#Deep Tissue Massage Knots | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

The total number of visits Tumblr.com received during January 2021 is 327 million.

#Deep Tissue Massage Knots

chrismasseur1 · 4 months

Text

Experience Day Massage Spa Euston Skilled Gentlemen's Solutions in Euston London

Greetings to Day Massage Spa Euston, The Ultimate Tranquility Journey: Redefine Well-being with My Premium Male Massage Services in The Heart of London Walk into a Deep Tissue Massage Knots realm of unadulterated calmness and rejuvenation at my respected male massaging facility in the heart of London. My goal is simple: to enhance your well-being through a singular fusion of calming techniques.…

View On WordPress

#Day Massage Spa Euston #Deep Tissue Massage Knots #Head Massage #Spa Day Treatments Euston

0 notes

herespaaa · 9 months

Text

Different Types of Massage Services: What works best for you | HereSpa

Stress and muscle tension have become common concerns for many individuals. At HereSpa, we understand the importance of finding the right massage therapy to suit your needs and preferences. With a variety of massage techniques available, we're here to guide you in selecting the best type of massage for your specific goals.

#Massage therapy #Stress relief #Muscle tension #Relaxation massage #Swedish massage #Deep tissue massage #Chronic tension #Knots and tightness #Reflexology massage #Holistic wellness #Sports massage #Performance enhancement #Injury prevention #Recovery massage #Personalized massage

0 notes

faith-forgxtten-land · 2 months

Text

Come to Bed | Donatello

this started with the idea of seducing donnie into healthy sleeping patterns and then just. spiralled from there. i didn't really have a specific iteration in mind but reading it back, it definitely fits bayverse most, i think, so that's what i'll categorise it under!

warnings: NSFW, swearing, general filthiness? gender neutral reader, everyone is 18+!!

summary: there is only one way to get donnie to come to bed (two if you count blackmail)

word count: 2411

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It’s nearly 3am and your eyelids feel heavy, eyes glassy and beginning to ache just a little, and Donnie is still not in bed. You look at the empty space beside you, cold and untouched, and kick the covers off your bare legs. The air is cool, goosebumps raising the moment you abandon the comfort of bed, and you almost regret getting up as your feet hit the freezing floor.

Donnie is so lucky you love him and care for his health.

He's exactly where you'd left him hours before, sitting hunched over a desk in his lab, and you wonder briefly if turtles with their shells can suffer the same complications as humans with poor posture. Perhaps you'll force him to join you and Mikey for your bi-weekly yoga sessions. “Donnie?”

The terrapin doesn't so much as flinch, instead burying his face further into a screen that is already way too close to his face. Oh, his prescription is definitely going to need updating soon, you think amusedly. You clear your throat, attempting your best grumpy Raph impersonation. “Oi, four-eyes.”

Now Donnie does flinch, beak nearly crashing into his monitor, glasses slipping as he salvages his precious technology from being assaulted by his face and spinning in his seat to glower at whoever dared disturb him. He relaxes when he realises it's just you, shooting you a scowl that's devoid of any real heat. “You need to stop doing that voice, it's creepy.”

You grin at him, noting the exact moment he registers what you're wearing – or, rather, what you're not wearing. His eyes go wide and his lips part, scowl melting like ice doused in salt. He swallows thickly. “You're meant to be a ninja,” you tease, stepping slowly into his space and letting his hands fall to your waist before they curl around your back as he pulls you close, palms flattening against your spine. “You can't hear when one measly human is behind you?”

“You are so mean to me,” Donnie says instead of answering.

“We both know you like it. Besides,” you look down at your naked skin, his own eyes following your pointed gaze eagerly. “I think I'm being pretty kind, actually. Someone was meant to come to bed three hours ago and ravish me, but apparently, I'm not more interesting than,” you peer over his shoulder as best you can, squinting at the tiny squiggles. Lips pursed, you look at your boyfriend flatly, not bothering to finish your sentence.

“I can explain.”

“World of Warcraft? Really, Donatello?”

He winces at the full name. “I wasn’t playing for long,” he defends himself. “I’ve been looking over some things Leo asked for since this morning, I was just taking a break.”

