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punkshort · 5 months

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Roommates | 3. fun in the sun

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Maria organizes a getaway to Lake Travis for a long weekend. You invite your new boyfriend, but things quickly deteriorate, leaving Joel to help you pick up the pieces.

Chapter Warnings: language, smoking cigarettes, alcohol consumption, flirting, sexual tension, jealousy, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), semi-pubic sex, fingering, hand job, description of a panic attack, heartbreak, food consumption, golf

WC: 8.4K

Series Masterlist

Charlie was cute.

Well, cute didn't seem like the right word, and handsome sounded too stiff. But he was both those things and more. You discovered he was also very dapper when you met him for lunch one day during work. He wore a perfectly tailored dark blue suit with a crisp white shirt. One button was left open at the top, revealing a sliver of his tanned skin underneath. You almost felt out of place wearing what you thought was one of your nicer dresses when he took you to some steakhouse you never heard of that didn't have the prices on the menu and you began to wonder how he didn't own a home yet since he appeared so successful.

"I never have the time to look, to be honest," he told you with a shrug. "Work keeps me busy during the week, and even some weekends. Then between grocery shopping and laundry and occasionally going to parties and meeting super pretty girls," he smiled with a wink and you giggled, "I just never find the time to house hunt."

"I guess I got lucky with Maria doing all the heavy lifting for me," you joked as you picked at the remains of your salad.

"Yeah, and she did a great job. It's a good starter house," he said with a nod before checking his phone.

"Mm, I don't know about starter. She was hoping to raise a family in that neighborhood one day. She really likes the schools."

Charlie made a little noise and you glanced up. "What?" you asked with a small smile.

"Nothing, it's nothing," Charlie said, setting his phone back down on the table. When you tilted your head and gave him a look, he sighed. "It's a fine area of town, I just personally would prefer to raise a family elsewhere."

"Oh, yeah? Like where?"

"Barton Creek would be great," he said, and you nearly choked on your drink.

"Barton Creek? That's like, so expensive," you laughed but his mouth didn't twitch. Your smile slowly fell and you said, "are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. You wouldn't want to live there?"

You huffed and sat back in your chair. "Yeah, sure, in my dreams. But I could never afford something like that."

Charlie leaned forward and took your hand. "But one day, maybe you could. If you go back to school at night and really apply yourself, it would only take a few years-"

"I told you I'm not interested in becoming a lawyer," you said, smiling up as the waiter cleared your plates. "I'm happy doing what I'm doing right now."

"Well, I'm just saying. You're young, there's options out there. You should really give it some thought."

At the time, you thought Charlie was being sweet and encouraging by trying to help you reach your full potential, but you would later discover you were wrong.

"I want to get out of town for a bit," Maria said at family dinner one night. You all looked up at her, bracing yourselves for whatever she had already planned in her head. "What do you think about renting a spot on Lake Travis?"

She immediately clocked the table's hesitation. "Just a long weekend. Four days on the lake, get out of this heat and on the water. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"When?" Tommy asked, and Maria knew instantly she had won.

She gave him a few different options while he scrolled the calendar in his phone to look at his work schedule. Weekends were hard for Tommy and hit or miss with Joel, so she knew it would be a tough sell.

Tommy picked a weekend and Maria's eyes lit up. Joel was about to decline when you piped up and agreed to go and suddenly, he couldn't resist.

"Amazing!" Maria said, clapping her hands giddily. She picked up her phone and began to look at availability for lodging. "You can invite Charlie, too, of course," she added without looking up.

"Oh, right," you said, feeling stupid for not even considering him. "Yeah, let me see if he's free."

Joel's heart sank and he looked down at his food, pushing the pasta around on his plate while you texted that guy you've been seeing, completely unaware that it was tearing him up inside. He tried to not let it bother him and he thought he was doing a really good job so far, but he wasn't sure how he would be able to handle four days in the same house, watching him touch you and kiss you and make you laugh. All the things he wanted to be doing, and more, but couldn't.

"He can come for Saturday and Sunday but he has to work Friday and Monday," you announced. Okay, so two days of watching another man touch what should be his.

Maria spent the rest of the night planning the trip while Joel bit his tongue. Why couldn't Charlie take off work a month in advance? he wanted to ask. Doesn't he want to spend time with you?

But of course, he didn't say a word. He and Tommy listened as the two of you researched activities, restaurants and bars in the area and planned out the weekend, making sure to carve out enough time to relax on the beach because you knew that's what he and Tommy really wanted to do. Fuck, he couldn't wait to see you in a bikini.

"Aren't you excited?" you asked him when Tommy and Maria headed up to bed.

"'Course I am."

"You don't seem like it. I thought this would be right up your alley."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "Why's that?"

You grinned and settled back into the couch. "Girls on the beach, obviously. Dripping wet from the water or sweating from the heat. I thought you would be more excited."

"I am," he said, leaving out that he was excited to see you dripping wet from the water or sweat. You hummed and stretched out your legs on the couch.

"Feel like watching a movie?" you asked, and he quickly nodded.

He knew it was pathetic but he couldn't help it. Any amount of time you wanted to spend with him alone, he would take. And when you curled up under a blanket and shoved your feet underneath his thigh while you watched the TV, it took everything in him not to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.

Because you were spoken for. And that would be wrong.

It was so fucking hot.

The day you left for the lake, the temperature was close to record breaking and all of you had to admit once you were in the comfort of the air conditioned truck that Maria's plan to get out of town was truly inspired. And once you arrived at the house you rented, you had to give Maria even more credit because the place was stunning.

It was a two story cabin with four bedrooms, a spacious living area and a kitchen behind it. The walls were all made of wood, stained a dark cherry for ambiance while the house sat a mere ten minute walk to the beach.

"Oh my god, this place is so cool," you said softly as you walked around the upper level, checking out each bedroom. It was hard to choose, they were all equally beautiful and had great views of the small forest around you, so you didn't mind when Tommy and Maria picked the master suite. Each room had its own charm.

The first evening you were there, you decided to go to dinner and then hit up a bar nearby, just the four of you. Charlie had planned on arriving sometime the next morning and then you would head to the beach, where you would spend a majority of the day getting tan and drinking whatever was coldest from the cooler you brought from home.

"Okay, do not even start that shit with me, Joel! You know I have a fear of heights! I'm not going anywhere near that fucking thing!"

He laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked down the boardwalk behind Tommy and Maria.

"It ain't even that high! It's just a goddamn ferris wheel!"

"I don't care, I'm not going on it. You guys can go and have a lovely time. I will stay down here, safe on the ground where I can't plummet to my death."

"C'mon, now. You know I won't let anythin' bad happen to you," Joel said, his voice dropping an octave lower as he pulled you in closer, the alcohol coursing through both your veins began to call the shots when you leaned into his hold.

"And what are you gonna do, Joel, if the thing breaks and I'm stuck up there? Do you have some superpowers I'm not aware of?"

"No, I think you're aware of all my superpowers," he teased, making you blush and shove him away with a laugh. "But I know I could distract you. Help keep your mind off it til help arrives."

You stumbled a bit as you laughed harder, Tommy and Maria leaving you behind when they spotted an ice cream stand.

"Yeah, I bet you would. Telling me shitty jokes or more stories of how you tormented Tommy on the school bus?"

Joel grinned and grabbed your hand, yanking you into him again as you continued to walk past various bars and restaurants packed with tourists.

"Both would work, I'm sure of it, but I had somethin' else in mind," he said without thinking, getting too carried away in the moment. It felt too good, it felt so natural as you walked with your fingers linked together around your shoulders and your head leaning against the side of his chest.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" you giggled, then hiccuped, then giggled again. Why did you have to be so fucking cute?

He opened his mouth to say something he would probably regret in the morning, then bit his tongue when you looked up at him curiously. You saw the look in his eye and you cleared your throat, leaning away from him when you realized how inappropriate the two of you must have looked.

"Maybe I'll try the smaller one," you said, trying to steer the conversation back after the awkward moment.

"Nah, I'm just teasin' you. Don't do anythin' you ain't comfortable with," he told you, making you smile right as you caught up with Tommy and Maria. He loved making you smile.

"You guys wanna head back?" Tommy asked, tossing a handful of used napkins in a nearby trash can.

"Yeah, I should probably get to bed. Charlie's getting here early tomorrow and he wanted to try to get a hike in before the beach," you said, pulling your phone out to see if you had any missed texts from him. Joel swallowed and looked away.

"A hike? Since when are you a hiker?" Maria said with a laugh. You shrugged and grinned before looping your arm with hers, heading back in the direction of the house.

"Charlie must really like her," Tommy said as he walked side by side with Joel, both of them watching you and Maria giggling and poking each other in the ribs. "Always took him for a workaholic. Surprised he would be interested in coming out here."

Joel frowned before lighting up a cigarette. "It's the weekend. Didn't think he worked on the weekends."

"Oh, he doesn't, but he likes to put in extra time. Always chasin' that next promotion. Always been that way."

Joel exhaled a puff of smoke before replying. "How'd you know him again?"

"Used to work at the bar with me, if you can believe it," Tommy said, "but it was just somethin' to keep money in his pocket while he finished school. He was always a hard worker, even behind the bar. Real focused, y'know? Wasn't surprised at all when he got a job right outta college with that finance company."

Joel took another drag from his cigarette and allowed his gaze to drift to the curve of your ass in your shorts, knowing that the darkness would give him cover. "And you stayed friends all these years? Doesn't sound like you got much in common."

Tommy shrugged. "He's a nice guy and fun to hang out with when he lets loose. Used to be a good wingman back in the day. But he's the type of guy who's real driven. Sets his sights on a goal and will do whatever it takes to get it. I think his parents put alotta pressure on him growin' up."

Joel nodded and flicked his cigarette onto the pavement as they walked up the driveway to the house. He should be happy for you. It sounded like Charlie was a catch but he couldn't stop from comparing himself to your boyfriend. Even if he quit his job tomorrow and started over doing something normal, he would never reach the level of success Charlie had.

He didn't stand a chance in hell.

Maria was right. You were decidedly not a hiker. But Charlie seemed so excited to explore the area and you were just so grateful he took time out of his busy schedule to spend an entire weekend with you that you felt compelled to agree.

At least he gave you a great view of his muscular back as you trailed behind him, your legs ready to give out from the exertion any minute.

"I bet you made so much money as a bartender," you told him. He turned around and shot you a smirk.

"You checking me out back there?"

"Can you blame me?" you giggled.

"It's beautiful out here, babe," he said once you reached a high point with a clearing. He took a swig of water while you caught your breath. "Thanks for inviting me. I've never been out this way before."

"Really?" you asked in disbelief, "it's not that far from the city."

"Yeah, well, you know how it is," was all he said. You sat down on a fallen tree and stretched out your legs while Charlie took a few pictures of the view.

"Isn't Joel seeing anyone he could have invited this weekend?" Charlie asked out of the blue. You paused for a moment, taken off guard at the thought of Joel with a girlfriend. Something you never really considered before.

"Uh, I don't think he's seeing anyone serious," you replied.

Charlie chuckled and sat down next to you. "He's a bit of a fifth wheel, don't you think?"

Your face twisted up in disapproval when you looked at him. "Not at all. He's, like, part of our family. If anything-"

You stopped yourself before finishing your sentence but it didn't matter. Charlie furrowed his brow and glared at you.

"What? If anything, I'm the fifth wheel?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you were about to."

You sighed and rubbed your eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just because we all live together, that's all."

He scoffed and stood up, brushing off the back of his shorts before picking up his water bottle from the ground.

"We should head back," he grumbled as the guilt settled deep in your chest. You stood and wrapped your fingers around his bicep.

"Wait, come here," you said softly. He sighed and hung his head before turning around to face you. "I'm sorry. Really. I am," you reached up to cup his face and pressed your lips tenderly against his. You felt him relax into your touch and you smiled against his lips. "Can I make it up to you later?" you asked suggestively, and Charlie laughed.

"I'll hold you to it," he said with a playful swat on your ass. You squeaked and he grabbed your hand. "Let's get back. I wanna go to the beach and relax with you."

"That sounds amazing," you said dreamily as you followed him back the way you came, grateful the trail was now downhill.

Joel didn't like Charlie.

And it wasn't because he had his hands all over you the entire fucking day, but that didn't help matters. He tried to keep an open mind, he really did, but something about him just felt off. It clicked with Joel later when he noticed Charlie had encouraged you to cover up your bikini before heading over to the bar to grab some drinks, even though they had brought plenty to share in the cooler. You had initially protested, laughing him off when you thought he was joking, but gave in when you realized he didn't want other men staring at you at the bar.

Charlie was trying to control you and you didn't even realize it.

Those chips are terrible for you, babe. Try these instead. They're baked.

You gotta reapply sunscreen after swimming. Don't you know that, babe?

What are you reading that trash for? You gotta let me broaden your horizons, babe.

Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe.

It was really getting under Joel's fucking skin.

"You're so quiet today," you said, plopping down next to him after spreading out a towel on the sand.

"Am I?"

You gave him a look and grinned. "Yeah. What's up with you? Did you not sleep good or something?"

Joel shrugged and looked out at the water, grateful his sunglasses were able to disguise his feelings on that particular day. "Not really."

You hummed and regarded him silently for another moment before lying flat on your back, stretching yourself out to bask in the sun's warm rays. You took off your sunglasses and closed your eyes with a contented sigh while he fought the urge to stare at your perfect body so goddamn close to him.

He forced himself to scan the beach, looking for anything to keep his mind off your soft skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat just within an arm's reach. He felt a stirring below his waist when he imagined running his tongue between your breasts, licking up the sweat collecting there.

"Everything okay?" you asked when Charlie reappeared, his phone in hand. Joel shifted and tried to subtly rest his book over his crotch.

"Yeah, just a quick work call. Hey Joel, I think that girl's checking you out," Charlie said, sitting down in the sand next to you.

Joel resisted the urge to roll his eyes and forced himself to be nice. For your sake.

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"The one in the white bikini. Blonde hair, big tits."

You whipped your head in Charlie's direction, unable to keep the shock from your tone when you whispered his name in disbelief. Joel tried not to watch but he could tell you were offended and he hardly blamed you. Who says that in front of their girlfriend?

"Not really my type," Joel said, settling back in his chair and closing his eyes.

"Not your type?" Charlie scoffed, and Joel cracked open one eye, once again grateful for his sunglasses because he caught you trying to silently shut Charlie up, but he continued to ignore you. "If she's not your type then who is?"

Your fucking girlfriend is my type, asshole, he wanted to say. Instead he just shrugged and hoped he would drop it.

He didn't.

"Come on, why don't you at least try to talk to her. Maybe invite her to dinner tonight. Then it would be all couples for once."

"Charlie," you hissed, a little louder this time. "He's not interested. Leave him alone."

"What's the problem? You were just saying earlier how you wished Joel would find a girl. I'm just trying to give him a little encouragement," Charlie said with a smirk. Your mouth fell open and you shook your head but it was too late. Joel's heart plummeted into his stomach and the familiar sting of rejection crept up his throat, strangling him. If you were privately telling Charlie you wanted him find someone, that must mean you were really over him, and whatever foolish shred of hope he was clinging to was all for nothing.

"I never said that! Joel, I'm so sorry," you said, scrambling up from the sand and turning on Charlie angrily. "Why would you-"

"It's fine," Joel said curtly, standing up and brushing the sand off his swim trunks. "You're right. I'm gonna go talk to her."

You twisted your neck to look up at him, your mouth opening and shutting as you struggled to come up with something to say.

"Y-yeah. I mean... go for it," you stammered and watched as Joel made his way across the beach. Even from a distance you could see the girl's face light up as he approached and you felt a pit form in your stomach.

"Why would you lie to him like that?" you asked Charlie with a scowl. He grinned and settled back into his chair with a book.

"I just had a feeling if a close friend motivated him, he would do it. Poor guy needs to get laid."

Fortunately you could blame the heat from the sun on your reddening cheeks. Charlie had no idea what Joel really did for work. You always skirted around the question whenever it was brought up because deep down, you knew Charlie would have a problem with it.

You slipped your sunglasses back on with a sigh and crossed your arms, still pissed off with Charlie but not in the mood to get into an argument. You tried not to stare as Joel flirted with the girl in the white bikini. She leaned into him and playfully shoved his shoulder with a giggle and your chest tightened when you saw him thread his fingers together with hers and lead her towards the bar.

You had absolutely no right to get jealous. Joel wasn't your boyfriend for that exact reason: jealousy. You had your own boyfriend who was very smart, handsome and successful. And sure, sometimes Charlie pushed you into doing things out of your comfort zone, but he was trying to help you grow as a person. So if he was so great, why did you spend so much time thinking about Joel?

Chelsea was sweet, in her late twenties, got her degree in economics and also spent the better part of half an hour subtly rubbing her ass against Joel's hips at the bar. It was crowded, being right on the beach, and getting louder and rowdier as the afternoon dragged on. At first, Joel thought it was an accident, that the crowds of people forced her to press up against him. But he soon discovered it was quite intentional when she ducked her hand under the bar to rub his cock through his swim trunks.

