—clinging to him, pulling him closer, yet retreating from his touch. You, too, are struggling to understand what you’re feeling, torn between wanting him near and pushing him away.

“Do you love me?” you ask, your gaze unwavering, trying to find answers in the depths of his eyes. His stare holds yours, as if the question should be irrelevant, as if he has already shown you everything you need to know. His expression softens, but the weight of his response carries something more.

"I’m your husband, Y/N," he replies, his voice steady, but there's an intensity in his eyes, a depth of meaning that you can’t ignore. "Doesn't that answer everything?" His words hang in the air, thick with unspoken emotion, and for a moment, you wonder if the truth lies somewhere in the space between his claims and the confusion that churns in your heart.

"Answer me, Dr. Mayhew, do you love me?" you ask, using a more assertive tone, making it clear that you are not satisfied with his previous answer. He smiles, as if he can't believe it. "I love you, Mrs. Mayhew. I would die for you if necessary," he responds confidently. His eyes are fixed on you, as if waiting for something.

"Then even if the truth disappoints me. Even if you think it's going to hurt me, I need you to be honest. About these murders, about Megan, about everything." You speak firmly, staring into his eyes.

Dr. Mayhew's expression hardens as you mention the two things he surely wishes you would forget. For a moment, he looks at the hospital room wall without saying anything. "Honesty is a double-edged sword. As you inflict it on someone, someone can inflict it on you," his gaze darkens, his demeanor heavy, almost demonic. "If honesty is what you want; honesty is all you'll get."

He stands up, lifting his face to yours, now standing directly in front of you. "You think the truth will set you free, but sometimes it only binds you to something far worse," Dr. Mayhew says, so close to your face it feels as though he's about to kiss you. His words are heavy, yet his gaze is devilishly captivating. For a moment, you sense that he's savoring the expression of fear in your eyes. "Then let the truth bind us both, if that's what we deserve," you reply, challenging him, even though a part of you trembles with fear.

He straightens his coat, his hand running through his hair with a sharp, almost angry gesture, as though attempting to pull himself together. "Rest, Y/N. The truth will find its way to you, sooner or later. But I can promise you this: I am, and will always be, honest with the woman I love—even if she doubts me." With those words, Dr. Mayhew places a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a gesture of tenderness. Then, without another word, he exits your hospital room, leaving you in a heavy silence.

[5eraphim]

Okay so this has been stuck in my head for WEEKS and I finally decided to stop bein scared and ask you to write about it lol

So as a DBD player, I got to thinking that it would be kinda cool if survivors could fight the killer even if it was just once per round and then this scenario popped into my head.

How would Killer react to Survivor!Reader biting them as a defense/distraction/etc? My favs are The Shape, The Executioner, and The Mastermind! Headcannons would be amazing but if you could maybe branch out to make one a one-shot kinda deal? Maybe NSFW if you feel spicy?

P.S your writing and fics LITERALLY give me life YOU’RE SO GOOD 😭🧡

My deepest apologies for how long this has been rotting in my inbox, I thought this prompt was a lot of fun, and again, I'm sorry it took forever for me to get around to answering this. Hope you enjoy all the same!

Characters: Michael Meyers, Albert Wesker, Pyramid Head (Dead By Daylight)

Rating: R (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, GO PLAY OUTSIDE!!)

Content Warnings: Yandere, smut, noncon, stalking, choking, violence, sacrificed to the entity, predator/prey dynamics, obsession, sadism and masochism, reader is kept gender neutral

Word Count: 1.6k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

The Shape

It's almost too predictable for a killer like Michael Myers to wind up in a situation like this. As the survivor he brought with him into the entity's realm made physical payback, her signature, Micheal can't help but attract the "feisty" type.

A man hiding behind a mask, Michael competes with fierce determination and an almost primal compulsion to hunt, stalk, and slaughter like no other. Of the three, Myers would be the most likely to anticipate physical retribution from a survivor, according to him, all part of the hunt. 

Myers prefers to remain hidden by shadows as long as possible, awaiting his perfect opportunity to go in for a decisive kill. But remaining hidden in the dark is a luxury you don't have at your disposal on account of being Myer's obsession.

You didn't want it to come to this. Even before the match started, you prayed to fight any killer, but Myers, your disappointment only grew as you realized minutes later that you were his obsession.