“Taking a break means coming to bed and not staring at a screen for even longer.” Softer, you add, “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

You run your hands up the bumpy skin of his muscled arms, over scars and rough tissue that you’ve pressed kisses to countless times, to rest upon his shoulders. A small part of you is resentful, but the larger, kinder part of you is concerned; his eyes are bloodshot to the extreme, and exhaustion is etched deep into the lines of his face. You dig your nails in and massage a little roughly, feeling those worried knots and doing your best to soothe them with gentle palms.

It hits him then, just exactly what he’d missed out on by getting caught up, and his shoulders sag under the tender weight of your caress, twitchy energy that can keep him up for days deserting him instantly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly.

You smile at him, fond and warm, one hand trailing upwards to cup his jaw. “It’s okay.” His skin is something you’ll never get tired of touching, you think, as you rub your thumb over the swell of his cheek. You pinch him a little, coy and mean the way you know he loves, before soothing it with a whisper of a kiss when he hisses playfully. “Although, you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“And what is my punishment?” he asks dryly, guilt pushed aside to indulge in your teasing as you lean closer to hide your smirk in the crook of his neck.

“You’ll be in bed by 11 p.m. sharp every night for the next week.” You can tell an objection is on the tip of his tongue, and you fix your teeth along his throat in warning. “I’ve already cleared everything with Splinter and Leo.”

Donnie sighs both in pleasure and in resignation. “Are you trying to seduce me into having healthy sleeping patterns?”

You start to kiss his neck, soft grazes of your lips against his scaled skin. “Maybe. Is it working?”

“Well—”

“If the answer isn’t yes, I’ll be very offended and I’ll be forced to dump you,” you add airily, tongue flicking leisurely over his rapid pulse. “You're incredibly lucky I haven't already for ditching me for World of fucking Warcraft.”

“Oh, blackmail too. Lucky me,” Donnie mutters, but it’s full of mirth and he doesn't push his luck any further.

You grin against his skin, and you grin even wider when he starts as your teeth scrape along the column of his throat. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips, and you bite down harder just to feel his grip tighten.

“You’re such a tease,” he whines, unable to stop himself bucking up into you. His breathing has turned to panting, short and desperate gasps that make heat curl in your stomach, and you trail your nails down the keratin of his plastron slowly.

“You love it,” you murmur coyly, fingers brushing against the elastic of his waistband mischievously. “And you deserve it.”

Donnie curses loudly, head falling back as you pull on that elastic just to let it snap back against him. His pants are soaking, and you feel that familiar rush of smug satisfaction as you slot your knee between his thighs. It does terrible things to your ego seeing him like this; it makes you drunk and dizzy seeing him drenched and needy for you, and you groan under your breath as he grinds against you.

“Please,” he whimpers.

You hum as casually as you can. “Please what?”

“Fuck, please, I need you—” He cuts himself off with a loud cry of your name as you slide two fingers past his waistband and into his dripping cloaca.

“Keep going.”

He’s quick to turn into a blubbering mess, drool running down his chin and words slurring as he babbles and begs you to continue finger-fucking him. “Don’t stop, please—yes, yes, right there, there, fuck—”

Your fingers pump in and out, scissoring inside him at a harsh pace you know he likes. He’s sopping wet but that doesn’t stop the tiny spikes of pain mixing deliriously with pleasure as you stretch him wide without warning. You can feel his slick coating your hand, running down your skin and over your knuckles, and he only gushes more when you add a third digit.

“Faster, faster,” he chants shakily, almost sobbing when you slow instead.

“You’re so tight, baby,” you purr. “I wouldn’t wanna hurt you.”

He’s definitely sobbing now. “I can take it, please, please.”

“Oh?” You curl your fingers and fuck him harder and faster, just the way he wants. His cock is there, thick and heavy and ready to drop, and he shudders as you brush softly against it.

His voice is choked as he calls your name again. "Gonna drop, please–”

Your laugh is light and a little cruel and it makes him wail, the sound overflowing with need and desperation. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh god,” Donnie gasps as your fingers rub along his length still tucked inside, a fresh wave of slick trickling down to your wrist.