"Whoa, what're you doin' down there?" he chuckled. She beamed up at him innocently.

"Feel like going for a swim?" she asked. He thought she was ignoring his question until they got in the water, swimming out a ways where it was quiet, but not too deep. Chelsea glanced around before wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth against his, wasting no time slipping her tongue past his lips with a soft moan.

"I recognized you," she admitted, dragging her mouth down the column of his throat and dipping her hand below the water. He hissed when she slid past his waistband and wrapped her hand around his cock.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm," she said with a mischievous grin, her fist languidly stroking him up and down where nobody could see. "You're in dirty movies."

He laughed and squeezed her hips, encouraging her to come closer to him.

"You got me."

Even though she had her hand down his shorts in the middle of a lake surrounded by people enjoying a hot summer day, he had to admit that Charlie was right about her. She was sexy and charming and he liked how confident she was. She also seemed more than okay with his profession, which thrilled him. Maybe this was something that could actually work.

The first red flag came when he had two fingers curled inside her and she murmured I bet I feel better than those girls you have to fuck, huh?

It took him off guard for a moment but he shrugged it off, thinking it was just an idea that turned her on, so he told her yeah, so tight, baby.

The second red flag was when she asked are you gonna think about me next time you're at work?

His hips stuttered a bit underwater and he could feel the mental block building up. He tried kissing Chelsea to keep her from talking but it was too late, so instead he focused all his energy on getting her off with his fingers. Her grip loosened around his cock when she came, her moans muffled against his mouth. She grabbed at his shoulders desperately as her muscles went lax and he whispered I got you and held her against his chest until she caught her breath.

Over Chelsea's shoulder he could see you and Charlie on the beach. It was far away but he could spot you anywhere. While Chelsea murmured into his skin and raked her fingers through his hair, his eyes were pinned on you. You were standing up and brushing the sand off your legs, your perfect ass sticking out when you bent over in that hot pink bikini that was driving him fucking crazy all day.

Chelsea's hand was wrapped around his cock again, the mental block disappearing the longer he watched you. He groaned when you began to rub sunscreen into your arms, your tits bouncing with each and every movement. Chelsea took that as a sign to go faster. She whispered in his ear how big he was and before he even had a chance to stop it, his mind was imagining you saying that, instead. He remembered how nervous you were but then how you begged for his cock and his hips began to thrust into her hand underwater. Then, his breath caught in his throat when he watched you untie your bikini top, your arm holding the tiny pieces of fabric against your chest as the strings hung loose and you positioned yourself face down on the towel to tan in the sun.

"Fuck," Joel groaned, his cock pulsing in Chelsea's hand as he came. His breath was ragged and he fought to stand up in the water and not succumb to sinking to the bottom of the lake. She seemed to sense his struggle because she whispered in his ear let's go back.

As he swam to shore, the guilt began to wash over him for thinking about you when he was with another girl. That wasn't his intention at all. It was disrespectful to both you and Chelsea. But you were directly in his eyeline and he couldn't seem to stop himself. He could do better. He would do better.

"Hey, what're you doin' for dinner? A few of my friends are all goin' to this Italian place-"

"Oh," Chelsea said, cutting him off in surprise when they finally made it to the beach. "I'm sorry, thank you, but I have plans tonight."

He was a little disappointed but he knew giving a girl he just met a couple hours notice to go to dinner was asking a lot. "Don't worry 'bout it. Can I get your number? Maybe we can meet up tomorrow?"

Chelsea gave him a disbelieving look as she adjusted her swimsuit. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, 'course I am. I'd like to get to know you better," he said with a lopsided grin. She laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck and that was when Joel felt the uneasiness settle deep in his chest.

"I'm sorry, Joel. I thought this was just a hook up," she said, biting her lip and glancing around the beach. He could feel the smile fall from his face but he cleared his throat, trying to hide his disappointment.

"Y-yeah, sure, I get it."

"I mean, you're really sweet and all, it's just... you know," she said with a little shrug. He swallowed and nodded. He knew. You can't take a pornstar home to meet your parents.

"Maybe I'll see you around?" he said, and Chelsea nodded. She kissed him goodbye and he watched as she made her way down the beach towards her group of friends, who had been watching with great interest.

He was living every man's dream and he couldn't feel shittier about it.

He didn't want to just hook up with random girls anymore. It was fun when he was in his twenties but now it just felt pathetic. He sighed and turned his head in your direction. Charlie looked like he had dozed off in his chair while you were still laying face down with your eyes closed on your towel, your smooth skin coated with a sheen of sweat, pinkening under the sun's rays.

As he began to walk back towards the pair of you, he spotted Tommy and Maria making their way over from the opposite side of the beach, having done their own excursion for a couple hours that day and promised to catch up with the rest of you before dinner.

Joel was relieved. At least there would be a buffer.

Admittedly, Joel drank a little too much at dinner. He was still a little bothered by his afternoon with Chelsea, but he would have gotten over it had Charlie not picked at the scab every chance he got. First, he ribbed him about not being able to seal the deal when he showed up to dinner alone, but Joel just politely laughed it off. Then, as dinner progressed and the table was on their third round, Charlie began to point out girls around the restaurant who looked like they could be single, asking Joel if he thought they were his type with a teasing lilt to his voice.

You hadn't really been paying attention. You were too engrossed with something Maria was saying, leaning across the table excitedly as the thin strap of your sundress slid down your shoulder. Your skin was practically glowing from the sun, your eyes sparkled when you giggled with Maria and Joel was finding it more and more difficult to keep his gaze off you. Charlie either didn't notice or care. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, his thumb brushing against your back or your arm while he explained to Tommy the Chelsea backstory. Tommy's eyes flickered back and forth between Charlie and Joel, providing a few forced chuckles at his teasing, then changed the subject the first chance he got.

"What d'we wanna do tonight?" he had asked, breaking up your private conversation at the other end of the table.

"Why don't we hit the boardwalk?" Charlie offered, tossing back the rest of his old fashioned.

"We did that last night," you said.

"It's my only night here, babe. I wanna check out the rides and shit."

Joel's jaw tensed and he looked down at the table.

Of course, everyone agreed, so once dinner was over they all strolled down the sidewalk towards all the bright lights, the intoxicating smell of sugar and the sound of carnival games in the air. Charlie spotted the Ferris wheel and snatched your hand.

"C'mon, babe, let's check it out!"

You stopped dead in your tracks, making him spin around in surprise. "I don't like heights, I'll just wait-"

"Oh, come on! It'll be romantic," Charlie murmured suggestively, pulling you into his chest and pinching your chin. Joel hurriedly walked past to catch up with Tommy and Maria, unable to stand there and watch him kiss you. He knew he was being unreasonable. He knew he had to get his jealousy under control or else it would drive a wedge between the two of you and he couldn't possibly risk that. You meant far too much to him. So, he tried to distance himself for the remainder of the night. He hung out with Tommy and Maria, checking out various shops, getting candied apples and playing games while he forced himself to not look over his shoulder and seek you out.

Looking back on it, he probably shouldn't have gotten that beer and shot at the bar after Tommy and Maria ducked into a photo booth. His head was already swimming from the drinks at dinner but he really didn't want to be awake later to hear you and Charlie through the walls.

Tommy and Maria found him after the photo booth and showed him the strip of pictures, laughing at some of the props and faces they were making when Maria suggested they take a ride on the ferris wheel since it would likely be their last chance. Joel told them he would just wait, not wanting to admit the mere thought of those little cars swaying back and forth made his stomach churn with the amount of alcohol he had drank that night.

He was smoking a cigarette and scrolling on his phone, sitting on a bench near the ferris wheel after Tommy and Maria had gotten in line when he heard you. The panic in your voice sent a jolt of fear down his spine and he jumped up, flicking his cigarette on the ground as he whipped his head back and forth, searching for you. Finally, he spotted you pushing your way through the crowds of people in front of the ride, your face red and soaked with tears. His heart sank and he rushed over just as Charlie emerged a few seconds behind you. When he reached out to touch your arm, you yanked it back so forcefully that you fell on your hands and knees, scraping your skin against the hot blacktop.

Joel called your name and you looked up frantically, your chest heaving. You reached out a shaky arm towards him and he immediately pulled you up off the ground, his eyes raking up and down your body, assessing you for damage. Aside from some red scrapes on your hands and knees from the fall, you appeared fine, but you clawed at his arms and gasped I can't breathe and his heart began to slam wildly in his chest. He held you up against him and twisted around, trying to spot a paramedic when Charlie waved you both off with a dry laugh.

"Bro, she's fine, she just got scared on the ferris wheel."

"She's not fine, fuckin' look at her!" Joel yelled, turning a few heads, but he didn't care. He dropped his gaze to your face, cupping your jaw and wiping your tears away. "You're alright. Hey, c'mon, you can do this. Take a deep breath in through your nose, like this. Watch-" he inhaled deeply and you did the same through clenched teeth, then he exhaled slowly, pursing his lips as you continued to follow his lead. He did it a few more times until the tears stopped and your color returned to normal.

"You alright?" he asked softly, brushing your hair away from your face. You nodded and looked around for somewhere to sit. He seemed to read your mind because he led you by the elbow towards the bench he vacated. Giving you a chance to catch your breath, he turned on Charlie.

"What the fuck, man? Why'd you make her go on that goddamn thing?"

His nostrils were flaring and he could feel the anger bubbling up into his chest.

"I didn't force her to do anything," Charlie said with a frown. "She's a fucking adult, she made her own decision-"

"Because you fuckin' pressured her!" Joel shouted, taking a menacing step forward. "I heard her tell you she was afraid of heights so don't bullshit me."

Charlie's hand clenched into a fist and his jaw tensed. "Why don't you mind your own fucking business before I knock you on your ass?"

"Is that a threat?" Joel countered, closing the distance between him and Charlie, staring him dead in the eye as he waited for him to make a move.

You shoved yourself off the bench and quickly wedged yourself between the two men, a palm pressed against each of their chests, pushing them apart. "Stop it, please," you begged, "I just wanna go back to the house."

They stared each other down for another moment before Charlie looked away with a scoff. He grabbed your hand and muttered something under his breath as he began to lead you away, but when you passed by Joel, you stopped.

"Thank you," you told him softly. You reached out to grab his hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. He nodded and forced a small smile before Charlie tugged on your other hand. Joel watched until the two of you disappeared into the crowd before he sighed and collapsed back onto the bench. He raked his fingers through his hair, trying to get his temper under control when Tommy and Maria walked over, hand in hand with huge grins on their faces.

"You missed such a great view, Joel," Maria said, then looked around the boardwalk, asking where he thought you and Charlie went.

"Back to the house," was all Joel said before gruffly standing up and lighting another cigarette to help with the burst of adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

Joel managed to calm down by the time the three of them arrived back at the house. He replayed what he had said and done over and over and just hoped that you didn't hold it against him. It didn't seem like you were pissed with him when you left but he knew his actions just made the next day incredibly awkward, so Joel decided once he saw Charlie in the morning, he would apologize.

When he walked by your closed bedroom door, it was quiet with the exception of the water running in the bathroom. He slipped into his own bedroom down the hall, then turned on the TV and fell asleep.

He slept in a little later than he intended but he had a hunch he wasn't the only one. It seemed like everyone had a little too much to drink the night before and from the sound of the plates and silverware clinking together in the kitchen below, everyone was getting a slow start to the day.

"Mornin'," Joel mumbled to Tommy, who was sitting at the table, rubbing his eyes over a steaming cup of coffee. He glanced up and nodded in return before bringing the mug to his lips and taking a sip.

"Need help with anythin'?" Joel asked Maria who was busy cracking eggs. She laughed and shook her head.

"Go sit down. You look like you feel about as shitty as your brother."

Joel didn't need to be told twice. He sat down next to Tommy with a grunt, his hands curling around his own cup of coffee, blankly staring down at it, hoping it would bring him back to life.

"Hey," Tommy whispered, eyeing Maria from across the room who was busy gathering things from the fridge. Joel leaned forward and arched an eyebrow. "Charlie left real early this mornin'. I heard a car door slam and noticed his car's gone when we got downstairs."

"Shit," Joel muttered, glancing over at Maria quickly, making sure she didn't notice them gossiping about her best friend.

"Think they got in a fight or somethin'?" Tommy asked, but right as Joel opened his mouth to tell him the details of what happened the night before, Maria bounced over to them with a plate in each hand.

"I'm gonna go wake them up," she said, turning on her heel. Joel gave Tommy a curious look and he just shrugged.

"Didn't tell her," was all he said, then rolled his wrist in the air. "Tell me before they come down."

Joel managed to give Tommy the bullet points then began quickly shoveling eggs into his mouth when they heard Maria descending the steps. She entered the kitchen with her hands on her hips, looking concerned.

"What's up, baby?" Tommy asked innocently. She swiveled her finger around in the air as the gears turned in her head.

"Charlie left."

They both did a good job of acting surprised as Maria sat down with her own plate of food and with a hushed voice, told them you were upset and didn't want to come down for breakfast.

"Did they break up?" Joel asked, realizing too late that he sounded a little too eager, but Maria didn't seem to pick up on it. She was biting her nail, worried about you and trying to figure out how to navigate the rest of the day.

"I think so."

Conflicted was the only word to describe what Joel felt in that moment. He really didn't like Charlie but he hated the idea that he could be partially responsible for your pain.

After they finished eating, Maria checked the time and tapped her foot. "I think I should cancel the zip-line, Tommy," she said, "I don't want to leave her here all alone." Maria had planned for her, Tommy and Joel to zip-line over the beach, overlooking the lake. Knowing your fear of heights, she had intentionally picked that day, expecting you and Charlie to spend some alone time together.

"I'll stay, you two go," Joel said immediately, picking up their plates and heading to the sink.

"Are you sure?" Tommy asked, and Joel nodded.

"I'm not exactly in the best shape to be flying through the air, anyway."

"And I am?" Tommy replied, but Maria shoved his shoulder and put her finger to her lips behind Joel's back while he scrubbed the plates. "Uh, yeah, thanks Joel. You let us know if you end up goin' out and we'll meet up."

Joel stayed downstairs, alternating between going on his phone or watching TV. When it got closer to noon and you still hadn't come down, he began to worry. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple water bottles. Putting them on the counter, he scoured the fridge and scratched his chin. He was always a terrible cook, so he gave up quickly and resorted to ordering a couple burgers for delivery before taking the waters upstairs.

He rapped two knuckles gently on the door, then heard some shuffling before your voice called out, inviting him in.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said sympathetically when he saw your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. You sat up in bed and tried to run your fingers through your tangled hair before sighing and giving up.

"Leave it to me to get dumped on vacation."

He gave you a sad smile and held out a bottle of water, which you eagerly accepted. He sat down on the edge of your bed and watched as you drained almost the entire bottle, then handed you his. You thanked him and set both on the end table before turning your attention back on your television, which he hadn't even realized was on.

"Legally Blonde?"

"I wanted to laugh but I forgot she gets dumped in, like, the first twenty minutes."

Joel chuckled and leaned back against your headboard. "I'm so sorry. If it was 'bout last night-"

"It's not your fault," you sniffled, pulling the comforter up to your chin.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not yet."

He hummed and nodded, turning back to the television. He gave you all the time and space you needed, staying close by for the rest of the afternoon in case you wanted to talk, only leaving to get the burgers when they arrived. You ate them in your bed, grease dripping from your fingers and laughing at stupid movies until you felt good enough to get up and shower.

"You wanna go mini golfing?" you asked over your shoulder as you fixed your hair in the mirror. Joel cringed but agreed. He absolutely hated golfing, but for you, he would suffer through it. Especially considering your mood seemed to be improving.

"Lemme text Tommy and let 'em know where we're goin'," he said, pulling out his phone and following you out the door.

"Oh, let's just do our own thing tonight," you said, then cleared your throat when you realized how that sounded. "I mean, y'know, they probably want time to themselves, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Joel agreed, side eying you before hopping into the truck. You gave him directions to a mini golf course ten minutes away, then rolled down the window and stretched your arm out, the warm summer air slipping through your wiggling fingers. Even though the sun had set, the air was still so thick with heat it felt like you could grab it.

"It's so hot," you said, sliding out of the passenger seat once Joel parked the truck. You fixed your skirt; a flowy, white number that felt feather light against your thighs as you walked. Joel agreed and checked his phone, noticing a text from Tommy.

"Hold up," he said, and you twisted around, your tennis shoes crunching on the gravel parking lot.

We're gonna go to that Mexican place. 30 minutes.

"They're invitin' us to dinner," he told you without looking up.

"Tell him we already ate."

He nodded and tapped out a quick reply before pocketing the phone and approached the cashier.

"Two tonight?" she asked, smacking her gum between her teeth.

"Yes, but I'll pay for mine," you said, reaching for your wallet.

"Nuh-uh," Joel said with a frown, about to argue but the cashier spoke up first.

"It's date night. Two for the price of one."