The idea of fighting back physically was a spur-of-the-moment decision; you knew you only had one chance of pulling this off, and if you missed, your fate would be sealed. You usually weren't one to opt for such a risky strategy, but you were too blinded by your fear of Myers. You would do anything to get away.

Even though you couldn't see him, you could feel Myers' eyes locked in on you, no doubt following and trailing you from behind. The paranoia was torture, but you forced yourself to stay strong and ignore Myers, to focus solely on supporting your team. 

When Myers inevitably tracked you down and caught you after getting distracted by something else, you had so much pent-up nervous aggression that you couldn't hold back your body's instinct to fight back.

Fear overtook any lingering traces of rationality as you struggled blindly against Myers, but you had just enough determination reserved to take aim and fire a single punch, aiming for his head, landing against the cheek of the mask; it was just enough to disorient him long enough for you to wriggle free.

Despite the offense, Myers didn't think you had it in you to fight back like that. It excited him! As though you were holding back on him before, and now you were starting to fight back like you really meant it!

After enduring the pressure of being his obsession and succumbing to the fear of it all, you little humanity left to hold onto, almost nothing but your primal fight or flight instincts; it was truly a beautiful sight for him to behold.

The next time he cornered you, Myers decided he ought to follow your lead, only instead of going for your head, he would go for your throat, not with the knife, but with his hand.

And for just a moment, he'd keep you there. Only needing one hand around your throat to keep your entire body pinned into place on the wall behind you. Wood planks made contact with your back at odd angles, the dull pain radiating up and down your spine as you were face to face with Myers, close enough to hear his breathing behind the mask while he observed your face- knowing you believed he was seconds away from slitting your throat. 

Likely, as Myers holds you in such a compromising position, he takes out all his own pent-up frustrations on you. Leaving bitemarks all over your neck and shoulders while he quickly shreds the clothes from your body.

Just as you gave into primal fight-or-flight instincts, he was giving into his own primal urges. He'd won the hunt, and now it was time to let his libido take charge. Half-undressed, he ruts against you, and you can hear his heartbeat racing. Maybe even feel his body warming as his blood flows rapidly, but he remains as silent as a corpse.

After having his fun, Myers will take great pleasure in sacrificing you to the entity. Even if he couldn't take down everyone on your team before this, the opportunity to sacrifice his obsession in such a thrilling bloodbath overshadowed any regular trial as a ruthless killer. 

The Mastermind

It wouldn't take more than an instance of fighting back physically against him for Wesker to decide to hunt you down right away. He would've never suspected another survivor would be bold enough to try something like this on him. Wesker wants to know what makes you think you're strong enough to try something like this.

His reaction would be determined primarily by what point in the trial you try this.

Albert might think it's insufficient enough to ignore if it's early or if he's doing well.

But given how infamous of a hothead he can be, more often than not, any time you try this, expect to be met with hostility.

Wants to see you go from physically resistant to begging him for mercy. On the outside, he pretends to see brats like you as nothing but a petty annoyance to be dealt with, but on the inside, he absolutely loves doing this; keeping the weak in check is how he stays strong.

Wesker doesn't exactly get any legitimate pleasure from being hurt, but he will tap into the pain when fighting back. He does this partly out of loyalty and obligation to the entity but equally out of a petty vengeance to hurt you back twice as hard as you hurt him.

Wesker waits patiently before fighting back, taking care of those annoying teammates first to give you his undivided attention. As well as strategically lying in wait after the confrontation before striking while your guard is down. 

The very first thing Wesker does after tracking you down is wounding you exactly where you hurt him, though he's sure not to let you go until he's drawn blood.

Don't expect him to show you any mercy from here. Might go as far as pushing you down, wiping his shoes against your back as you writhe below, trying to squirm out from under his boot.

It's good foreplay for him, seeing the foolish survivor who dared to fight back, bleeding and barely alive. He won't fuck you in the muck for his own sake, of course. Wesker will push you up against a wall face first while he is taking you from behind.

If he's feeling especially good after sweeping a trial, he might leave you with just enough life to hold onto while you crawl to the hatch. More likely, you won't live long after such a brutal session. But even if you don't die, Wesker will be sure to leave you so beaten and tormented you'll regret trying to fight him like that and won't want to try again. Even if Wesker secretly hopes you will.

The Executioner

While the others welcome the resistance, even if only to crush it, Pyramid Head would likely resent you for trying to physically challenge the killer and disrupt the natural order of things. It was an injustice, and it was imperative to punish you for this.