“I would’ve been kind,” you tell him nonchalantly, kissing his temple and huffing another laugh when he can’t stop his hips from grinding into you, body begging you to bury your fingers deeper inside him. “But you’ve been such a bad boy.”

He drops with a guttural groan followed by a pathetic whimper, gasping apologies feebly.

You sigh and pull your hand back, your resolve faltering just a little when Donnie whines and cries louder at the action. “You’re being very bad tonight, baby.”

He’s still wearing his pants and you roll your lips to hide a smile as he tugs them down frantically, his cock finally free in the air. His hands grip the arms of his chair so hard that you swear you hear them creak, desperate to touch himself but not wanting to disobey you any further. It’s a bit late to play innocent and good now, and you shoot him an unimpressed look that makes his jaw clench. “Please,” Donnie breathes.

Your hand is still soaked, and you watch him watch you as you raise your fingers to your lips, sticky tendrils trembling as you rub your fingertips together before parting them slowly. Eyes fixed on his, you glide your tongue over his slick, sucking gently and exhaling quietly at the flavour that blooms over your tastebuds. The arms of the chair are definitely creaking now, and you smile coyly as his cock twitches.

“Please.”

As much as you love teasing him into a pathetic frenzy, you remember his weary eyes and decide to put him out of his misery. There’ll be plenty of time to punish Donnie the way he deserves later – lots of edging and whining and begging and very little relief. For now, you’ll give him what he wants.

You kneel between his legs, coquettish as you glance up at him through your lashes; he’s working his jaw, teeth clenched and eyes darting wildly as he barely holds himself together. Grasping his hard cock in your hand, slick and heavy, you begin to pump slowly.

The chirps and churrs that escape him are whining and full of ecstasy, his eyes fluttering as you squeeze your palms around his thick length, hands twisting with an obscene squelch at every stroke. The lab is quiet apart from the wet pumping and his throaty groans, and you wonder if his moaning will be loud enough to wake the others. It wouldn’t surprise you, and the thought makes your hand move faster as you rub your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.

Donnie can’t stop the stutter of his hips, head falling back. “Fuck.” He swears louder as your lips suckle his tip, your name a rasping prayer spilling from his mouth. You flick your tongue, tasting the slightly bitter flavour of his precum and just how soaked he is, evidence of what you do to him coating your face, and he cries noisily when you suddenly take another few inches into your mouth and swallow around him. He’s hitting the back of your throat, and he feels like he’s about to faint from how tight and warm you feel.

A wave of embarrassment hits him as you pull back and smirk, his head still pressed against your flirtatious smile while you continue to work him with your hands. “Please,” he begs for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

“You’re so good at begging,” you praise, eyes sparkling when it makes him moan lewdly. Oh, that definitely woke someone up. He’s back to bucking his hips and because you’re so kind, you let him dictate the pace as you continue pumping.

“So close,” he breathes shakily. “I’m so close, please.”

“Please, what?”

His eyes roll back, and the arms of his chair finally give way, crumbling under his crushing grip as impressions of his hands mould into the metal. Donnie doesn’t stop rocking and whimpering. “Please let me come.”

You kiss the head of his cock once more, delighting in the way he tremors at the whisper of touch. “Be a good boy and come for me, Donatello.”

There’s nothing Donnie loves more than being good for you and he shows this by coming undone the second his name leaves your lips, body jolting and convulsing like he's been struck by lightning as you continue to milk his cock while his orgasm wracks through him. Your face is completely covered, ropes of his come painting your skin as he groans pitifully, the sound agonised and mewling.

It’s almost silent for a few moments, the only noises are Donnie’s wheezing pants and whimpers of oversensitivity, and you watch him quietly. He’s so beautiful like this, blissed out, stress a stranger rather than a constant companion, and you wish you could both stay like this.

The moment is over too soon as the terrapin manages to open his eyes blearily, although they nearly shut again in dizzying satisfaction when he catches sight of your come-smeared cheeks. It’s dripping down your chin, threatening to spill down your neck and to your chest, and a part of you wants to leave it, relishing in the way Donnie is entirely transfixed, but you scoop what you can on your fingers and bring the sticky threads to your mouth instead.