Your cheeks felt hot at the insinuation that you were on a date with Joel, but you couldn't pass up the deal to play for half price. Glancing at him awkwardly, you shrugged and he slapped his card down with a cocky smirk.

"Alright, pick out your ball, but for the love of god don't pick the-"

"Oh, look at the hot pink one!" you exclaimed gleefully, snatching it up from the bucket. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. "What?" you giggled, shouldering him playfully as you admired your ball.

"It's just such a girl thing to do," he said with a grin, then leaned over to pick a neon yellow ball for himself.

"Well last I checked, I am a girl," you winked and headed towards the door, his gaze falling to your ass only once before getting himself together and following you.

"Shoulda known," he tsked once he caught up, "matches your bathing suit and everythin'."

Your stomach flipped and you felt your cheeks grow hot once again but you just laughed him off and approached the first hole. The course was packed with couples, no doubt taking advantage of the deal, so it was slow going. By the fifth hole, Joel grew impatient and plopped down on a bench.

"Giving up so soon?" you teased, and he huffed.

"I ain't a quitter, just waitin' for some of these people to play through. Sick of standin' around."

"You sure it's not because I'm beating you by six?" you grinned as you sat down next to him.

"I'm lettin' you win, darlin'. Tryin' to mend your poor, broken heart," he said, rolling his head to the side with a smirk.

"Eh, I don't think we were together long enough to say he broke my heart, but it still sucks," you sighed, playing with your golf ball in the palm of your hand.

Joel eyed you for a moment, trying to choose his next words carefully. "You ready to talk 'bout it, or-"

"I thought he was nice, y'know? Like, okay, he could be a little pushy sometimes, but I really thought he was just encouraging me to get out of my comfort zone."

Joel frowned and shifted his weight on the bench. "What'dya mean?"

"Like, professionally. He was encouraging me to go back to school so I could get a better job, but I like my job. And other things, too. The ferris wheel," you said, rolling your eyes, "told me I should face my fears and all that."

"You're better off without him," Joel said without even thinking. You laughed and glanced up at him through your lashes.

"You think?"

"'Course. You don't need someone to tell you how to live your life. If you like your job, then why change it? If you're afraid of heights, who cares? Seemed to me like he was tryin' to fix you, and from where I'm sittin', you're-" he cut himself off and looked down at his hands, chewing on the inside of his lip to keep himself from finishing his sentence.

You stared at him for a moment, watching something flicker across his face. "I'm... what?" you asked gently.

He shrugged and took a deep breath. You're perfect, he wanted to say, but instead he went with "you don't need fixin'."

You smiled shyly and poked him in the ribs, making him chuckle.

"Thank you, Joel. You managed to save me from wasting the last day of vacation moping around in bed."

He let you drag him up from the bench so you could continue playing the course, but your conversation kept replaying in his head, distracting him. Even though you weren't a fan of his job, you never once pressured him to find a different one. You accepted him for who he was and it bothered him that Charlie couldn't do the same for you.

Joel watched you with a smile as you bent your head and lined up your putter with your golf ball. A little crease formed between your eyebrows as you focused on the windmill eclipsing the sixth hole, trying to time it just right. How could anybody want to change you? You were so adorable and sweet and you deserved someone who would worship the ground you walked on.

A foolish thought popped into his head and he opened his mouth, about to ask you a question that could possibly change everything.

"What if-"

He cut himself off when you tapped the ball down the turf, both of you watching and holding your breath when your hot pink golf ball managed to avoid the blades of the windmill and dropped into the little plastic cup with a soft clink.

"Holy shit!" you exclaimed, garnering a few odd looks in your direction, but neither of you cared. You dropped your golf club and jumped into his waiting arms, letting Joel spin you around as you both laughed and he told you what a great job you did, deciding it was best he never finished his question, anyway.

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 7 months

Text

Angel Face, Devil Thoughts

Summary: The first time Rafe Cameron saw you, he knew he had to have you. Whatever it takes. Wk: 6.8K

•This is a collaboration with @babygorewhore🖤 I had so much fun working on this with you baby, I love you so much!!!•

Warnings: Possesive!Rafe, obsessive behaviors (Rafe and reader), kidnapping, drugging, kinda clueless reader (or is she…?), daddy kink, borderline stalker behavior, spanking, hair pulling, jealous!Rafe, bondage, age gap (Rafe is 35 reader is 26), spit kink, oral, unprotected sex. Dark fic, 18+MNDI!! (Divider by me)

Rafe Cameron’s legs turned as he swung the golf club, perfectly hitting the ball as it landed near the hole in the ground yards ahead. He smirked to himself. Topper clapped a hand on his shoulder. His grip firm and Rafe cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know how you do it. I’ve never beaten you.”

Rafe shrugged. “No one can,” He chuckled and scanned the scenery of the yards ahead of him.

It was a beautiful day. It wasn’t too hot and he was able to wear nicer clothing than he usually did for golf. A simple button down shirt and comfortable pants allowed him to easily pick up his bag of clubs and make his way to the small section of the park where food and drink was served. By Pogues and the middle class.

But he wasn’t as involved in the war between kooks and pogues. At 35, he truly had better things to do. Run the empire and look after Wheezie who was a young teenager now. After Wards death, his sisters random marriage, his own growth over the years, Rafe just wanted to make money, fuck, and…make more money.

But then his eyes widened and he almost stopped short when he saw you. And his entire world came to a halt.

You were wearing a simple outfit, a little black tennis skirt and a polo tee that bore the logo of the franchise representing the park. Your hair was out of your face, you were wearing makeup and you were currently talking to Wheezie, who giggled and blushed at a young boy across from you both. Rafe’s footsteps slowed but he continued your way. He was close enough to hear the conversation.

“I think he’s really cute. But I don’t know how to approach him.” Wheezie complained and he wanted to roll his eyes over her thirtieth crush of the week when you smiled at her. And he melted inside.

“That’s okay. All you have to do is wave and smile. Men are easy.” You winked at her and he swallowed thickly.

You were so beautiful. Delicate. Angelic. Perfect. You radiated kindness and a youthful spark that he hadn’t exposed himself to in a long time. He was probably about ten years your senior but he didn’t give a shit. When he saw Wheezie walk away from you and your adorable smile continued to grow, that's when he decided.

You were his.

He cleared his throat and prepared to further approach you after abandoning Topper. He had no issue with shyness or other bullshit younger men dealt with but something about you made him hesitate. Why were you working? Someone as perfect as you deserved to be treated gently, like a princess. You needed to be kept.

Rafe could do that. Easily.

As he walked to you, your pretty doe eyes looked up at him, and a smirk so faint crossed your face that he almost missed it.

“Haven’t seen you before. Sorry if my little sister annoyed you. But I have a soft spot for her.” Rafe didn’t bother with introducing himself. You’d be screaming his name soon enough.

“Hi,” when you gave him your name, he almost got chills. Even your name was perfect. You were an angel. The way your feet rolled, trying to shorten the distance between you both was adorable. “She was cute! I remember my first crush.” You twirl your hair and Rafe gave you a hum of approval.

“What’s a pretty little girl like yourself doing working here? With looks like that, I figured you’d be a model.” Rafe complimented and instead of becoming shy, you batted your eyelashes and grinned.

“I’m thinking about it.” You glanced back at the bar cart, “but I have to get back to work. It was nice to meet you finally, Rafey.” The nickname made his lips quirk in a sadistic smile. A nickname already? One he never allowed others to use.

But you weren’t anyone.

You were his little bunny.

Rafe stayed longer than usual, watching you from a distance and leering at the way your skirt hugged your ass and hips. You were a little clumsy but he enjoyed that. He knew you’d have to rely on him for everything. You needed him.

When you clocked out, Rafe was horrified to see you start to walk down the road. You didn’t have a car. And that made him feel rage. How could someone allow you to walk home alone? He certainly wouldn’t. Not his pretty kitty.

Rafe marched forward, catching up with you before his hand gently touched your arm. “Pretty girls shouldn’t have to walk home. Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”

He expected you to deny it but then you grinned and nodded rapidly.

“Yes! That sounds great!”

This would be too easy. But he was worried. What if a bad man got a hold of you? How would he live with himself if something happened to you? He’d never let it go. No. His darling little girl would never get hurt.

“Come on. My car is this way.”

Rafe lagged behind you ever so slightly, despite his legs being much longer than yours. He couldn’t resist getting another peak of your ass in that little uniform. He also couldn’t resist when you stumbled as he was helping you into the passenger seat and one of his hands landed on the skin of your ass just under your skirt. He had to hold back a chuckle at the sight of you displaying yet another act of clumsiness. You were so helpless, fragile, too good for this world. He had to protect you from anyone who tried to hurt you, even yourself.

“Alright, Angel face, where am I headed?” Rafe buckles himself in, one of his long fingers hitting the push to start on his fancy sports car. He glances over at you, noticing that you haven’t buckled yourself up yet. He lightly shakes his head before leaning over the center console to buckle your belt for you.

“Oh, thank you, Rafey.” You run your fingers down his forearm, batting your lashes at him again. He takes note of your chipped nail polish, he’ll have to remedy that immediately. He’s definitely going to be calling the nicest salon on the island first thing tomorrow. Get you the full treatment, hair, nails, massage, whatever you want. “It’s on figure 8, I’m actually staying three houses down from you, I think. It’s my grandparents old house.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about their passing. I’m sorry about that, doll.” He smiles at you softly, earning the cutest little grin in return. “Is that what you’re doing here? You inherit their house or something?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. They left it to my mom but she doesn’t have any interest in living here so her and dad are selling it. We came here to go through all their stuff and get it ready to put on the market.”

“What about you? You like it here?” You cross your legs, and Rafe can see how deliciously your thighs squish together out of the corner of his eye. He stifled a groan at the sight.

“Yeah, it’s nice. It’s a lot different from my hometown but it’s really pretty here. And I make better money than I did at my waitressing job back home.” Your voice is so cute, Rafe wants to drown in it.

“If your moms parents left her all that money, how come you’re working?” He takes a chance to look over at you at a red light, eyes roaming your form, committing as much as he could to memory.

“They are still dealing with all the legal stuff, and I don’t really know if they’ll even give me any. I don’t think they trust me with it. I haven’t always made the best life choices.” You sigh, a frown spreading across your lips, a crease in your brow. Rafe hates it, how dare they upset you? How dare they not help you? If you aren’t great with making choices, he doesn’t mind making them for you.

“Ah, makes sense. But a pretty girl like you? You deserve everything you could ever want. Waited on hand and foot.”

“That’s so sweet, thank you, Rafe. But I’ve always worked for what I want, ya know? I don’t really mind it.” You shrug your shoulders, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Well, I think you deserve better than that, s’all im saying. I’m gonna set up a spa day for you, alright? What are your days off?” This is a win, win for him. He can spoil you a little and figure out your work schedule.

“Oh! You don’t have to do th-“

“Angel, I don’t have to do anything, but I’d really like to do this for you. Let me.” It comes out like more of a command than a request and he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches in your throat at his tone.

“Alright, if you insist. I work Tuesday to Saturday every week. So I have tomorrow off, since today is Saturday.” You smile at him, and he thinks it’s adorable how proud you seem to be stating simple facts. You seemed like a bit of an air head but Rafe didn’t mind, he liked that, it would be easier to guide you.

“Okay, I’m gonna call and make you an appointment for tomorrow.” He pulls into the driveway of your grandparents home and takes his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Put your number in here and I’ll text you the details.”

Your smile is wide and he feels like he can practically see a sparkle in your eyes. He wants to give you the fucking world. You add your number to his phone, putting yourself in as “Angel Face” with a little bunny next to it. You give him his phone back and he smirks down at it, you were almost in too cute to bare.

“Well, thank you so much for the ride, and for tomorrow too! You’ve been so kind to me and you hardly even know me, I wish I could repay you somehow.” A little pout forms on your lips as you look up at him through those god damned lashes.

“I’m sure we can figure something out, Angel face. For now, be a good girl for me and get inside safely. Make sure you lock the door behind you. I’ll text you soon about your little spa day.” He smirks at you, resting his hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze. The cutest little squeak leaves your lips and he can’t wait to hear what you sound like when you moan his name. “Also, no more walking home, alright? I’m usually done with my work shit by the time the club closes so I’ll pick you up from now on.”

You look like you’re about to protest, but it’s almost like you think better of it. Instead you give him one of those sweet smiles.

“Sounds good, thank you again, I’ll make sure I’m a real good girl for you. Get lots of rest for my big day tomorrow. Good night Rafey.”

“Night, Angel.” You pat his hand before grabbing your purse and exiting his car. He swears you bent over a little extra to give him a flash of your little black panties, but he’s not complaining. As long as he’s the only man you’re doing that for. He’s totally and utterly addicted to you already, and he won’t stop until he owns you completely. Rafe quickly calls the salon owner's private number, knowing they’re probably closed by now. He offers her however much it takes to get you in the next day before typing out a text to you.

Your appointment is at 12:30 tomorrow, I think baby pink stiletto nails would compliment you well. I'll pick you up at noon, don’t be late. Sweet dreams, bunny.

Rafe eagerly pulls into the salon parking lot the next day. He picked you up at noon on the dot, you came bouncing down the driveway with a bright smile on your face. He must say seeing you out of your work clothes was a spiritual experience for him. You were wearing this little black mini skirt, and a little light pink tank top. You had on the most impractical shoes for a place like this, big, chunky, studded platform Mary Jane’s, with little white ruffle socks. The thing that really did him in though? The black o-ring choker around your neck. It was all so contradictory, the pink, the studs, the little socks. He’s never seen a girl like you in all his years. He needs you so badly.

Last night felt like one of the longest nights of his life, he never thought he could miss someone he just met so much. But he was up nearly all night, his thoughts riddled with you. Your thighs, the way your tits looked in that little work polo, the way your ass would bounce when he fucked you from behind. Rafe has never jerked off so much in one night. Not even when he was younger. All he can think about is filling you up, spoiling you, maybe putting a few babies in you once he’s gotten his fill of alone time with you. He walks into the salon with a pep in his step, his eyes scanning the room for your beautiful face.

His features immediately harden when he spots you though. You’re sitting pretty in one of the plush pedicure chairs your feet propped up while a man paints your dainty little toe nails. His nostrils flare, anger surging through him at the sight of another man’s hands on his angel. His expensive loafers thud against the ground as he stomps towards you.

“Rafe, hi! You’re early! But this is the last thing, so you shouldn’t have to wait for long.” You give him that saccharine smile, completely oblivious to his internal meltdown.

“Hi angel.” He smiles at you, but he doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You about done with my girl here?”

He looks down at the man as he coats the polish on your toenails, wanting nothing more than to cut his fingers off one by one for even thinking he’s worthy of touching you. Let alone doing it. He doesn’t give a shit if he’s paying.

“Yeah, this is the last step then I’ll have her out of here.” The guy smiles at him before returning to his task.

“I didn’t know dudes worked at places like this.” Rafe scoffs.

“Rafe! That’s kind of a rude thing to say… Everyone here has been so helpful and kind! I’ve had a great day!” Your lips form into a pout, your brows furrowed. The last thing he wants to do is upset you, or scare you off. He needs you to trust him. Plus he’s not the same hot headed guy he used to be, he’s a man now. He can keep this to himself.

“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry. Thanks for treating her right, man.” Rafe forces the most polite smile he can muster in his direction.

“No problem, just doing my job.” He taps his fingers against the polish, making sure it’s dry. “Which I’m all done with, you’re free to go ma’am. You can pay up front.”

“Thank you so much!! They look perfect!!” You wiggle your toes, your hands clapping together excitedly. You’re so cute Rafe hardly remembers why he was mad, hardly. He still wants to singe that guy’s finger tips off. “You like them?”

“Yeah bunny, those are gorgeous.” Rafe smirks, pleased to see the baby pink polish on not just your fingers but your toes too. You even went with the shape he suggested. You’re such a good girl already.

He walks you to the counter, using his black card to pay for everything. He even leaves a generous tip, despite how much he’s still simmering with jealousy over that man touching you. He wanted to make a good impression on you, he needs you to see how perfect he is for you.

“Lemme see you, pretty girl.” Rafe offers you his hand so he can spin you around, a low whistle escaping his lips as you twirl. “Gorgeous.”

“Oh my god, thank you! I really had such a great day. I got a massage. Then they did highlights and a blow out on my hair. And of course I got these pretty nails!!” You giggle, holding your hands out to him to give him a closer look.

“Very pretty, bunny. The little bows are a nice touch. I knew that color would be perfect for you. You ready to go?”

“Yup! All set.”

Rafe leads you out to his car, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt just like he has the last two times you've been in it. He drives towards your grandparents house with an almost uneasy feeling. He doesn’t want to let you go yet. Or ever. He left you alone for a few hours and regardless if it was his job or not another man had his hands all over you. He didn’t like it. You were too precious to be going around without him. You needed him just as much as he needed you.