Imagine playing as a "Gen-Jockey" survivor, the kind of teammate who provides the bare minimum to the rest of the team, putting your own survival above the lives of your teammates, the type of survivor Pyramid Head hated the most. A coward.

All that to say, it was an extreme shock after he cornered you and felt your teeth sinking into the exposed flesh above his glove. 

While you were combative and aggressive now, Pyramid Head knew you couldn't keep this up forever. You were, to him, nothing but a coward deep down. Even if you wanted to pretend like you had any real fight of your own, it wouldn't be long before you surrendered to your own exhaustion. Perhaps he was even doing this as his way of offering you a "fair shot" to find your way out before he got his hands on you. Like he would ever let that happen.

Since you tried to bite him earlier, he'd punish you by fucking you from behind, bent over a broken desk crushing your face against the hardwood surface. He was an inescapable force while you were powerless to stop any of this from below.

Would only give into his beastial nature to hurt and fuck you if he's already managed to kill the rest of your team. It's not his style to slaughter his obsession until he's taken care of the others, and he doesn't want to let anyone pass by without judgment.

If he doesn't get this opportunity during the trial, Pyramid Head will fantasize about killing you off last while staying buried inside you, feeling your pathetic body crumbling and going limp beneath him.

Paradoxical feelings of sadism and protectiveness for you as Pyramid Head is obsessed with being the only one alloweed to hurt you, judge your soul, or torture you. But all this cruelty is undermined by his motivation to keep you from getting hurt by others.

He is most likely to let you live after making love because the instant gratification of an orgasm, as well as the satisfaction of punishing you himself, will keep him from sending you up to the entity. 

Consider this Pyramid Head's very niche kind of post-nut clarity.

[simplygojo]

GhostFace Ep. 2 - Kento Nanami

Author's Note: Hey y'all, tysm for all the love n care you've been sending me. I am basically back to normal now, so lets assume our resume Kinktober schedule..haha.

Spooky Szn Masterlist

This episode includes a Kinktober Prompt request from one of my loves @erebus-et-eigengrau for Nanami with bondage & blade play, I hope you enjoy ;) The request is linked here for any interested <3

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!reader

Kinks: Bondage & Knife Play

Word Count: 2.3K

Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, blade play, fingering, oral, bondage, aggressive sex.

The evening was quiet, except for the soft hum of the streetlights as you made your way back home.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling your attention to the screen.

Nanami: I have a surprise waiting for you. Don’t be scared when you get home.

Your brows furrowed in curiosity, but with Nanami, surprises could range from quiet, thoughtful gestures to things far more... intense. Anticipation began to bubble within you, making your heart beat a little faster.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside, expecting something mild, but your breath caught when you saw him.

Nanami stood in the middle of the room, shirtless, his well-built chest illuminated by the dim lighting.

The yellow-dotted tie you loved so much hung loosely around his neck, and in his hand, the familiar gleam of his short blade reflected the dim light. 

But it wasn’t just that—the Ghostface mask covered his face, eerily tilted in your direction as he regarded you in silence.

The door clicked shut behind you, your back pressing against it instinctively as he took a step toward you. 

“It’s time to play psycho killer,” his voice was low, that deep, rich baritone sending chills down your spine despite the mask obscuring his expression.

"Nanami?" You couldn't help the breathy question, though your body was already responding to the dark intensity of the moment.

Your heart hammered as he closed the distance, the gleam of the short blade catching your attention. 

Before you could process the thought, the flat edge of the blade was tracing along your collarbone, its chill a stark contrast to the heat now flooding your body. 

The touch was delicate, precise—just enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath, but never truly threatening. 

His movements were slow, calculated—designed to draw out every ounce of anticipation.

The chill of the blade heightened the warmth building within you, the juxtaposition making your breath quicken as your nipples hardened under your clothes. 

You gasped softly when he tilted the blade downward, dragging it in a smooth line between your breasts, the tip stopping just above your navel.

"Shhh," he murmured, his voice deep and velvety, that commanding tone sending another shiver down your spine. 

"Don't want the neighbours to think something's wrong," he purred, the dark amusement in his tone sending a fresh jolt of arousal through you—and the mask made it all the more unnerving.

The pressure of his hand grounded you, pulling you closer to him while the blade remained a ghost of a threat, glinting in the low light as it hovered near your skin.

With a sharp tug, he steered you towards the bedroom, your feet barely keeping up with the sudden shift in control. His grip tightened as he pushed you forward, his body a solid force behind you, leading you into the shadows of the room.