Donnie’s lips part and his breath hitches and it’s your turn to shut your eyes in pleasure, eyes rolling and unable to stop a soft groan as you lick and swallow what he’s given you. “Mean,” he accuses again when you finally open your eyes, and you grin at how faint he sounds.

“Just for you,” you agree and he churrs instinctively, flushing as you snicker. He’s so cute, you think fondly, letting him reach out and grasp you closer, seeking comfort. And so easy.

“I think I need that nap now,” Donnie tells you weakly, and you huff another laugh against his sweaty skin, tasting salt and nuzzling further into him.

You press a loving kiss to his shoulder and reluctantly pull back. “Shower then bed, come on.” His legs are shaky, and you purse your lips to stop from chuckling as he stumbles like a newborn lamb, begrudgingly relenting to leaning against you. “Poor Bambi,” you tease, brushing your lips against his plastron in a loving caress when he grumbles playfully.

Hopefully, no one has been awoken by your night-time activities and, if they have, you hope they’re not up and roaming because you’d really rather not have to bump into any of Donnie’s family with his come still coating your face.

491 notes · View notes

mockerycrow · 7 months

Note

Can I request just some comfort Fluff with soap? Maybe him just being at home with the reader and finally being about to fully relax

— love your writing 🤍

MINE, OH MINE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist — 808 words

a/n: I had actually gotten two of this request, so 🐤 anon, this is for you, too!!! i apologize for my slowness lol this is also short </3

[WARNINGS: None, domestic fluff!]

Johnny has always loved the mornings after he arrives home to you. Of course, he loves that first near rib breaking hug you give each other—he loves the slow and thankful unsteady kiss you share at the front door with his duffel bag at your feet. Johnny loves the way you run your fingers through his messy mohawk during the sweet kiss, the way you lean and melt into him so naturally.

He loves the way you tremble; like you can’t believe he’s with you and he isn’t looking at you through a facetime call. Johnny adores the way you basically refuse to leave his side the rest of the night, barely giving him enough space for him to use the restroom by himself. He doesn’t mind though, because he knows he’s the exact same way. You are clingy the first two days whilst he is clingy all the way up until he has to leave again; neither of you mind.

Johnny loves the way you wear his clothes while he’s away, the way he sees more of his own laundry than yours in the laundry basket by the washing machine down the hall in the laundry room. Johnny loves the way it’s clear when he steps into the bedroom to put his bag away, you hog his side of the bed. He appreciates your insistence on helping him take a bath, his pajamas already in your arms. You know how to massage the knots out of his shoulders and back, you know the exact pattern on how to stroke his hair and tickle his neck to make him incredibly still. Johnny loves the way you’re concerned about his eyes when washing your hair, cupping right about his forehead to prevent any possible droplets of soap to drip down into his tear ducts. Johnny loves that you care enough to squeeze his hair at his hairline to keep it from dripping down his face.

Johnny loves the way you allow him to rub your back once he’s out of the bath and properly dressed; you’re sitting on the bed with the Scot sitting behind you, his legs crossed as his big and rough hands press against the tense muscles of your back through your his shirt. He loves the way you sigh with your lips closed from being content, the way you instinctually lean back into his touch, the way his thumbs press into your shoulder muscles and rub them in circles to relieve the tension that has most certainly built up, deep in your bones and tissue. He loves the way you tilt your head when he peppers soft kisses to your shoulder, leading up to your neck.

What Johnny loves the most, though, is waking up next to you after these nights together, after returning from deployment and missions. He loves waking up with his nose buried into your shoulder with an arm wrapped around you, the other under his own head for comfort. Johnny loves waking up with his head buried in your chest, or maybe your head is buried in his. He loves waking up to see you still sleeping, your lips parted ever so slightly in your sleep, your face devoid of stress and anxiety. If you snore, the man very much treasures every noise coming from you; it’s a sign of life, and he would fall asleep to the sound of it every night if he could.