When he pulls up to your house you thank him over and over again, telling him no one has ever done anything this nice for you before. How could they not have? You deserve a thousand times more than just this, and he’s going to give it to you. You lean over and leave a sticky lipgloss kiss on his cheek. His heart feels like it’s nearly going to burst out of his chest and he has to clench his fists to stop himself from reaching out and kissing you like his life depends on it. You make sure to bend over again when you get out of his car, and it just drives him even more crazy. He was going to make you his, by any means necessary.

Rafe carefully selected another item into the cart as he walked down the aisle at the store. The aisles were nearly empty since he picked the perfect time to arrive and buy things for his little girl. His shopping was usually done by someone who worked for him but how could he allow anyone to touch things that were yours? Only he could give you these things. His little angel wouldn’t ever have to worry about anyone ever again.

In the cart were stuffed animals, blankets, decorations and even coloring books. He had already assembled the basics in the bedroom he specifically designed for you two days later after he had been driving you home. The room would be ready tonight.

His caretaker nature allowed him to easily pick up on things you liked. Soft, sweet and gentle natured you. His baby girl.

As he returned to his home with several bags, he didn’t allow anyone to put things away. The room was a soft pink color. Completely removed of any objects that could cause you harm. Stuffed animals, a tv set, a computer that would be monitored, and a soft bed with fluffed pillows. Rafe stood straight and admired his work. Yes. This was perfect for a sweet girl like you. Everything about this plan would go perfectly. His little bimbo would fall for his trap and he didn’t have a moment of doubt or guilt. Why would he? You needed him. And he wouldn’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.

Like clockwork, Rafe heard the doorbell ring and he knew it was Barry. Here to accomplish his part of the task at hand. Rafe opened his front door after begrudgingly leaving your bedroom and Barry leaned against the frame.

“Sup, country club.” He dangled a bag full of small pills. “Got the dough. You have my money?”

Rafe handed over the wad of cash and accepted the plastic bag. “This better be the real fucking thing or I’ll kill you.” He warned and Barry smirked.

“Yeah, yeah I’m so scared of you big boy. Pretty fucked up though. What you’re planning to do with that chick. But it’s safe I guess. Not gonna hurt her.”

“That’s all I need to know.” Rafe pressed the bag against his chest and Barry crossed his arms.

“Ain’t ever seen you like this, bro. When you gonna get her?”

“Tonight. When she’s on her way home. Pretty little bunny doesn’t have a car. She’s making this easy for me.” Rafe chuckled.

“Aight, I don’t need to know anymore.” Barry held his hands up and walked away towards his bike. “Careful, Rafe. Sounds like you’ve really fallen for her.”

Rafe nodded and a twinge of emotion made him feel warm. He swore to himself he’d never fall in love. And now look at him. Planning on taking this poor girl but he was doing her a favor. She was his and his alone. He would protect her. Even if it was against her will. Even if it meant forcing her.

Later, Rafe was in his car waiting to pick you up with your favorite drink. A milkshake. His trembling hands gripped the steering wheel as the minutes went by on his digital clock.

You will be coming out soon. All his. His precious baby. Rafe craned his neck and finally saw you walking towards his car. His body tensed and his cock twitched with adrenaline as you smiled when you saw him. Twirling your braids, you waved at him while approaching the car with a half slip.

“Hi, Rafey! You’re right on time!” You said as you happily slid into the car.

Rafe nodded. “Of course I am, baby. I’m a man of my word. Here, I got you something, Angel.” He handed you the milkshake, his fingers twitching as you grinned and immediately wrapped your lips around the straw. You moaned at the taste and his mouth watered at your pretty sounds.

You fell for it.

Rafe inhaled slowly as he started driving, but not in the direction of your home. It didn’t matter anyway, you were drinking too eagerly to really notice.

“It’s a pretty day, Rafe! Almost as pretty as you are!” You giggled and Rafe reached over, placing a hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze.

“Thank you, bunny. You’re such a sweet girl you know that? My sweet girl.” He muttered the last part and he noticed your movements were growing slower.

You blinked, your doe eyes becoming unfocused. The Valium was taking effect and he smirked with satisfaction. God, you were such a little bimbo slut.

“Rafey…I feel so tired…” you yawned and he traced his ringed fingers along your skin where your skirt had rode up.

“Go to sleep, baby. You’ll be all nice and safe when you wake up.” Rafe trembled as you slumped over, your mouth parting as you drifted to a deep sleep.

That’s it. That’s my fucking girl. So obedient.

Your body feels weighed down, you try to open your eyes but it feels like someone put bags of sand on top of them. The last thing you remember is falling asleep in Rafe’s car, but what you’re laying on right now is definitely not a car seat. It feels like the most plush mattress you’ve ever laid on, even softer than the one in your grandparents guest room. Your head feels like it’s resting on a cloud, and the air smells nice. Like vanilla and strawberries.

After a few minutes of struggling you finally force your eyes to open slightly. There’s a soft warm light illuminating the room, and what looks like a sheer pink canopy on the ceiling above you. Your body still feels heavy but you’re able to move your hands now, spreading your fingers and running your palms across a silky soft blanket. You turn your head to the side and your eyes land on a pink wall with the prettiest vanity you’ve ever seen pushed up against it. You weave your head the other way, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. Up against the opposite wall there’s a rack filled with clothes and from what you can tell it’s all things you’d wear.

You try to push yourself up on your palms, now extremely aware of how dry your mouth is, how thirsty you are. But your body still feels too weak. You let out a little groan and lull your head back against the soft pillow.

“Hey, hey, don’t try to move, Angel. I’ve got you.”

“Rafe?” Your voice comes out a cracked whisper, you can’t see him, but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s him.

“Yeah bunny, it’s me, daddy’s here.” The self proclaimed title sends a shiver down your spine.

“Daddy? What’s going on? Where am I?” You’re about to try to push yourself up again when Rafe comes into view. He’s towering over you, looking down at you with what only could be described as adoration.

“You’re home.” His large hand reaches out to cup your jaw, the pad of his thumb running over the apple of your cheek.

“Home? This isn’t my grandparents' house - I - I’m so thirsty.” You nuzzle into his palm almost subconsciously. You’ve spent so many nights now dreaming about his touch, more than just the brief thigh touches or a hand on your shoulder. It felt so nice.

“Shh shh, baby it’s okay. Don’t overwhelm yourself. Here, I’ll help you sit up, I have some water here.” His snakes one arm underneath your head and the other behind your knees, hoisting you up against the headboard with ease. Now that you’re sitting up you have a better view of the room. It’s beautiful. Something out of your wildest dreams.

“Where - where are we?” You ask with wide eyes, your voice filled with borderline awe.

“I told you Angel, we’re home. This is for you. I did this all for you.” He takes the cap off the water bottle sitting on the nightstand and holds it up to your lips. You eagerly chug it down, the cool liquid calming the burn in your throat.

“For me? Rafe? How did I get here? Did you change my clothes?” Now that you’re feeling more aware you realize you’re no longer wearing your work uniform. Instead you’re wearing a little silk nighty with white lace embellishments. It’s soft and comfortable and honestly gorgeous.

“Bunny… I need you to listen to me, alright?” He discards the water bottle so he can sit on the bed next to you, his hand returning to your face. You nod against his palm, looking up at him with big wide eyes. “Use your words.”

“I’m listening, Rafey.”

“Call me daddy when I’m talking to you like this, alright baby?”

“Okay, daddy.”

“I - fuck - I did what I had to do alright? I did what’s best for you. You’re too fragile, too precious for this world. That first day I saw you working at the club, I knew I needed you. Knew you needed me.” You try to hold in your smirk, you really do. But you were already starting to crack as it was, and this? This isn’t something you would’ve expected.

“Oh I know, daddy, I see the way you look at me… you didn’t answer my question though. How did I get here, huh? Did you slip something in that milkshake? Knock me out? Strip me down and get a good look at my little body?” You look at him with a Cheshire smile, and a gleam in your eye he’s never seen.

“Hey, I didn’t fuckin’ do any weird shit if that’s what you’re thinking, I want you fully aware of your surroundings the first time I have you. That is until I fuck you so good you forget everything but my name…”

“So kidnapping and drugging me isn’t considered weird? Got it.” You let out a breathy chuckle. “You know, I knew you wanted me, but I didn’t think you’d go this far. I have to say, daddy, it’s kind of hot.”

“The fuck you mean you knew?” His brows furrow, his nostrils slightly flare and you can tell you hit a nerve. But you just couldn’t keep up this clueless girl act anymore, not after he went to all these lengths just to get you. You needed him to know you wanted him just as bad.

“I mean, I’m not blind. You look at me like you want to put me in a cage and never let me go. You drive me home everyday. You offered to buy me new nails the first day you met me. Also, don’t think I didn’t notice how jealous you got when you saw that guy doing my pedicure. And guess what? The funny part is, you didn’t need the drugs to get me. I would’ve just let you take me.”

“You knew this entire time how badly I wanted you?” You nod and his hand reaches out to grip your jaw, rougher than before. “I told you to use your words, bunny.”

“Yes, I knew.” You smirk at him and he adjusts his grip so he’s pinching your cheeks.

“And you still continued to tease me like a little slut? Bend over and flash me your little panties every time you got out of my car? Always pushing those tits up against my arm and batting your lashes at me? Was that all some kind of act? You trynna scam me?” His hand migrates from your face to your throat, his thick fingers tightening against your esophagus deliciously.

“Daddy, no. It wasn’t an act at all. I want you so bad. Just wanted to see how far I could push you before you finally cracked. I have to say, you exceeded my expectations. I can’t believe you did all of this just for me. That’s so sexy.”

“Oh, so you’re just a little fuckin’ tease. That it?”

“I wasn’t teasing, you could’ve had me any time. You just got in your head that you had to carry out this elaborate scheme to keep me, when I’m already yours.” Rafe practically growls, he feels tricked, he feels frustrated that he risked hurting you with those drugs when you wanted him all along. But most of all? He’s so fucking horny.

“Well, I want you right fuckin’ now.” He uses his grip on your throat to push you onto your back and eases his body over top of yours.

Your breathing intensifies as you give him a small smirk. Of course you knew he wanted you. You may be a bimbo but you had common fucking sense. His blue eyes burned whenever he looked at you with a hunger that was impossible to deny. The material of his shirt rubbed against your bare skin, your slip riding up from his movements that left you pinned on the mattress under his mercy. His palm pressed against your throat felt heavenly, his fingers locked around the sides of your neck held you down posessively.

“You fucking slut. You liked it this the whole time. Liked playing with me. I’m gonna make you regret it.” Rafe flipped you over, grabbing your hips and yanking you up on your hands, your ass up in the air. Your pussy clenches around nothing before Rafe’s hand slaps your ass, hard enough to make you jolt forward as his other hand flies to your hair, holding you in place with a makeshift ponytail.

“Apologize to daddy. Say you’re sorry.” He growls and you want to be a brat and say no, but his fingers slide from your hair down, down, down to your entrance, sinking knuckle deep in your cunt. His two digits play inside you, curling in a come here motion and your slick welcomes him in further as his thumb brushes against your clit with a delicious pressure. “Mmm, wanna give you love, bunny, but you’ve been a bad girl.” He grunts and you whine with your face pressed against the bed.

“Sorry, daddy! I’m sorry I acted bad!” You shriek when he spanks you again, this time hard enough to leave a mark. He spanks you again, and again and again. Tears prick your eyes and you hear him shift as he releases you. You fall forward, crashing onto the blanket and you feel his hands take your ankles. He moves you around on your back, dragging you to the headboard.

“Dumb little kitty. Bet you’re so wet from this. Let’s see,” He gives you a predatory smile and shoves off his black tie. He pins your wrists down, using your weakness to his advantage as he loops it around your hands. He ties you to the headboard and his knee spreads your legs, making you feel the air on your damp panties.

Rafe breathes through his mouth in a taunting huff, “look at that. You’re such a little whore for me. Wet from me hurting you? Drugging you? God damn you’re so pathetic. I love it.”

As you jerk, trying to move you realize you’re completely trapped by him. Rafe looms over you, cupping your jaw. “Open your fucking mouth,” He hisses and you immediately obey. He spits inside, “swallow it. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” You shudder at his filthy words.

Rafe crawls down, sliding your panties down your legs. A groan escaping him at your sticky pussy on display for him as he spreads your knees.

“Mmmm, so good. You’re so worked up.” He situates himself on the bed, burying his mouth against you, his tongue lewdly licks at your clit like an ice cream cone. His heated lips suck at your center with loud moans as he grinds into the mattress.

Your hips buck, his nose continually brushing against the underside of your clit as he laps all around before thrusting his tongue inside your entrance, gathering every single ounce of precum he can get.

“Fuck, daddy. Feels so good, I needed this.” You barely manage and he chuckles.

“Desperate, huh? Needed daddy to fuck this tight little pussy? My little girl is such a good bunny.”

Your stomach tightens, a tightening coil in your belly growing the more he licks you up relentlessly. He rips away, whipping your juices from his chin. His cock inside his trousers looks painfully hard.

“I’m going to make you fucking scream.”

Rafe pushes himself up on his knees, easily ridding himself of his button up and then moving onto his slacks. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock, you knew he’d be big, but it’s even better than you imagined. All those nights trying to stifle the moans of his name so your parents didn’t hear you.

“Fuck daddy, your cock is so pretty.” You’re practically drooling. “Fuck my mouth.”

He finds himself questioning if you’re even real at this point. His little angel all tied up and laid out, practically begging him to use your pretty mouth. He straddles your face, the head of his heavy cock brushes against your lips and you flick your tongue out. You moan at the taste of the bead of precum that gathered at the tip.

“Fuckin’ look at you, gonna let me use this little mouth?” He taps his cock against your outstretched tongue a few times before using his free hand to grip onto your hair, pulling your head back. “Open wide, slut.”

You stick your tongue out as far as it can go and he glides his length across it. He thrusts slow a few times before shoving his cock down your throat, causing you to gag.

“Yeah, that’s right, fucking choke on it.” You close your lips around him, taking a deep breath through your nose as he begins to assault your throat with rough thrusts. His groans are almost animalistic as he uses you for his own pleasure. You moan around his cock, clenching your thighs together at the feeling of being at his mercy. “Mmm bunny, this mouth is so fucking good. But I bet that little pussy is ever better. She was practically begging for me to fill her. Is that what you want?”

He uses his grip on your hair to pull you off his cock, leaning back so he can look down at you with a condescending pout.

“Please daddy, want it so bad. Want your cock, want your cum. Fill me up.” His large hand grips your face, punching your cheeks together as he tilts your head from side to side.

“You’re such a good little bunny, begging for daddy’s cock like my own personal little slut. That’s all you’re gonna be from now on. Mine to fill, to use, to fuck, to spoil. You’re never going to have to think about a single thing ever again.” He expertly undoes the tie binding your wrists, gripping onto your hips and flipping you onto your stomach again.

“Yes daddy, that’s all I want, just want you. Wanna be your good girl. Want you to take care of me.” You whine into the sheets. “Please fuck me daddy, please don’t make me wait any-“

You’re cut off abruptly when he pulls your ass up into the air, lining his cock up with your entrance. He fills you up in one rough thrust, your slick walls practically sucking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s fucking into you at a brutal pace.

“Oh fuck yeah, this fucking pussy is even better than I imagined. You’re so fucking tight, never gonna stop fucking you baby. Gonna keep you full day and night.”

“Daddy daddy daddy, it feels so good. So good. You’re so big.” You let him take you, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over. You’re gripping the sheets so tight you’re scared your new nails are going to tear through them and drool is dripping down your chin and onto the fabric.

“Yeah, fucking take it, slut. Take this fucking dick.” He leans forward, his thick forearm snaking around your throat. He uses his grip on you to pull you up so your back is flush against his chest. You didn’t think anyone could ever be so deep inside of you, and the pressure on your throat makes your head light in the best way.

“Oh my god, daddy, I’m gonna cum.” His free hand finds your clit, and the minute he’s circling it your orgasm is crashing over you. You thrash in his hold, a pornographic moan ripping through you.

“Fuck yes angel, fucking cum for your daddy. Pussy is fucking squeezing me. Gonna make me cum. Look at me.” His hand leaves your clit, roughly gripping onto your jaw so he can pull your head to the side. It’s borderline painful the way your neck is craned so you can look up into his blue eyes. But when he smashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss you can’t bring yourself to care.

Rafe continues to fuck into you, his tongue invading your mouth, intertwining with yours. He pushes his hips flush against your ass as he reaches his high, filling you with ropes of his cum.

“That’s it, good fucking girl. You're so good for me.” He releases your throat, pulling out of you slowly, causing you to whine. He eases you onto your back, leaning over top of you to place a much more tender kiss than before on your lips. “Let me clean you up baby.”

He gets up, quickly wetting a washcloth in the ensuite bathroom. He rushes back to your side, running the warm cloth along your folds.

“Mmm thank you, daddy. That feels nice.” You hum.

“Yeah? Gotta take care of my angel, you’re my responsibility now. I’m going to do everything and anything you need.” He lays down next to you, pulling you into his side so you can rest your head on his chest. “I am sorry about the way I went about this. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat. The first day I saw you I knew I needed to have you. Knew you were meant for me.”