You bit your lip, watching as he pulled you toward the bed. His strong grip on your wrists had you stumbling slightly, but he caught you easily, laying you down on the soft mattress. 

The weight of his body pressed against yours as he hovered over you, and the cool blade brushed against your thigh now, making your heart race even faster.

“Don’t move,” he warned softly, the blade's edge grazing your inner thigh, and you obeyed without question, heat pooling between your legs at the dark intensity in his voice.

Your eyes trailed over him, from his chiselled torso to the way his hands worked skillfully, keeping you bound. 

You couldn’t see his face, but the mask... the mask had you trembling. It was something out of a twisted fantasy, and the fact that it was Nanami underneath it only made it hotter.

Your heart raced as he loomed over you, a powerful figure cloaked in shadows and desire. With each passing second, the air around you thickened, charged with anticipation and a hint of danger. 

You barely had time to register your excitement before he moved again, the blade gliding against your skin as he expertly worked to undress you.

The cool steel slid up your thigh, drawing closer to the waistband of your pants. 

In one swift motion, he sliced through the fabric as if it were nothing, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. 

The remnants fell away, leaving you bare beneath him, the cool air hitting your skin and intensifying your arousal. You gasped at the sudden chill, and he took a moment to admire your body, his masked head tilting slightly as if he were considering his next move.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. 

“So beautiful and needy.” The words sent a shockwave of heat coursing through your body, igniting a spark of desire that made your cheeks flush. 

You squirmed slightly under his gaze, the sensation of being completely bare in front of him heightening your awareness of every inch of your skin.

“Nanami…” You breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. 

You wanted to move, to reach out for him, but the command in his tone held you captive.

With a calculated slowness, he reached for your remaining clothing, fingers deftly working to peel it away from your body. 

Once you were completely naked, you felt a swell of vulnerability mixed with exhilaration. 

You could feel his gaze raking over you through the white mask, a mix of appreciation and lust, and it sent shivers racing down your spine.

You squirmed beneath him, your nerves electrified with every inch of skin he revealed. 

“Don’t you dare move,” he repeated, voice low and insistent, a warning wrapped in lust. 

With a swift, practiced motion, he reached for his tie—the one hanging loosely around his neck—and looped it around your wrists, securing them tightly to the bedframe. 

The silk felt soft against your skin, but the firm knots left no room for escape. You tugged at the restraints instinctively, testing them, only to realize you were completely at his mercy.

Nanami wasn’t finished. 

He moved down your body, the bed dipping slightly as he reached for the ropes he’d prepared earlier. With deliberate care, he tied each of your legs to the bedposts, spreading them open. 

The rough texture of the rope bit slightly into your skin, the contrast to the smoothness of his tie amplifying the sensation.

The position left you vulnerable, completely exposed beneath him, and the weight of that realization sent a surge of heat through your body. 

You were bound, spread, and utterly helpless under his control, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation.

“Now, look at you,” he murmured, his tone holding a teasing edge that made your stomach flutter. His hand slid down your thigh, grazing the rope as he admired his handiwork. 

“My pretty girl, all spread out for me…” You felt yourself squirm again at the sound of his voice, “so needy for me.”

“Nanami,” you whined, testing the restraints as you squirmed beneath him, your body reacting instinctively to the delicious tension of being tied up and completely at his mercy. 

“Please, I need—”

He cut you off with a low chuckle, stepping back slightly to appreciate the sight of you, all helpless before him. 

“You need what, exactly? To be touched? To be fucked?” His words dripped with lust, the thrill of power evident in his tone. 

“We’ll see just how needy you really are.” He practically growled.

The tie around your wrists held firm, the soft fabric biting just enough into your skin to remind you that you were bound, helpless under his command. 

Every instinct screamed for release, for his touch, but you were utterly at his mercy, and the way his masked gaze lingered over you only made the ache between your thighs unbearable.

“Nanami, please…” Your voice came out desperate, a soft plea laced with the need for his touch, for anything that would ease the tension building within you.

He let out a low chuckle, his fingers danced closer to where you wanted them most, barely grazing the wetness between your legs.

You whimpered in response, hips instinctively bucking upward in search of relief, but he pressed you back down, his grip firm yet controlled. 

“Ah, ah,” he scolded softly, giving your throbbing pussy a playful tap, “be patient.”