Johnny likes to run his fingers against your brow ridge and then down your temple to your jaw, his fingertips sliding against your pulse for a moment, just feel your heart go ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum. Sometimes on a rare occasion, you’ll wake before him; which is how he found out you watch him sleep. Of course Johnny isn’t upset when his eyes flutter open and the first thing they do is lock onto yours. He finds out you wait for him to wake up like he waits for you, admiring his face, his chin scar, his hair. You look at him like there’s nothing else in the world and that makes his chest so tight and gooey.

He likes it when you mumble “I can’t understand you” in the mornings, the grogginess thickening his accent. Johnny likes your little smile when his voice rumbles in the morning, the sound penetrating deep into your chest and staying there. Johnny likes it when you kiss him in the morning, despite the fact that his morning breath has always been worse than yours. He likes it when you cup the back of his head in these morning kisses—all he can think about is you, you, you. Johnny likes it when you insist on staying in bed for a bit longer, despite your alarm for work having already gone and past.

Yeah, Johnny loves coming home to you, alright.

785 notes · View notes

yanderemommabean · 3 months

Note

so…. You gonna elaborate on that red room masseuse idea..? 👉👈

I can try!

I like to picture that the masseuse is thorough, every bit of your body is stretched and pressed, given deep tissue massages that blend with pain and pleasure.

When its a more intimate session, you'll find yourself being numbed pleasantly as they work out every knot and kink you have, and then you'll feel yourself become even more undone as their fingers slip inside of you and begin to work your body open, curling and flicking just right as they hold you still (or if you're a fighter, while the padded cuffs hold you!)

You'll become this near-drooling pathetic puppy as they work their wrists sore and strain them, easily holding you in place as your body succumbs to their touch and you make a mess all over their hands.

That doesn't mean that they're finished with you, however. They were paid to make you as relaxed and as loose as possible, so, they have quite a bit of work to do!

-Mommabean

#sometimes smut is hard for me to write and im sorry #it aint you its me #I love smut im just bad at it #mommabean #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yandere lemons #yandere red rooms #yandere red rooms au

324 notes · View notes

auteurdelabre · 3 months

Text

Please, Mister Miller Sequel: Part 6 BFD!Joel x f!Reader

words: 18k (yeah. That's right)

summary: It's Graduation Day and your parents are here... so is Joel...so is an unexpected visitor.

tags/warnings: age gap, infidelity mentioned, p in v, unprotected sex, angst, fluff, namecalling (slut, good girl, sweet girl), oral sex (f receiving), Daddy-kink in parts, public-ish sex, voyeurism, mentions of childhood trauma, shitty parents, clothes ripping, lovingmaking, reader has hair Joel can grab.

a/n: over 18,000 words on this fuckin' monster. If I don't get some damn good reviews I'm gonna riot. In other news, FUCK the next chapter is gonna be a goddam monster too... unless I break it into 2. We'll see. What do you wanna see happen?

masterlist here

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

You wake on graduation day with a knot in your stomach and you know exactly why. The text you received last night. You pick up your phone, eyes scanning the brief message and sighing deeply.

[MOM]Just got in. See you at the ceremony tomorrow. Be sure to wear the dress.

You look over at that ridiculous dress, a totem of innocence and purity and you want to laugh. Innocent? Pure? What a joke. If only she knew the photos of Joel you have on your phone, or the absolutely depraved things you’ve done with him.

As if you’ve summoned him, a text comes through.

[HIM 💜] Can’t wait to see you, bby.

You smile at your phone. You can almost hear his deep voice, the rasping purr.

Can’t wait to see you! xoxoxoxox

Though after the stress of seeing my parents I’m gonna need a massage.

[HIM 💜] Deep tissue? Swedish? Internal?

Oooh Deep Tissue followed by internal please. Lol.

Sarah wakes soon after positively vibrating with excitement.

"I can't wait to see Charlie!" She shouts, jumping up out of bed. "And I can't wait to travel this summer!"

You force a smile but you can't deny you're envious about Sarah's summer. Yours is bound to be a solitary one living back with your parents. You need to get a job back home to help pay for school in the fall.