“I feel the same, daddy. All you had to do is ask. Although, I must admit, it was honestly pretty sexy this way. You might be observant but there’s still a lot you have to learn about me.” You happily nuzzle into his chest. You’ve never felt so safe before. “I love my room by the way, it’s perfect. Does this mean I don’t get to sleep with you though?” You pout.

“Of course you get to sleep with me, Angel. I just wanted you to have a space of your own here.” He runs his fingers through your hair, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “There’s going to be ground rules that I want you to follow, but we can go over those when you’re more clear headed. Wanna take a bath?”

“Yeah Rafey, a bath sounds nice.”

#rafe Cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe fic #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader #dark!Rafe Cameron x reader #Morgy🩸

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wileys-russo · 10 months

Note

we need a dj leah fic

i know nothing about dj-ing so this is all y'all get lmao hobbies II l.williamson

"lee? baby i'm home!" you called out, kicking off your shoes and shrugging off your jacket at the door. though when you received no response you frowned, walking further into your home.

"babe? leah?" you continued to call out, popping your head into the bedroom and the living room but finding no trace of the blonde. her car was in your driveway and unless you'd missed something you weren't aware of her having an event or plans tonight.

"oh here you are." you sighed in relief finally finding her in the kitchen. "baby?" you called out, dropping your bag on the counter. "lee?" you called again, the girl bopping her head focused on something else, headphones covering her ears.

you paused for a moment eyes falling to the sliver of her abs visible where her shirt had ridden up, waistband of her boxers poking out from her pants as her tanned and toned arms flexed while she messed about with whatever was in front of her.

"leah!" you yelled louder, smacking your hand on the counter a few times as your girlfriend finally glanced up, flinching a little in shock at the sight of you stood there. "hi gorgeous, didn't hear you come in." she pulled her headphones down to her ears with a smile.

"missed you." she attached to you right away with a soft smile, attacking your face with kisses before finally rewarding you with a real one, tugging you around the counter to where she previously stood.

"yeah no wonder you didn't hear me. what the hell is all this?" you frowned seeing her messing about with her laptop and some sort of board full of buttons. "dj pad." leah gave you a toothy grin, wrapping you in a hug, your head resting against her chest as you stared down at her latest hobby.

"oh leah." you sighed as she let you go, tenderly kissing the side of your head. "what?" she smiled, ducking down to kiss you properly, sending your head into a spin as her tongue swiped your bottom lip but you forced yourself to pull away.

"you always do this!" you pulled yourself up to sit on the counter beside her laptop. "do what!" leah frowned, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow sent your way.

"you invest in some sort of hobby, do it for a week or two and then it joins your graveyard of dead interests and you move onto something else. then the cycle repeats!" you shook your head knowingly.

"i do not!" leah scoffed in offence as you now raised an eyebrow at her, jumping down from the counter. "come with me my love, let's go on a little house tour." you smiled holding our your hand, leah pulling off her headphones with a roll of her eyes and leaving them by the dj pad as her slender fingers interlocked with yours.

"example one; the hoverboard." you gestured to the item sitting abandoned in the corner of the living room, untouched for years now. "babe everyone bought those during lock down!" leah defended as you hummed.

"example two; the indoor golf set." you kicked the box sat with her trainers. "i still use that." leah protested as you fixed her with a firm look. "you've used it like four times if you're lucky."

"example three; the knitting!" leah followed you into her study as you yanked open one of her desk drawers and pointed to the abandoned bundle of wool and needles. "excuse me? i made you a blanket and that blanket was made with love." leah scowled as you shut the drawer.

"a baby blanket maybe it was like four poorly finished squares lee it could cover my ankles if i'm lucky." you chuckled moving to the large wall to wall bookshelf as leah scoffed. "psychology!" you continued, waving to the five or six huge textbooks your girlfriend was yet to even touch let alone crack open.

"hey i could still read those, that doesn't count." "but will you? signs point to no." you sighed with a shake of your head, ignoring your girlfriends hand swatting at your bum with an unimpressed huff at your tone.

"the VR goggles?" "they gave me a headache!" "the drumming pads?" "okay those were an impulse buy." "gardening? the veggie patch?" "our garden is immaculate!" "yes it is, because i'm the one who looks after it and actually keeps it alive baby. the video camera?" "hey i made the cutest video with that last year, it isn't my fault i lost the charger."

"do i need to continue baby or are you seeing the pattern now?" you challenged with a smile, swinging leahs hand back and forth which was still linked with yours.

"okay maybe i can be a little bit impulsive. but life is too short not to enjoy simple pleasures babe, even just for a moment." using your interlocked hands she tugged your body into hers, hands cupping your cheeks as her thumb pulled down your bottom lip before it snapped back up with a small pop.

"did you learn that in one of your self help books?" you grinned right as she leaned in to kiss you, head flicking back to the bookshelf. "shut up, but i'm getting pretty good! come." with that she lead you out of the office and back to the kitchen.

"leah!" you laughed as she effortlessly picked you up by the waist and sat you back on the counter. "listen." she carefully slid her headphones over your ears, pecking your lips a few times and focusing back on the dj pad.

your lips curled into a smile as you adjusted her headphones, wincing a little as a loud beat sounded in your ears, and you tried not to laugh at how your girlfriends eyebrows furrowed together as she pushed and prodded at the different buttons.

"see? not too bad eh!" leah stopped after a few minutes and you tugged the headphones down. "wait that was it?" you frowned, leahs mouth dropping into a small o at your words. "that was like someone beat boxing without a sense of rhythm. babe that was so bad!" you laughed honestly, covering your smile with your hand.

"baby!" leah whined, smacking your leg and crossing her arms. "what? do you want me to lie?" you grinned as she pulled her headphones off you with a huff. "don't quit your day job for the ibiza circuit just yet sweets, you're no fred again." you continued to tease as you patted her shoulder.

"hey it's really hard okay! these stupid programs i downloaded are no help either." leah pouted with another huff. you held up a finger for her to wait, lifting your hips to pull your phone out of your back pocket.

"here baby, one more for your bookshelf." "how to dj for idiots and dummies."

"cheeky girl." leah tutted, slotting herself in between your legs as her hands slid up and down your legs which wrapped around her waist. "have you figured out your dj name yet?" you grinned, getting your words out in between the lingeringly soft kisses the taller blonde was leaving on your lips.

"no, got any suggestions?" leah chuckled, closing her eyes as your mouth pulled away from hers and focused on her neck, her hands gripping your hips and pulling your body closer into hers as you inhaled the intoxicating scent of her favorite perfume.

"i think dj hold the mayo williamson will do numbers in ticket sales." "oh really? think i might need a tour manager love." "aren't you lucky, you've got the best in the business right in front of you." "mmm i haven't done any gigs yet gorgeous, afraid i can't pay you." "oh don't you worry williamson, i think we can work some sort of arrangement out."

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso #woso blurbs #engwnt #leah williamson #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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misctf · 9 months

Text

Selection Day

“Mr. Wagner, this is an impressive application.” The man mused, “Graduated college last year with a 4.0 GPA in biology. I see you completed prep courses to become a physician.”

James Wagner nodded, “That would be ideal.”

His father promised he’d have nothing to worry about on Selection Day, which occurred during the month of one’s 23rd birthday. Judges reviewed your file: extracurriculars, criminal record, education, etc., to determine the perfect career for you- and give you all the tools to succeed.

“I see here your father is Senator Wagner and your mother is Dr. Wagner, both distinguished in their fields. Quite a tough election year though.”

“Dad isn’t too worried though. His campaign manager says he has a plan.” James leaned back in his chair, “Already planning the victory party.”

“You should celebrate too. I think you’ll be perf...” The judge’s phone rang, cutting him off, “Excuse me Mr. Wagner, I have to take this.”

The judge left James to himself. The young man sighed in relief, despite some growing anticipation. When his brother went through the process, they didn’t change too much. They enhanced his attractive features and gave him a greater sense of ambition- all fitting for his career in finance. But he was still his brother. James hoped for something similar. He knew his application would let him select from “tier A models” so he was feeling good. And afterwards, he and his dad would go golfing and get dinner down at the country club to celebrate.

“Mr. Wagner, come with me” The judge said as he returned to the room.

James nodded, “Uh by the way, I was hoping to go with a Tier A physician model...”

“No worries James, just follow me please.”

James followed closely entering a room filled with various pods. A knot formed in his stomach. This is where it would happen. He gulped and watched as the judge walked towards a pod and pressed some buttons. This was it. Calmly, James undid his button shirt, revealing his lean and tanned body. Years of track and caddying on the golf course gave him a nice tan and lean physique. As he finished undressing, his attention shifted to the pod as it whirred to life and opened.

“Here it goes.” He whispered.

The young man stepped into the pod and watched the door shut. A small window allowed him to see the outside world and he nodded at the judge, who frowned in return. And then it started. The mechanical hands that lay dormant suddenly came to life, scanning James’s body.

“Applicant: James Wagner.” A soothing mechanical voice stated, before rattling off demographics that James simply tuned out, “Model: Gym Staff, Front Desk, Tier D.”

“Wait what?” James called out, “Hey! I think somethings wrong.” He tried to convey, “That’s not...”

He barely had a moment to speak as a metallic substance wrapped around his legs. He cried out as it burned his skin. And slowly, his legs began to expand, filling with raw muscle. His slender calves popped with muscle, while his 10.5 inch feet expanded to size 13. He held back tears as his thighs expanded with firm muscle. And then, his lower extremities were freed.

“Holy fuck!” He shouted, as he wriggled his new toes, “Please, I think there’s been some kind of mistake!” The judge wasn’t paying attention anymore, just talking to someone on the phone.

Before he could continue, a saddle emerged from underneath him and wrapped around his ass and cock. A gentle warmth encompassed them, causing James to shudder. But as he focused on the sensation, more of the substance covered his chest and torso. Similar to his legs, he felt an intense warming sensation. And as the warmth intensified, he felt himself growing. He watched as a strong core and bounceable pecs formed from his once lean physique and groaned as his torso stretched, adding height. But it wasn’t just height. He was becoming wider as his back expanded with muscle. When the mold finally released him, he was left with a physique he could only dream of obtaining naturally. But this wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to be a hulking beast of a man.

“You need to...” James started to cough as a green haze entered the pod, “What... fuck... bro please...” He kept coughing, barely noticing his use of the word “bro” and his deepening voice, “Dude, this ain’t cool!”

He watched as his arms were encased. Biceps and triceps exploded from his lean arms, while his forearms grew with muscle. When his arms were released, he could gawk at them in awe.

“Dude, check it out, my guns are lookin' massive!” James’s eyes widened, “Dude, why do I sound all weird? Not stoked about it, man!” Try as he might, he couldn’t control the new bro lingo that left his mouth.

And before he could say another word, a mask wrapped around his face and neck. He cried as his face was remodeled. Simultaneously, personal details were added to his physique. Tattoos of some meaning to James were carved into his body. Meanwhile, he was sprayed with a different solution that caused hair to sprout from his abdomen and chest, eventually thickening and forming a dense treasure trail. His arms and legs were not spared, nor were his ass or dick. And with a mechanical screech, the mask finally left his face. His new eyes were dark, topped by thick dark eyebrows. His light brown hair replaced with darker brown. His clean shaven face now adorned with stubble. And his angular face just a bit rounder, with a pair of thick lips. The young man felt his new face and rubbed a hand across his hairy pecs.

“Seriously, dude? No way!” He grumbled, ““Dude, I'm not a bro, change me back, seriously!” James felt tears well up in his eyes. This wasn’t him, he didn’t sound like this. He still had his intelligence, but no one would take him seriously.

But his thoughts were interrupted as the his privates were freed. James’s eyes widened. His dick was never that big, nor did he have foreskin before. He watched in awe as it started expanding and he wrapped his hand around it.

“Whoa, bro, check out the size of that thing!” He started pumping his new cock, “Bro, this is epic! It feels so damn good!” A new mist filled the pod as he continued to jerk off, causing James to scrunch his nose, “Dude, it totally reeks in here, like a locker room or something.” From this point on, that smell would stick to him. He’d always smell like a dirty locker room.

However this did little to deter him as he jerked off. And as he did so, he felt a quick jab in his arm as the contents of a syringe were dumped into him.

“Dude, my head's all fuzzy right now, it's weird.” He moaned as his IQ plummeted and new knowledge filled his brain, “Heh, check this out, dude.” He moaned as he bounced his pecs, “Dude, wait, my brain's acting up. I'm, like, still smart, yeah?” James tried to remember facts that he once memorized but found nothing. His golf skills replaced by workout routines, his adherence to social norms evaporating, and his desire to present himself well replaced with a need to wear tank tops and gym shorts, “Whatever, bro, it doesn't matter. I've got this, and that's what counts.” He winked at his dick and continued to jerk himself off, moving his hand faster and faster, “Fuck yeah, dude!” He moaned as he came, covering himself in cum and falling to the ground. And there he sat, totally spent until the door to the pod opened.

“Hey James,” James looked up and grinned.

"Yo, what's up, campaign manager bro?"

The older man smiled and turned to the judge, “Very good job, James here is perfect. No one will think Selection Day is rigged if even Senator Wagner’s son isn’t safe.”

“Nah, bro, it's Jim, not James.” Jim chuckled, “Like ‘gym’, get it bro?”

“Here Jim, get cleaned up.” The judge said, throwing the man a towel.

After wiping the cum from his hairy abdomen and chest, he got dressed in a tank top and gym shorts. And as he walked through the building, he barely cared at the glances of disgust and the people holding their noses. Nor did he care for the judgmental stares as he scratched his balls and pits, completely oblivious to social norms. When he finally got outside, he smiled when he saw his father’s limo. He quickly walked over and jumped in with a grin.

“Who are you?” His father asked, scrunching his nose.

Jim grinned and pulled his dad in for a hug, “Yo, dad, it's me, Jim. What's good?"

Several months had passed since then and much changed for Jim. His father quickly disowned him, believing that James hadn’t been honest with the family if this was the outcome of Selection Day. Besides, appealing outcomes was a lengthy process and for Jim’s dad, there could be great political repercussions given his support for the process. So Jim would remain. His life on the golf course and dining in the country club just a memory.

But Jim didn’t mind as he entered his small studio apartment and tossed his gym bag to the ground. He walked over to the dirty mattress in the middle of his room and plopped down, scratching his pits and flipping through his phone.

“Bro, check it out! Dad crushed the election, fuck yeah!” He cheered with a grin. His grin only widened as he read the text from the cute blond guy from the gym.

Even if he couldn’t celebrate with his family that night, Jim was going to celebrate. And as he texted the guy his address, he could feel the monster in his pants start to grow.

#male tf #male transformation #mental change #personality tf #jock tf

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 month

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Celebrity Crush, Table for Two

Part 2 of Celebrity Crush

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: You go on a date with your celebrity crush after meeting him in uniform. 1.2k+ words of fluff!

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

A/N: Thanks for the idea @anonymousmuffinbear! I hope you enjoy this. Thanks for reading and all of your kind words!🤍

You sigh as you fall backward onto your couch. The past week has been busy and stressful, so you have had no time to relax. Now that you're caught up with work, you can finally catch up on everything you’ve wanted to do. Which, admittedly, isn’t much. With your remote, you scroll through your favorite streaming app to find something to watch. A new true crime documentary catches your eye, and you suddenly remember something. Tim Bradford gave you his number, and you haven’t done anything with it.

Before you can find his contact, your phone rings with a call from one of your friends. You love her but do not want to talk or hang out tonight.

“Hello,” you greet, despite every instinct telling you not to answer.

“Hey, girl! We’re going out for mini golf and dinner, are you in?” she asks.

“Not tonight. I’m exhausted, but I’ll try to join next time.”

“Okay, no worries. Get some rest! Oh, hey, how’s your celebrity crush?”

“Tim?”

“No, Rick Castle- yes! Tim!”

“I don’t know,” you admit, picking at your blanket. “I haven’t called him yet. I was about to text him.”

“Don’t text him, call him! You’ve already made that Greek god wait a week for you.”

“He’s probably busy.”

“Call him.”

You can’t argue again before she hangs up on you. As you find the right contact, you shake your head and click the button to text Tim. Tim is a cop, and you will not risk interrupting him in the middle of something important. So, you type out a quick message, hit send before you can overthink it, then set your phone aside and start the documentary about the Hillside Strangler.

“Should I have signed the text?” you ask aloud. You only wrote About that thanks over dinner…

As you wonder if Tim will know who it’s from, your phone buzzes with an incoming message. Tim’s name catches your attention, and you hold your breath as you read his text.

Tell me when and where.

To say you’re surprised would be an understatement, and you’ll never admit to anyone that you bounce up and down on your couch out of pure excitement as you tap out your reply. In a few minutes, you have a dinner set for tomorrow with your celebrity crush at one of LA’s many restaurants. As the narrator sets the scene for a vicious murder on the screen before you, you fall back on the couch with a smile because you have a date with your celebrity crush.