His thumb brushed against your slick folds, gathering your arousal before he slowly dipped his finger inside you, making you gasp at the sudden sensation. 

He moved with excruciating slowness, dragging his finger out before adding another, curling them just enough to send sparks of pleasure through your body. 

He was driving you insane, holding you on the brink of release but never quite letting you fall.

“Please, Nanami,” you begged, your voice breaking as the need for release became unbearable. “I’m so close, please—”

“You’ll cum when I say so,” he growled softly, his fingers pushing even deeper into you, his free hand squeezing your thigh tightly, his dominance evident in every word.

Your legs trembled as he pumped his fingers in and out, a torturous rhythm that only left you wanting more as he started you down through that mask.

You tugged at the restraints, your body writhing as you begged for more. 

“Please, Nanami—” Your voice cracked, your chest heaving with need.

But he wasn’t done teasing you.

You watched through half-lidded eyes as his hand slowly reached up, gripping the bottom edge of the mask. 

With deliberate care, he lifted it, pushing it back so that it rested on the top of his head. 

His eyes, dark with lust and intent, were now fully visible, the soft strands of his blonde hair damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead.

The sight of Nanami—his strong jaw clenched in restraint, lips parted slightly as he watched you with an intensity that made your heart skip—was almost too much. His usually composed demeanour was completely undone, his desire for you naked in his gaze.

He leaned his head down, and his lips pressed a soft kiss against your swollen clit. 

The sensation sent a sharp jolt of pleasure coursing through you, a cry escaping your lips as your head fell back against the bed.

“Good girl,” he praised softly, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh. 

His tongue darted out, flicking over your clit in slow, deliberate strokes, sending you spiralling further into the haze of pleasure. 

Each flick of his tongue was slow, and methodical, paired perfectly with the way his fingers continued to thrust deep inside you, stretching and teasing your walls.

You whimpered, toes curling in response to the maddening rhythm. 

He sucked gently on your clit, sending a pulse of heat straight through your body, and your legs trembled uncontrollably. His teeth grazed your sensitive bud just enough to make you yelp, as fat tears pricked at your eyes, the line between pleasure and pain blurring beautifully.

"F-fuck, Nanami!" You gasped, the overwhelming sensation of his mouth driving you to the edge. 

Your body strained against the restraints, desperate for more, hips arching off the bed as your mind clouded with ecstasy.

He pulled back slightly, a low hum of satisfaction escaping him as he watched your body writhe beneath him. 

"You're so close already," he said, his voice dark and teasing. 

“Beg for it.”

The words barely registered through the haze of pleasure, but you could hear the command in his tone. 

“Please—fuck, please, Nanami, I need you,” you whimpered, eyes half-lidded and voice shaking with desperation. “I’m begging you… please…”

His chuckle was low, predatory, and he finally lifted his head up, wiping his glistening lips with the back of his hand. 

Without wasting another second, he positioned himself between your thighs, lining himself up with your dripping entrance. 

Your body trembled with anticipation, and when he pushed into you, filling you completely, a ragged moan tore from your throat.

The stretch was fucking intoxicating, every inch of him pressing into you as your walls clenched around him. 

He didn’t give you time to adjust, thrusting into you hard and deep, his pace relentless right from the start. 

The sounds of your slick heat mixing with his low groans filled the room, the rhythm of his hips driving you further into the haze of pleasure.

“Na-Nanami—” You gasped, your back arching and your hands pulling against the fabric binding them as he hit that perfect spot inside you, your entire body shaking from the force of his thrusts.

“Such a needy little thing,” he growled, his voice strained with pleasure as he reached up, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart, now.” He ordered, his voice dark and commanding.

His words sent you spiralling over the edge, your body tensing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You screamed his name as you came, your walls clenching tightly around him, milking him as your body trembled violently with release.

Nanami’s thrusts grew erratic, chasing his own release as your gummy walls pulsed around him. 

With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside you, filling you completely as his own orgasm tore through him.

The two of you stayed there, tangled in each other’s heat, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your release as he collapsed against you. 

The weight of him pressed into you, grounding you after the intense high, the room filled with the sound of your heavy breathing.

"Good girl," he whispered, his lips ghosting over your ear, gently pulling down the Ghostface mask as he gently untied your wrists from the bedframe, leaving you breathless and completely sated.

Author's Note II: If you got this far I hope you loved it!! I just wanted ti say that if you personally want a specific character for the GhostFace series, please lmk via comments!! LURV U <3