Perhaps Joel will come and visit you back home once in a while? Or perhaps tonight will be your last rendezvous? It's hard to think of how it can continue, despite what Joel says. He can't exactly come over and meet the parents can he? And your parents will likely have a very close hold on you, wanting to introduce you to the right people, trying to convince you to switch your Masters degree for something more profitable.

Despite how well off your parents are they have made it clear from the start that you'll make your own way in the world. But that’s fine by you because you have scholarships and you’re a hard worker. Living at home means saving up money. Saving up money means moving out away from them.

But until then, it’s long, solitary days back in Chicago with your family.

Sarah gives a stretch before falling onto your bed with an oof. She sits, knees touching yours and smiling broadly.

“We’re almost graduates!”

“I know!”

And funnily enough out of everything with your parents, it’s not that which upsets you the most. It’s the fact that will be no Sarah to look forward to in the fall. No more giggled nights over cheap beer or joined study sessions helping the other make flash cards.

She’s become a touchstone to you. A person whose Snapchat's and text messages through the summers made life bearable when your parents were too much for you. Whose soup delivered to your beside during sick days at school made you feel taken care of. The roommate who dragged you to parties to make you socialize and subsequently introduced you to Conrad, who for a short while made you very happy.

Without Sarah you don’t know who you would be today.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Sarah says gently, her large eyes teary.

"Same here," you say, trying to swallow the tremor in your voice.

"I can't believe we're just gonna suddenly not live together," she says, chin wobbling and the sight of it makes it impossible to stop the tears that slip down your cheeks.

“I know,” you say and now the tears are free flowing and the words you’ve never voiced come out wobbly. “I’ve never had a friend like you. A best friend.”

Sarah lets out a choked sob and the two of you collapse into a sniffling hug that makes your heart swell. You finally pull back long enough to brush the tears from your eyes, the two of you laughing at how emotional you both are.

"You're gonna be traveling all over South America all summer," you remind her with a watery smile. "You won't have time to miss me."

"I will so!" Sarah insists with a friendly push to your shoulder. “I’m gonna get you something really nice too!”

When you put on the white dress later that morning you're struck that you're the vision of chaste. The lace sleeves, the ruffles, the high neckline. It gratifies you greatly when you pull on the most scandalous panties you own, red completely see through. They tie at the hips and they barely cover anything.

You pull them up over your hips and lower the dress over them. The fabric is so thick they can't be seen, but you will.

And soon Joel will too.

///

By the time the ceremony starts hours later you're almost shaking with nerves under your robe and mortarboard. The rasp of the dresses ruffles at the shoulder make you twitch.

Sarah is seated next to you, her eyes scanning behind you. You know she's looking for Joel and Charlie. You already spotted your parents near the back of the large auditorium looking as dour and bored as they always have.

"Oop there he is!" Sarah murmurs as the Provost drones on at the podium. You glance at her before you allow your eyes to drift in the direction she's looking. And there he is, seated beside a beaming Charlie, is Joel.

Your Joel.

He's so handsome you could cry. His hair is longer and curled, looking so soft you want to leap out of your seat to run your fingers through it. He's wearing a button down and he's grinning at both you and Sarah. When she turns around to face the speaker Joel casts you a sly wink that has you flushing.

You feel his eyes on you through most of the ceremony, and when you go up after to collect your diploma you hear his clapping and shouting of your name over the crowd. To anyone else he looks like the supportive parent of his daughter’s friend. But when you cast your eyes into the crowd and see his beaming smile, you feel the pride from where you stand on the stage.

Soon enough the ceremony is over and you and Sarah are official graduates. You give her a tight hug after you toss your caps into the air. You both give yelps as the caps fly around you, laughing as you find yours before handing her the one next to it on the ground.

"Gonna go find my dad," she tells you as you give her one final squeeze. You nod watching her rush through the bustling array of people in search of the man you cannot wait to hold and kiss.You slip through the crowd until you find your parents still seated and looking at the passing crowds with distaste.

You take a deep breath, swallowing before you approach them with a tentative smile.

"Hello Mom, Dad."