“What am I supposed to wear?” you grumble as you look through your closet. “Is this even a date? Or just a chance to thank him again?”

You’ve only seen Tim in his uniform, but you know he will look amazing no matter what he wears. On the bright side, he’ll one-up me even if he’s in a t-shirt and sweatpants, you think. You stop as you pull a hanger forward. The perfect outfit was right in front of you the whole time. It just took an hour of stressing to find it.

Soon after, you enter the restaurant and look around, impressed by the atmosphere. More impressive, however, is Tim Bradford smiling at you from beside the hostess stand. He walks toward you, proving that you are right. The man can’t look bad, but he knows how to dress.

“You look beautiful,” Tim says.

“You do, too,” you answer. “Or handsome? You’re both- I… Thanks for meeting me.”

“Are you ready?”

You nod, and Tim offers his arm. With your arm looped through his elbow, you follow him to the table with your eyes on his face the entire time. Tim smiles at you as he pulls your chair out for you, and his fingers trail over your arm as he steps away.

“So,” Tim begins as he sits across from you. “What’s it like being one of the only women in the world that gets to go out with your celebrity crush?”

“Well, the only thing he’s done is help me to my seat and prove that he eavesdropped,” you murmur, looking down at the napkin in your lap.

“If you wanted a nice date, you should’ve chosen a different celebrity crush. I don’t have the best track record,” Tim admits.

You sigh dramatically but smile as you ask, “How soon can you get Aaron Thorsen down here to take over for you?”

“If I sent him a picture of how perfect you look, very quickly.”

“Tim, no one is a great date. Me included,” you promise, offering your hand across the table. “Besides, I thought I was just here to say thank you again and talk about the cases in the documentary.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “But I’ll need something in return. If I tell you about the cases, you have to tell me about you.”

“Interesting case details for boring personal details? That’s a terrible deal for you.”

“Depends on where you stand.”

You shrug, but Tim takes your hand as a silent promise that he wants to hear about you and get to know you. This is a date, after all.

“You’ve been in three documentaries,” you begin, ignoring the menu and everything else around you. “Which of those cases was your favorite?”

“Morris Mackey,” Tim answers without hesitation.

“Because of Officer Thorsen?”

“Amongst other things. It was an interesting investigation.”

“I have to ask-“

“If seeing Jake Butler dead freaked me out?”

You pinch your brows and finish, “Is your Sergeant really that funny?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tim answers. “Grey is one of the best cops and best men I’ve ever met. Your turn. Why did you approach me in the store last week?”

“Are you kidding? I loved those documentaries, I wasn’t kidding. When else am I going to get the chance to meet someone from one of those?”

“I’m glad you texted,” Tim admits.

“I’m glad you gave me your number. You know, my friends thought my crush on you was weird until they saw you.”

“The Abercrombie model hot cop?” Tim asks with a knowing smile.

“Their words.”

“Are you ready to order?” your waiter asks.

“Oh, right,” Tim says, looking at the menu. “We’re going to need one more minute. Thank you.”

The waiter nods, and you wait until he walks away to laugh. Tim shakes his head as he raises the menu, and you decide right then that this is the best date you’ve ever been on.

“Thank you, Tim. I had a great time,” you say as Tim walks you to your car.

“I did too,” he replies.

Tim slows and uses your joined hands to pull you toward him. He looks down at your shirt, visible beneath your sweater, and notices it’s the one he gave you from the store.

“Do you think I’m the kind of celebrity crush that can get a second date?” he asks.

You hum as you step closer to him. Slowly, you tilt your chin up and give Tim time to step back. He doesn’t, opting to meet you halfway. When your lips brush against Tim's, he has all the answers he needs. This is not going to be your last date. You raise your hand to his jaw, gently sliding your fingers against his skin before you move back, your other hand still in Tim’s.

Tim opens his eyes slowly as he asks, “Does this mean I have to watch true crime with you?”

You smile and laugh, squeezing Tim’s hand. “Oh, yeah. Who else can tell me how accurate everything is?”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #fem!reader #hanna writes✯#the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you

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allbark-no-bite · 2 years

Text

Maniac || Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: she’s dancing in the kitchen while Rafe’s falling in love

word count: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ smut

author’s note: inspired loosely by Macklemore’s ‘Maniac’

He's laughing now, low and attractive, his pearly teeth on display. His crossed arms bounce against his chest as it rumbles. From the radio sat on the counter, music bounces through the expanse of the kitchen.

"I am not dancing with you."

"C'mon! Get over yourself, Cameron!"

Warm, lemon yellow light slowly creeps across the white kitchen walls, and it makes her hair flash a rich golden color as she twirls through the sunbeams.

Rafe remembers exactly when he fell in love with her because it was a moment similar to this one. She's half dressed, dancing in the kitchen in her tube socks. Her hair is a mess, falling out of the already sloppy bun it's been thrown in, and he's not even sure she's wearing anything under the billowy mass of his shirt. The buttons are misaligned and he's half hoping it will fall further down her shoulder just so he can prove his theory.

God, does she get on his nerves. "Of you? Or looking like an idiot?" Rafe braces himself against the countertop, his lean body relaxed.

Right now he's just content to watch her, socked feet sliding against the white kitchen tile as she does what he has to admit is a fairly decent impression of the moonwalk. Thankfully he doesn't speak too soon because she stumbles over her own feet at the end, catching herself just before she hits the floor.

Rafe just shakes his head, blue eyes shining with a light that only she can put in them. "You're a maniac." His heart hurts. He wishes this wasn't so complicated.

Rafe met (y/n) through Topper, his best friend since grade school. Consequently, Topper was also (y/n)'s older brother. Now, he wants to make this point clear, he never set out to fuck his best friend's kid sister. Shit just happens. He had always liked her, of course, but everyone did. She didn't rat out anything they did at parties, and she was always down to hang out and do... other things. His favorite of those things being the time they had sex in the backseat of Topper's jeep. They'd emerged an hour later, faces hot and clothes rumpled, and returned back to the party as if nothing happened.

Rafe is sure Topper knows he's doing less than decent things with his little sister — they did leave his car reeking of sex for the whole next week — but for the most part, they keep whatever is between them under wraps. She says it's because she doesn't want to hurt her brother if things go south. Rafe knows it's because she's seventeen and doesn't want to commit to anything she doesn't have to.

"We aren't dating, Rafe. You know that."

He's just proposed that they go with Kelce and his girlfriend to the golf club tomorrow.

"Bullshit," he laughs, grinning from ear to ear. She was bad for him, her and her flighty indecisiveness, but so were a lot of other things he did. Rafe figured there were worse things that could kill him.

"You'll get over me eventually. I promise."

He's really grinning now because he knows she's all talk. "Sure," he relents, playing along for the sake of the conversation. "And when I don't?"

She's rolling her eyes now but still smiling as he takes her hand and twirls her around, her toes twirling delicately across the kitchen floor. "You're just like my brother. You'll find another Sarah Cameron and move on with your life."

He actually scoffs at that. "I'd rather not think about the things your brother does to my sister."

"I'm sure Top feels the same way," she refutes, sidling closer to Rafe until they're nearly pressed chest to chest. The collar of the shirt has slidden off her shoulder, well below her collarbone, and still there's no bra strap in sight. He swallows, a hand sliding up the back of her bare thigh to cup the curve of her backside and pull her closer to him.

She must notice his tentativeness because she offers him a cheeky look, cupping her hand over his own. "No need to be shy. If you're going to touch me then get going with it."

Rafe's blue eyes flit to hers, and the corner of his mouth quirks up into a shy smile, as if he's been caught contemplating and she read his mind. His other hand glides up her shirt, reveling at the warmth of her skin before sliding home. The bud of her breast pebbles under the swipe of his thumb and she shivers.

"What's wrong with being shy?" he mumbles, his head ducking to mouth at the cavern of her collarbone. Her body is warm and impossibly alive in his hands. There are often times like this one that he cannot fathom the fact that like him, she is a living, breathing person. He can feel her heart thumping under the weight of his palm, almost unbearably alive.

The tent in his pants must betray him because she laughs. "Rafe Cameron, you have never been shy a day in your life." Her hips grind up into his and he muffles a groan into her skin. He would say she knows him too well but really there's no hiding what's happening in his pants.

His fingers tug down at her shirt as he cranes his neck lower to mouth at the tender swell of her breast. A pleased sound escapes her. Before she can grip him through his shorts, he swiftly grabs her wrist, placing it instead on his waist. "Later," he huffs. His dick can wait.

When her hand again slips past the waistband of his boxer, his teeth catch her skin, reprimanding her. "Later, dammit," Rafe scolds, but there's no bite to his voice. He's smiling again as he kisses the welp better. His hands are on her waist, thumbs digging in below her hipbones to pull her body into his. Her fingers are in his hair, tickling his scalp and making him sigh into her skin. Rafe smoothes his tongue over the hickey forming on the top of her breast, making sure to attend to the other side as well.

With her hands still in his hair, Rafe drops to his knees on the kitchen tile. He is very, very pleased to find that she is not wearing panties. Narrowing his blue eyes, he shoots her a knowing glare. "You're nothing but trouble, kid."

Her hands tangled in his hair push his head back down. "You sound like you're trying to catch a case calling me that."

Rafe laughs at her impatience. At first he had been painfully aware of their three year age gap. She was Topper's litter sister for god's sake — practically a baby when he was a senior in high school. That number has faded over the years but it doesn't mean he doesn't like to tease her.

Grinning, his nose drags along the tan of her bikini line. She smells like sun tan oil and something he can't quite place. He would like to linger a while longer to figure it out but he's afraid she'll get too impatient with him.

Palms griping the backs of her thighs, he licks through her folds. The contact makes her body jump, but her fingers tighten as much as they can in his cropped hair, forcing his face closer. He just knows his jaw is going to ache tomorrow. Is it actually good head if it doesn't? He doesn't think so.

Rafe drags his tongue up to her clit before sucking at it. She squeaks at this, legs quivering beside his head. Just when he thinks she's going to lose her balance, she thankfully grabs on to the counter behind her before they both topple to the floor.

"Holy..." she begins, but doesn't even finish her sentence.

Grunting, Rafe has to force his wide shoulders in between her knees to keep them open as he laps at her. His tongue dips further into her, causing his nose to nudge her clit each time his mouth explores her further.

Eventually he becomes more insistent with his actions, lapping at her clit until she's whimpering, sensitive to the point that he doesn't know if she's more keen on shoving his head towards her or pushing it away. She comes with a cry, squirming in his hands as his tongue finishes the job properly.

"Oh god, I love you. Please. Fuck, you're— Right there."

Rafe pulls away just a fraction to breathe. "What'd you say?"

He's sure she can still feel his hot breath against her weeping cunt. There's arousal leaking down her thighs and he can feel it dripping down from his chin to his neck.

Panting, her cheeks are flushed as she looks down at him, but he has a feeling it's not from him. "What?" she stammers. "Nothing."

He grins cheshire-like up at her. His hands rub the backs of her thighs soothingly before squeezing her calfs. "You said the "L" word," he accuses.

Her eyes widen in realization. "No. No, I didn't," she protests.

Rafe rises to his feet, hands trailing up her body as his smile grows wider. She's trapped between his body and the counter and has no choice but to try and dodge him as he tries to catch her eyes. "What was it?" He taunts, laughing. "Say it again, baby?"

She tries to cover her face with her hands but with Rafe's overpowering strength, the attempt is useless. Even hiding halfway behind her arms, he can tell she's smiling. "I didn't! I didn't say anything!"

"C'mon! Baby. Baby, look at me." Rafe pulls her her rigid arms away from her face and holds them out to either side of her head. "Hey, I said look at me."

Leveling his gaze with her, they lock eyes for a moment, neither saying anything. Although her expression is fairly calm, if not a little pensive, he can tell she’s searching his face for a reaction. Timidly, he presses his lips to hers, stealing a chaste kiss before pulling away again.

“I love you too.”

#rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #obx imagine #obx x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron smut #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic #rafe smut #rafe x reader

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roosterforme · 11 months

Text

How You Play the Game Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley takes the day off from work to spend it with you instead. He has no right to feel as jealous as he does when someone else asks you out, and it leaves him wondering exactly what it would be like to date you. It's obvious you need a break from another night in a hotel room, so Bradley takes you somewhere more comfortable.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, angst, oral and smut (18+)

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

You wiggled around in Bradley's arms as he kissed your shoulder late the following morning. He loosened his grip on you but didn't let go completely, and once you were facing him, he pulled you close so your body was pressed to his from head to toe.

When you kissed him, images of mini golf and a late night dinner filled your mind, and you snuggled in. This was so much more than fucking. This was a full blown love affair. And maybe it was starting to feel too intense and scary because you'd never experienced anything like this before, but this was something you'd never forget. You'd have to fight to get over Bradley, but you would never forget him. And now you were determined to enjoy the rest of your time here.

"Do you want to go eat the mediocre continental breakfast with me before they close everything up at ten o'clock?"

He chuckled, and the sound of it made you smile. He didn't really belong in your world, and you didn't belong in his, but this overlap was something special.

"Yeah, Ace," he rasped, running his fingers inside his Padres jersey which you were still wearing and wrapping his hand around your hip. He lifted his head up and checked the time on the alarm clock. "It's 9:30, Baby. Let's go eat, and you can tell me what we're doing today."

You simply buttoned up his jersey, skipping a bra, and pulled your jeans back on while he also got dressed in yesterday's clothing. On the walk to the elevator, he was looking down at his shirt while he held your hand. "Great. I got maple syrup on myself at the diner."

"That's why you smell so good."

Bradley laughed and backed you up against the wall inside the elevator. "Well, I didn't bring anything else to wear, and you look mighty cozy in my jersey, so I guess you'll have to smell maple syrup on me all day. You look so cute in that thing, I think it's yours now."

You let him tip your head back and kiss you while he ran one sure hand along your butt and gave you a squeeze. Your heart pounded a little faster at the prospect of always having his shirt with you so you could wear it any time. You briefly wondered if you could get away with still wearing it if you ever had a boyfriend, but it was almost amusing that you could only picture yourself with Bradley now.

"Oh, I have an idea," you said, giggling softly as you exited the elevator and led him toward the crowded breakfast area.

"What's that?" he asked, piling a plate full of waffles and drenching them in syrup. Then he muttered, "Fuck it. The shirt's already a mess."

You had to stifle your laughter as you got your own plate of food ready, and then Bradley found a small table with only one chair and quickly claimed it. You set your plate down and he patted his thigh indicating that you could sit on his lap. You'd already had sex with him, multiple times. You shouldn't feel butterflies in your tummy over the idea of the intimacy of sitting on his lap in front of strangers.

"How do you take your coffee?" you asked, bending to kiss his forehead.

"Black," he replied, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. "No sugar."

"Boring," you whispered with a grin that he immediately matched. Then you could feel his eyes on your back as you walked to the coffee station and made one paper cup of coffee just the way you liked it before dispensing his as well. When you turned to face him, his eyes were already on yours, and he was patting his leg like he couldn't stand being without you for another minute.

"Ace," he grunted, raising one eyebrow, and when you set the coffees down, he pulled you onto his lap. "That's better. Now what's on the agenda for the day?"

You kissed his cheek as he took a bite of waffle. "Well, my agenda consists of another exclusive interview and article submission before the game tonight. So I guess it's our agenda now."

"Sounds fun," he said, and you watched him drip more syrup onto his shirt. "Fuck," he growled while you hooted with laughter.

"It's okay. I have a solution," you promised him. And when you were done eating, you took him by the hand and went to refill the coffees. "Let's visit the gift shop."

"Good idea," he muttered. "I need a toothbrush and deodorant."

"And I'm buying you a new shirt," you added once you were inside the small shop. You handed a pink toothbrush and some men's deodorant to the girl who was working, and then you pushed Bradley toward all of the Angels tee shirts, but he was just shaking his head.

"I can't wear one of these. The Padres will know, Ace." But he was smiling as you reached for a red one with an 'A' on the front.

"Which size?" you asked, and when he responded saying he needed an extra large, you looked through all the racks. "The biggest is a large." When you asked the girl who was working if there were more shirts, she shook her head.

Bradley held a size large up to his body and said, "I guess I can make it work. I don't know if red's my color though."

But you took it from his hands and said, "Only one way to find out." Then you charged everything to your room, and Bradley leaned down to kiss your neck and whisper thank you. "It's the least I can do after mini golf and the diner and the baseball tickets and how many miles you've driven to see me."

He followed you to the elevator as he said, "I did all of that because I wanted to."

"And I bought you a shirt, because I wanted to." Maybe you hoped he'd continue to wear it past the weekend. After you were gone. You didn't want to think about it as a frown creased your forehead. But it was like he knew what you were thinking, because he kissed you softly as you rode the elevator back up to your floor.

Once the door closed and you were both alone in the hotel room, Bradley pulled his stained Padres shirt off, and you marvelled at his body once again. Snug jeans buttoned just below his belly button. Tan skin everywhere. Abs that you couldn't help but close the distance to him and trace with your fingers.

Bradley cleared his throat as you dropped the bag from the shop to the floor, and he watched your fingers glide up his abs toward his solid chest. "What time is your exclusive interview?" he asked, his voice rough with need. "And where?"

"At 12:30. Across the street at the ballpark," you whispered, and then he had you in his arms.

"I have an idea," he said, practically carrying you into the bathroom. "Let's take a shower together." You almost wanted to say no. You just knew that having his body all warm and slick and pressed up against yours would be almost too much. But then you were unbuttoning his pants, and he was stripping off the jersey and your jeans.

The two of you made out as he cranked the water to hot, and the room was filled with steam by the time you wrapped your hand around his cock, and he followed you into the shower. Bradley stood behind you, blocking most of the hot spray as he ran his palms covered in body wash up and down the front of you. "Feel good?" he asked, smiling against your skin. Because of course it felt good to have his big hands on your nipples and rubbing your clit just right.

This man barely had to do anything to get you off. Just his deep voice coaxing you along while he touched you. "Love those little noises, Ace. I love it when you say my name."

Your legs were shaking as you whined for him, and his sturdy body was the only thing keeping you upright as you saw stars. You came around two of his fingers shoved in your pussy while you rocked against his thumb on your clit. And before he could agree or disagree with your plan, you were on your knees for him with his cock in your mouth.

"Fuck," he groaned as you took him deep without any warning. You were blinking against the water droplets that hit you in the face as Bradley guided you a little slower with one hand at the back of your head and the other stroking your cheek. "You're the best, Ace," he crooned, the scars on his neck prominent against his Adam's apple and his voice strained. "So fucking good, Baby."

You let him guide you at the pace he wanted it, and you were rewarded with Bradley's voice practically growling your proper name as he filled your throat with his cum. You swallowed him down as you sucked until he had to pull you away from him and haul you to your feet. The shower wall was cold against your back and butt as Bradley devoured your mouth. You knew he must have tasted himself there as he sucked on your lip and licked your tongue.

As the minutes passed, the tempo slowed, and the two of you eventually broke apart with matching smiles. You managed to finish showering as Bradley's rosy cheeks grew a deeper shade of pink. "You're really something else, Ace."

--------------------------------

"I can't wear this," Bradley murmured as he pulled on the Angels shirt you'd purchased for him after breakfast. You and he really needed to get over to the ballpark so you could interview one of the players, and you looked like a million bucks in your jeans and casual blouse. But Bradley was in his jeans and a shirt that left nothing to the imagination. You could probably count his abs through this thing. But you were gaping at him and mumbling something.

"You look hot," you gasped, eyes growing wider. "Like ridiculously hot, Bradley."

He turned to look in the mirror, and there was a reason he bought extra large shirts. This one actually was a nice color on him, but the sleeves were tight on his biceps, and the whole thing was too snug across his chest. But he supposed it wasn't too terrible. It would get him through the day until he could get back home.

And then what? Would he see you at that same hotel in San Diego again? Would you want him to stay over with you? He was already itching to invite you to his house after the game tonight, but that seemed presumptuous. And having your body tucked against his all night long in a hotel room had some different implications than having your body next to his in his own bed. But he wanted it. He wanted to know what that would feel like. The specific way his own sheets would feel against his bare legs as you whispered good night with his arm wrapped around you.

He shook his head and swallowed hard. "If you think I look okay, then let's get going." His voice sounded strange to his own ears, but you didn't seem to notice as you grabbed your bag with everything you would need and kissed his cheek.

"Seriously, it's almost too hot," you said, rubbing your hand along his belly and biting your lip. "And if anyone asks, you really are my assistant."

Bradley rolled his eyes to make you laugh, but upon arrival at the ballpark, he watched as you were searched for only the approved recording devices, and then he was searched as well. When someone asked him for his credentials, you pulled a pass from the plastic pouch on your lanyard. As soon as the guards examined the card with NEW YORK TIMES MEDIA EXCLUSIVE printed all over it, they seemed to be content to allow you both into the players only corridor.

"Come on, intern Bradshaw. Don't dawdle," you scolded playfully. But when he reached for your hand, you just shook your head. "Not here," you whispered, and then Bradley followed you into a room filled with cameras and players and reporters. Filming was taking place all over the enormous room, and he supposed it would look bad for you if he was holding your hand in the background of a photo printed by the Chicago Tribune.

"Who are you interviewing anyway?" he asked as you walked directly through the room and down another hallway that emptied out next to the Angels dugout.

"Sheldon Darvish."

"Shit," Bradley murmured, because when he looked up, the pitcher who had been carrying the Angels through the postseason was right in front of him. He watched as you greeted the other man like you and he were old friends with a lingering handshake and some laughter.

"Before we go on the record, I hope it's okay that I have a guest with me today?" you asked. "He doesn't have any recording devices on him."

Darvish barely spared a glance at Bradley where he leaned against the wall, nodding at him briefly before turning back toward you and saying, "It's fine with me. I've known you so long, I trust you."

"Okay, perfect," you replied, digging your recording device out of your bag as Sheldon Darvish sat down on the bench and patted the spot next to him. Then you sat awfully close to him and informed him that he was now on the record with you.

And Bradley was starting to have an issue with the way this guy was looking at you. While you kept your posture steady and set the recorder on the bench, Bradley watched Sheldon's eyes dip down to your blouse as you got your notebook and pen ready. And was his smile supposed to look charming when you asked him questions? Because he looked annoying to Bradley. This asshole probably thought he was hot shit, "accidentally" bumping your leg with his a few times.

But this guy actually was hot shit. Bradley listened to you rattle off some of his statistics while Darvish shrugged like his killer pitching was nothing. He would probably be the Angels' ace starter next year. He was most definitely going to get a massive contract extension. His pitching had been phenomenal. He was actually handsome. And he was familiar with you. And now Bradley was wondering if you ever slept with this guy.

The fact that he didn't have the right to feel jealous did not escape him, and Bradley even managed to evade the alarm bells going off in his mind when he told himself to pump the brakes. But then he had to watch as you finally ended the interview and turned off the recording device as you stood, and the pitcher's gaze followed your delicious body as you packed your bag again.

"We're off the record," you told Darvish with a smile. "You didn't hear it from me, but good luck tonight. I know you're on short rest after your last start."

"Thanks," he replied easily, and when he stood, he was every bit as tall as Bradley. Maybe even taller. And now Bradley felt like an idiot standing here in a snug Angels shirt like he was some sort of fan of this guy who was currently asking you out. "Hey, if you're free right now, I'd love to take you to lunch. Anywhere you want. I have an hour or two before I need to start icing my shoulder."

You smiled and shook your head as you backed away. "That's never a good idea, and you know it. But I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

Before you could even turn all the way toward Bradley, Sheldon replied with, "Any time I see your name, I agree to an exclusive. Just in case you've changed your mind."

"Bye, Sheldon," you said with a little wave. Then you walked over to Bradley like he hadn't just witnessed something unsavory and asked, "You ready to go? I need some time to write this up and submit it."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted. And he glared at the major league baseball player who was currently looking at your ass. Apparently you were so far out of Bradley's league, it was some sort of a joke. But he was jealous and annoyed, and on the walk back through the room with all the cameras, he asked, "Did you ever sleep with that guy?"

You glanced briefly up at him over your shoulder, but you didn't respond until you were alone in the hallway. And even then, you kept walking along instead of looking at Bradley as you said, "Are you seriously asking me if I ever had sex with Sheldon Darvish? Have I not made it clear to you that I value my career?"

Your voice was calm, but Bradley could tell right away that you were pissed off. And he didn't think it was because he struck the truth with his statement. He had just offended you and your professionalism. "Ace, I-"

"Did you not hear what he said about agreeing to exclusives?" you snapped as you picked up your pace. "I'm not oblivious to the fact that I am young and a woman. If I slam the door in Darvish's face and start yelling about how unprofessional it would be to sleep with him, then guess what... no more interviews. And that goes for a handful of other players and coaches, too. I can't play the game the same way as the boys, Bradley. It doesn't work that way."

"Shit," he muttered, lengthening his strides to keep up with you as you exited the hallway near the ballpark entrance. "Ace. I'm sorry. I was out of line for so many reasons."

You came to a stop in the deserted concourse and looked up at him with tears in your eyes. "No, I never slept with Sheldon Darvish. No, I don't sleep around when I'm on the job. You're an anomaly, Bradley Bradshaw. And you're free to get in your cool car and go back to San Diego any time you want."

"Ace!" he practically shouted as you turned away, reaching for your hand even though you would probably pull it away. But you didn't. So he kissed you like he'd been dying to for the past hour. Just a short, soft press of his lips to yours, but it was enough to convey what he wanted it to. "I got jealous. I'm sorry. I know you're a pro. I'm just an idiot."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you coming back with me while I write this thing?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go."

-----------------------------

You sat perched on Bradley's lap while you proofread your newest piece on Darvish, and Bradley rubbed your back softly. As soon as you got back to the hotel room, you changed back into his Padres jersey instead of your stuffy blouse even though you knew you'd have to change back before the game tonight.

"This is really good," Bradley murmured, reading over your shoulder. "I'm still surprised how quickly you can put an article together that makes me want to read it five times to catch all of the details."

Every time he said something so complimentary about your writing, you wanted to tell Greg Pfeffer to fuck off and then stay in California with Bradley. Your phone started ringing on the table next to your computer, and it was Greg himself. You pressed your index finger to your lips, warning Bradley not to talk, and then you answered the call and put it on speaker phone while you submitted your piece.

"Hi, Greg. Perfect timing, I'm about to send in my Darvish exclusive."

"I've been waiting for it," he barked in response. "Thursdays are slow as shit until the Thursday night football stats come in. You know this. I want to get this one online immediately."

You had to stifle a sigh as Bradley tightened his grip on you. "It's not even three in the afternoon here, Greg. But it's nearly finished, so I'll send it over now."

"Don't forget the hard cutoff tonight after the game."

And then Greg ended the call, and you were left with silence. Bradley kissed your neck and whispered, "He's such a fucking idiot. Doesn't appreciate what he's got."

You could count on one hand the number of times you were a couple minutes late submitting an article in the past eight years. And maybe Bradley was right, but there was a price to be paid when you were at the top of your game. And that price was a lot higher for women. You submitted your article and waited for the receipt to arrive in your email inbox along with the daily recruitment emails. There was a pretty good chance Bradley caught a glimpse of the screen before you closed your computer and melted into his arms, but you didn't care.

He held you silently on his lap just like that for a long time with his big hands keeping you warm and the steady rise and fall of his chest calming you. And then you must have fallen asleep. Because you jolted in his arms, and he chuckled, and the light coming in through the window looked different.

"What time is it?" you asked softly.

"Four."

The game was at six, and you didn't want to move at all, so you let yourself indulge in Bradley for a little bit longer. You snuggled in closer and listened to his deep voice make suggestions that you knew you shouldn't consider. "I was thinking... you and I should go back to my place after the game tonight. I really should get to work tomorrow, and you could have a day off to rest before game six on Saturday. You know, somewhere other than a hotel room?"

"Yes." The word was out of your mouth so quickly, and he kissed the top of your head. It had been almost two months since you'd been in your own bed, and now you were curious to see what Bradley's place was like. You were convinced it would be as cozy as he was. "After the game tonight."

When you looked up at him, he was smiling. And that gorgeous smile was still there when you and he arrived at the crowded gate for the game. "Oh, shit. I wasn't even thinking you'd need a ticket," you said as you pulled out your pass. "I doubt there are any for sale, but I can ask-"

"I bought one online while you were napping."

You gaped at him. "How much did you spend?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied, holding up his phone to get the ticket scanned. "Worth every cent."

The warmth you were feeling carried over to the press box where Bradley smiled and waved at Quincy when he turned and glared in your direction. "You okay, man?" he asked him. "Game's happening in that direction." Bradley pointed down to the field until Quincy turned back around. "These assholes really are obsessed with everything you do," Bradley mumbled. "It's like they've never seen a woman outdoing them before."

You had to stifle your laughter during which was becoming a very boring game. After Darvish only pitched four innings, both teams started blowing through their backup pitchers to try to keep the score at 0-0 for as long as possible. Even your stats sheet was boring, and you weren't sure how you were going to make your article interesting.

"I need to find a way to spice this up a little bit," you said before taking a sip from the water bottle Bradley fetched for you. "Because this game is not very interesting."

"I think it's fascinating, but that may just be because I'm sitting next to you," he replied from his folding chair with his leg pressed to yours. "Could be biased. And I can think of a way to spice things up."

You pressed your lips together before saying, "Tell me."

Bradley's eyes landed on the single room restroom as he said, "You're very good at baseball dirty talk. Write that shit into your article, and nobody will know what hit them."

"You really did like that, huh?"

He groaned softly in response, and you had to squeeze your thighs together. "Pitching stats and batting averages in your voice... Baby, it's too damn hot."

You grinned as he was still wearing that snug Angles shirt which would have looked a little silly on most men. When you let your hand come to rest on his thigh at the top of the sixth inning, you whispered, "The Padres have a combined batting average that's almost five percent higher than the rest of the league."

"Tell me more," he whispered, his cheeks already growing rosy.

After you made sure nobody was looking, you wrote down the pitch count and said, "I think it's because they change their batting order so frequently. Keeps the other teams guessing what's coming next."

You cupped his cock and felt him getting harder for you. "Give me a little more, Baby," he rasped.

You giggled as you said, "Did you know the Padres' left handed batters are better even than the 1979 Pirates?"

"Shit," Bradley gasped. "Let's go fuck in the bathroom." His cheeks were bright pink and he was rock hard. You nodded, because you were turned on too. And you knew this was more than just fucking; this was some deeply indulgent reaction you had to each other that needed to be explored. You took Bradley by the hand during the break in the inning, and reached into your tote bag.

"How fast can you be?" you asked as you discreetly held up a condom.

"For you?" he asked as he followed you into the bathroom and started undoing his pants. "Fast."

Your hands were braced on the sink vanity, and your pants and underwear were down around your knees. "Oh my god," you whined as you watched your reflection in the mirror as Bradley sucked on your neck and fucked you from behind. He was going fast, his left hand next to yours while he stroked your clit with his right.

"Usually I like taking my time with you," he grunted. "But a quickie in the press box? I'll be thinking about this for the rest of my life, Ace." Then he met your eyes in the mirror, and you were shocked to find yourself cumming for him as he railed you with sharp snaps of his hips. "Shit, Baby!"

You tried your best to be quiet, and as soon as Bradley came, you spun around while he was catching his breath. "I'm going to sneak back out first," you whispered, kissing him hard on the lips and then fixing your pants. "See you out there."

You still had quite a few condoms left in your suitcase which made you smile. And you would be heading to Bradley's house in a few hours which made your smile grow. When he returned from the bathroom a minute later with his cheeks still pink and a little grin on his face, you had to cover your lips to keep from laughing.

---------------------------

You were back on Bradley's lap in your hotel room as you finished your article. But this time your bags were all packed, and you were ready to return your rental car and hit the road with him. He was taking you back to his house, and he couldn't be happier. Granted, he was working very hard to keep himself from thinking about what was coming later this weekend.

"Why are my notes blank right here?" you asked him, raising an accusatory eyebrow in his direction as you tapped your notebook.

"Oops," Bradley replied, reaching around you to playfully add some text to your paragraph. He spoke out loud as he typed, "And this is the part of the sixth inning that I missed because I was in the bathroom with Bradley."

You laughed and backspaced the sentence as you said, "I mean, that would definitely spice up the article!"

"It was kind of a boring game five. I mean, the Padres only won by one run."

"I know," you said as you typed up some flowery nonsense about how the quiet crowd at Angels Stadium was an asset to the Padres. "Let's get out of here," you said, submitting your article.

"Wait, you don't have to rush," Bradley replied, stilling your hands. "We can return your rental car and get on the road anytime."

"It's okay," you whispered. "This is as good as it's going to get. And my article will still be better than Quincy's."

"I don't doubt that," he said with a yawn. "Damn it, Ace. You're wearing me out."

After Bradley followed you to the rental car drop off, he hopped out of the still running Bronco and added your bags to the back. When you returned the keys and headed back toward him in the beams of his headlights, you reached for him. "Want me to drive so you can get a nap in? You have to work early tomorrow, and it's almost 11:30."

He didn't really want to miss a waking minute with you, but he was exhausted. And a ninety minute drive now would probably leave him in a zombie-like state at work tomorrow. "You don't mind?"

"No," you replied, and he walked you to the driver's side door and got the seat adjusted to where you needed it.

"Thanks," he whispered, kissing you in the dark parking lot as he cupped your cheek. He helped you up and closed the door, and as soon as he entered his address into your phone GPS and handed it back to you, he was falling asleep.

The soft music you selected on the radio sent him into some sweet dreams where you were still his at Thanksgiving and for Christmas and even on New Year's Eve. He dreamed about spending his birthday with you and his friends at the beach. And when he woke up to your soft voice and your hand on his leg, it just made sense.

"We're here, Bradley," you were saying with a smile in your voice. "Wake up." And when he opened his eyes, he'd never seen anything prettier. Being near you just seemed right.

"Thanks for driving," he rasped as he sat up in his Angels shirt that he kind of couldn't wait to take off. "Let's get all your stuff inside." Really, you only had one piece of luggage and your tote bag. He could hardly understand how you stayed away from home for so long with so little. It made him feel sad as he carried your things inside.

He knew his house was small, but it was comfortable and clean and everything he needed. But you gasped when you entered the cottage as Bradley turned on some lights.

"Your place is huge!" you sighed, walking around and looking at his large TV and some of the photos of his parents that were hanging up. "And really tidy for a bachelor pad."

You were grinning at him as he led you to his bedroom. "Not sure if I left unfolded laundry on my bed. I was in a rush to get up to Anaheim to see you." But luckily his room was tidy, too. And you kicked off your shoes and started to undress like you belonged there as he set your bags down.

"I need to charge my computer," you mumbled, walking around his room completely naked. "Can I borrow a shirt for bed? And where's your bathroom?"

Bradley pulled a TOP GUN shirt out of his drawer and handed it to you with a kiss. "Across the hallway." He watched you retrieve your toiletry bag and walk out of the room. He almost never had anyone else spend the night here with him. Occasionally Nat would pass out in the other room, and very rarely he'd let a girl stay overnight. But the last time that happened had been quite a while ago.

But the way you waltzed back into his room with your face clean of makeup and hugged him around the middle left him breathless. "Thanks for bringing me here. I can't even tell you how draining it is to always be in a hotel room. I just did the math when I was brushing my teeth: I haven't been in my own apartment in forty-nine nights."

Bradley was flabbergasted. "Forty-nine?! Ace, that's... way too many!"

"I know," you replied with a laugh. "And it'll probably be ninety before I get back there."

Bradley shook his head. "Come here." He tugged you toward his bed and pulled back the covers for you. "Get comfy. I'll be right back."

While he brushed his teeth and rinsed his face, Bradley thought about how you probably needed someone to take care of you occasionally. He wanted to do it. When he returned to his bedroom in his underwear, you looked so tiny wrapped up in his bedding with your head on his pillow, but you were smiling.

"You do whatever you want tomorrow, okay? But I think you should rest," he whispered as he climbed in bed and pulled you close. "Help yourself to whatever is in my refrigerator. Use my washer and dryer. Look at the baseball cards in my garage. Whatever you want. But try to relax while I'm at work."

"Yes, sir," you mumbled against his shoulder. "Thanks for reminding me I need a break."

Bradley grunted in response and turned off his lamp, but the darkness just made his senses more alert. When he kissed the top of your head, he could tell you weren't asleep yet. He ran his hand down your arm until he was holding your hand, and he couldn't hold back the words that he spoke. "Tell me what it would be like to be in a relationship with you."

When you didn't respond right away, he felt embarrassed. He'd made a jealous fool of himself earlier over Sheldon Darvish when he had no right to you whatsoever. And now he was trying to push things too far. He was about to apologize as you kissed his shoulder again.

"Nobody actually wants to date me," you said softly. "Guys just think they do. They love the idea of me, I guess. And maybe they could even grow to love me. But it's too much for them. It always is. I'm never around, and it's impossible to get in contact with me when I can't take my phone into a four hour exclusive. And I'll miss your birthday and our anniversary," you said as you laughed a little bitterly. "I stopped celebrating my own birthday when I turned twenty three and couldn't figure out which day it was as I flew to Europe for the Olympics coverage."

Bradley squeezed you and whispered, "I didn't ask what other guys thought, Ace. I asked what it would actually be like."

Once again, he was met with silence, and he realized it was because you were trying not to cry. He whispered an apology against your forehead as you said, "Parts of it would be fun, Bradley. But the other parts would be too hard, and I wouldn't want you to feel bad about losing interest in someone who you never saw."

He tipped your head up and kissed your lips. "I wouldn't lose interest. And I just really want to watch the Blue Jays with you."

You returned his kiss before you whispered, "I know." And then he let you turn so your back was to him. A minute later, you reached tentatively with your hand until you found his. Bradley let you wrap yourself up in his arms, and eventually you both fell asleep while he kissed your neck and tried not to tell you how he was really feeling.

------------------------

He just wants to watch the Blue Jays with her. That's all he wants. This story is making me a lot more emo than I anticipated. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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463 notes · View notes

nhlclover · 1 year

Text

hawaii | jack hughes

summary: you and your boyfriend celebrate his birthday in hawaii.

request: yes / no

warnings: fluff, a few references to sex

a/n: he is just so…

word count: 0.7k

The sliding door to the balcony had been left open, allowing a warm salty breeze to roll in. The early morning sun crept in through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. A ray of sunlight that snuck through the gap in the curtains landed directly on my boyfriend's face, illuminating his features.

The glow made Jack’s tan skin look even more so, accentuating the blonde highlights in his hair and the freckles across his cheeks. His chest rose and fell with every steady breath. He looked angelic lying next to me.

We had been in Hawaii now for a couple of days and planned it so Jack's birthday would fall right in the middle of our trip. What Jack didn’t know was that I had planned a day full of things that he’d been wanting to do our whole trip.

The clock on the nightstand read just past 8. I slipped out of bed, putting on Jack’s discarded t-shirt from last night’s early birthday celebration. I grabbed the phone off the nightstand, dialling room service while walking to the balcony. The cord just allows me to step out there to take the call so I don’t wake Jack.

I order us some breakfast and coffee, stepping back into our room where Jack is still soundly sleeping in bed. I crawl back into bed, lying next to him, gently running my hands over his bare chest. He stirs but doesn’t fully wake, so I lean in and press soft kisses to his neck. I look up at his face, a small smile tugging on his lips.

I continue the kisses, trailing up his jawline and onto his cheek. His smile grows and eventually, he opens his eyes. “Good morning.” I say softly.

“Morning.” He says in his raspy morning voice.

“Happy birthday.” I say.

He smiles, leaning over and pecking me on the lips. “Thank you, my love.” He smiles.

There’s a knock on the door, making Jack’s brows furrow. I get up, answering the door to a bellboy with our breakfast on a cart. I thank him, giving him a small tip and rolling the cart in.

“What did you do?” Jack asks, propped up on his elbow.

“I got us breakfast. It’s your birthday so I’m treating you.” I grab our plates, both with an omelette with some berries on the side. “I was thinking we can go hiking to see one of the waterfalls, then I know you wanted to go snorkelling so we’re gonna do that in the afternoon.”

“Wait I thought they were all booked?” He asked.

“I lied.” I smiled.

“Hell yeah.” Jack chuckled. Snorkelling was something he had been talking about doing ever since we planned this trip. However I lied to him telling him all the snorkelling trips were booked up, even though I had secretly booked us one for today.

“And then, I was thinking a round of golf?” I offer. “I packed that Lululemon skirt, y’know the white one?”

This makes Jack look up from his omelette at me, swallowing the piece in his mouth. “The short one?”

“Mhm.” I nod.

Jack groans, taking another bite of his breakfast.

A little while later we get ready for our day, which starts with the hike, then our snorkelling, followed by 9 holes of golf in which I got dominated. We came back to the room to get changed for dinner, taking a nice long shower together. Jack had on a loose white dress shirt with some jeans. He purposefully left the top couple of buttons undone, exposing the slightly burnt chest he had earned on our hike.

Dinner passed, as well as dessert where the restaurant staff brought out their signature dessert with sparklers stuck in, singing happy birthday to Jack, slightly embarrassing him. The blush on his cheeks made his already sunkissed skin look burnt.

Right at the end of dinner, the sun began to set so we made our way down to the beach to watch the sunset. We stood right before the water, our shoes discarded up the beach to let the water run over our bare feet. Jack stood behind me with his arms wrapped around my torso.

“Thank you for today, baby.” He says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Anything for my birthday boy.” I reply. “Was today good?”

“It was amazing.” He says. Jack places his hands on my hips, spinning me around to face him, a smirk tugging on his lips. “I have another activity that could close out the birthday festivities with a bang?”

Jack and I grab our shoes, heading in the direction of our hotel. The pair of us are giggling like idiots, running up the beach hand in hand.

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #nhl #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #hockey #luvzegras

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lokischocolatefountain · 1 year

Text

Sunglasses

Married!Javi series Masterlist

Follow me on @javierpenaisapunk for my fic recs

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: G (wooo, that’s a first for me) Just fluffy fluff, you guys.

Word count: 1.6k words

Summary: Of all the things Javi has seen through his sunglasses, the sunglasses’ favorite sight is his relationship with his wife.

A/N: Apparently I’m writing fics from the POV of objects now. Hopefully it’s not really weird lol. Hit the follow button to read my next fic golf from the perspective of the sex Afghan on Javi’s leather couch (jk). Leave your girl a comment and reblog to fuel my obsession with writing this guy.

The Aviators were a staple of his look.

They could be anywhere. Dangling off the third or fourth button of his shirt at the bottom of the deep V that began at the collar. Perched on his nose, amber glass masking the intense gaze of intoxicating brown eyes.

They knew more intimately than most, his deepest fears. They had front row seats as he stared down the barrel of guns pointed at him. They knew the fear of seeing a teenage boy at the end of his gun, his hands shaking as the foundations of his morals stained under the pressure of his job.

If you asked them, they’d tell you of everything Javier saw at work, even the memories that he repressed to be able to wear his gun and badge another day. If you asked them, they’d tell you the first time he saw her. It was momentary. Fleeting. Nothing special. The aviators would let you know that his eyes did not linger, contrary to what his pretty pink lips whispered into her ears at night when he buried himself inside her. “Couldn’t take my eyes off of you the first time I saw you, Hermosa…” She’d moan and pull him close and kiss the lips that waxed poetic in between the dirty, dirty words that made her clench around him and pull his hair and arch her neck to let his lips taste her.

The aviators would tell you that they served as cover when he wanted to keep his emotions to himself. Police work did not take away how emotive those brown eyes were. So they sometimes served as blinds on the window to his soul.

She was the sunglasses’ favorite sight. Not because she was extraordinarily beautiful. Their owner would disagree- he would argue that she was extraordinary in every way, including beauty. He would add a couple more adjectives. But the aviators were more objective than the man they belonged to. However, both man and sunglasses could agree that she was their favorite view.

For Javier, it was her beauty- the spark in her eyes, the upward turn of her lips when she spotted him, the sign of desire when she looked him up and down, the way her shirts clung to her breasts, the fabric of her skirts that hugged her ass— you get the gist. For the sunglasses, the joy was in the way his eyes responded to the view.

First it was just curiosity. Pretty woman, sat by herself at the same restaurant where he sometimes had breakfast. Hard not to notice that she was a regular, one who sat at the exact same table and ate the same breakfast everyday.

Then it was desire. Nothing out of the normal for the man, the aviators would tell you. They’d seen desire on his side plenty when he saw women through them. The glasses were an accomplice to the way his eyes would gallivant over beautiful bodies. They sat close as his mind evaluated just how much he would love to have other parts of his body enjoy what his eyes had spotted.

As the relationship progressed, the aviators found themself in the mix a lot. Their owner found himself visiting her more often than other women. The pair was sometimes pressed against the chests of the couple as they drank from each other’s lips. Her hand sometimes took them off its place tucked in his shirt and set them on her bedside table.

The sunglasses would be the first to tell you when everything changed between Javier and the woman. At least on Javier’s part. Eyes that roamed the surroundings frantically to look for danger in every room acted uncharacteristically around her. They’d stop on her, take her in. Just when the glasses thought that their owner’s eyes had had enough, they’d find him continuing to stare. They were glad the man had her to look at. Something nice. Someone that made him happy.

She got closer to him than anyone else. And he let her.

The aviators weren’t a perfect barrier. If one stepped closer, stood heart to heart with the man, emotive brown eyes would reveal the depths of the soul.

She saw it through the sunglasses’ amber barrier. He allowed her the spot in front of his chest from where she could see it. She seemed to like what she saw, staying in the spot he gave her though he was afraid, though his mind told him to step back before she saw too much— before he liked what he saw more than he should. The aviators could tell you that he was long past that point.

There was no stopping now.

It was because of her that the aviators knew there was a world beyond sicarios, sex workers, and bosses cross at Javier for his transgressions.

There were dates in grassy parks, picking her up from university, and accompanying her to markets where she bought vegetables that Javier loaded in his jeep. The aviators were unaware of the existence of vegetables before that. They would be quite annoyed if you mocked them for this lapse in knowledge. To be fair to the object, Javier’s diet was strictly limited to whiskey and cigarettes.

The aviators were loyal. Javier only.

But they didn’t mind when she playfully snatched them off Javier’s face and placed them on her own. She played at his seriousness, looked through them in a mockery of his stern police-like gaze and let some expletives slip off her tongue in an imitation of him. It pleased the sunglasses that this woman who was so close to him believed them to be such an essential part of him that she used them to mimic him.

They got a glimpse into her soul then, could see that she had no malicious intent in snatching them off the rightful owner. It was not theft.

The twinkle in his eyes when she did that told the glasses that he enjoyed it. Other belongings found themselves on his women quite a lot. Especially his colorful shirts. They told stories of the beautiful women who’d wear them for a period after they’d been discarded on the floor in favor of access to the chest they covered up. The aviators didn’t have any such stories.

Until her.

The aviators would tell the shirts that they’d met her eyes, seen into her soul, seen that she liked him just as much as he liked her. The shirts in turn shared that he liked seeing her wear them after they found pleasure in each other’s bodies. It was different with her, the shirts would say. He liked her wearing them— the shirts — not just because he liked evidence of beautiful bodies in his belongings. No, he liked his woman wearing his shirts.

He lent them to her sometimes. When she squirted under the bright sun, he’d pluck them off his own face and offer them for her to wear. She’d smile and accept them, taking it as a gesture that he cared.

The sunglasses knew before the man himself that he’d fallen in love. Closest to the windows to his soul and all. His shirts would argue that they knew even before the sunglasses— they felt his heart beat faster when she came into contact with him. The sunglasses would argue that they knew better than the shirts— shirts changed everyday, but sunglasses didn’t.

They had the full picture if you will.

Ironically, the full picture was forgotten when it came to her. He had eyes only for her when she was around, the background blending together and fading away. Nothing else was important. They stared before only because of her physicality, but now they stared to learn and memorize every inch of her. They delighted in every micro expression, every smile and every frown, every which way she responded to him.

If you asked the aviators, they’d tell you proudly of being there when Javier’s eyes found a sparkling diamond ring in a jewelry store display. He took them off to admire it, to see its natural twinkle without the amber barrier. He didn’t buy it.

It was after all the biggest, shiniest rock that made it to the display of the store.

Not something one could afford on a government salary. Nothing you’d find on a humble professor’s finger. But, it put the thought in his head. Marriage. It frightened him, but not because of the commitment. No, it was fear that no sparkly bit of carbon would make her agree to a lifetime with his ass. He didn’t feel it with the last woman, Lorraine.

They blended in with her things soon. Next to her hair clip, her novel, both their wristwatches, and her earrings that he removed and set aside carefully when they made love. Just as his pants and shirts acquainted themselves with her dresses— on their bedroom floor, their laundry hamper, their dresser drawers.

Amber glasses would acquire scratches over the years. Javier would leave it forgotten in a drawer somewhere in his new home with his wife. Another pair of aviators, shiny and unscratched, would sit on the bridge of his beautiful nose. But if you asked them, they’d tell you of their clear vision though the scratches and from the dark depths of the drawer. They’d tell you that he still looked at her with the same adoration despite the years.

They’d find themselves roughhoused in small hands that like to play pretend. They'd sit on a nose, smaller yet similar to Javier’s as little lips that definitely belonged to her tried to talk like Papa. She’d laugh and tell him that their little one sounded exactly like him. He’d roll his eyes but enjoy the peaceful bubble he’d managed to forge with her.

The new aviators stayed shiny for not having seen the horrors, for having only the sight of his happy wife and growing family. But the OG, they’d proudly tell you that they shined despite the horrors of his old DEA job because they were there when it all began.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x ofc #javier peña fluff #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fic #all that i've inflicted on the world

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grannyandgrandpascreations · 2 years

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Bushwood Country Club 1980 Caddy Day Golf Tournament Distressed Flannel Shirt

One-of-a-kind bleached "Bushwood Country Club 1980 Caddy Day Golf Tournament" golf, high quality, affordable button down, two pocket distressed flannel shirt.

If your size is showing sold out, reach out to use to see if we have received a shipment of products in, due to the availability of items during this holiday season, we receive our products in daily.

No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.

SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit. Women's or Children's Specific sizing will be noted on the photo/variation options selected.

FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.

COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.

CONDITION: All of our flannel shirts are brand new and washed twiced.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

WEDDINGS: We do take custom orders for weddings! If you are interested in ordering a large group of shirts, please message me directly to set up a custom order. It is recommended that wedding orders be placed at least 2 months in advance so that we have enough time to create, ship, and exchange any shirts that do not fit.

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

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