The two of them stand simultaneously, giving you a once over before your mother gives you a detached embrace. She’s likely trying to see if you’re wearing the dress she insisted upon. Your father pats your shoulder companionably.

"Congratulations," he tells you with a thin smile. "Graduation with honors."

"Thank you," you say, surprised with the compliment.

"Not valedictorian," he reminds you quickly. "But I suppose there was lots of competition."

Your mother says nothing and you just nod, wanting this interaction to be over as quickly as possible. You notice now that your father is holding a small wooden box with a bow on it. He thrusts it at you.

"Take this and be sure to take care of it."

"Yes sir," you nod, taking the small box from him. You open it up to see an ornate fountain pen sitting on the velvet. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

It’s hideous and nothing like your style. You don’t even write by hand anymore unless it’s for the word jumble. Just another example of how little your parents know about you.

"We'll go to dinner," your mother tells you. "Afterwards we'll collect your things and you can come to the hotel with us. Our flight is first thing in the morning."

“Oh, I thought I was going to spend one more night here at the dorms,” you say, a bit of panic coursing through you. “To finish up packing and everything.”

That had been the plan. You and Joel would have dinner with your families and then meet up at the hotel he sent you. You can’t do that if you’re with your fucking parents at some fancy hotel near the airport.

“That’s a waste of time and I don’t want to be late for the airport,” your mother says with a frown. “You were to have finished packing last night.”

“I underestimated how much I had to pack,” you defer, trying not to sound as concerned as you feel. “I’ll take a taxi to the airport early tomorrow, I promise. I won’t hold you up.”

Your mother goes to deny this request but your father holds up a hand, making her flinch.

“If she’s paying for her taxi who are we to tell her no?” your father says with a shrug. “Let her.”

Your mother silently stews, shaking her head in a short nod. This entire scene is simply a precursor to what awaits you this summer. Their strained marriage, your strained relationship with them. It’s a nightmare.

Moving back home feels both terrifying and humiliating all in one. You hated being under their thumb, but you can't afford rent and school. And despite what they say, you want to pursue your schooling. It makes you happy. It's a small sacrifice to secure your future.

You nod, head held low. It jerks up when you hear your name being called. You glance over your shoulder.

Fuck.

You feel your anxiety grow when Sarah, Charlie and Joel approach.

'I'm so glad that's over!" Sarah says with a laugh. "I don't want to think about how many people wore this gown before me."

You smirk at this before turning to your grim -faced parents.

"You know Sarah," you say to your them, noting that Joel hangs back a moment, watching the scene.

"Of course, hello Sarah," your mom says as your dad gives a tight smile to your roommate. They've seen Sarah plenty of times in the background of your sporadic video calls home.

"This is her boyfriend, Charlie," you say and the shy Charlie offers a timid wave in reply. Your father is looking over Charlie, noting the slump of his shoulders, the shy way he doesn’t make eye contact. You’re positive they’ll have something scathing to say about him during dinner.

You notice Joel staring at you and then your parents. You try to hold back the flush starting at your cheekbones. His hands are at his side and he finally approaches the group, his eyes on your parents.

"Uh, and this is her dad, Mister Miller," you say softly, unable to make eye contact with him. For some pathetic reason you want this to go well. You want them to love Joel as much as you do.

"It's Joel, sir, ma'am," Joel says, all southern manners as he shakes each of their hands. He brushes by you to do so and you can't help but inhale his cologne, dark and spicy.

"Pleasure to meet you," your mother says with a quick once over of what Joel's wearing. When she sees no obvious designer labels you can tell she's already written him off.

Your dad however is intrigued by Joel's appearance, being the only other man in a group of women. He gravitates towards Joel with a little smile on his face.

"So what do you do, Joel?"

"I run a renovation business with my brother," Joel answers with an easy smile that shows his dimple. You melt. He’s so fucking gorgeous. Your father gives a look of clear disapproval at his answer.

"Just the two of you?"

"Ten years ago it was just the two of us and now we oversee a staff of twenty," Joel answers breezily able to overlook your father's open judgment. He’s a humble man, not one prone to bragging. But you know what he’s trying to do, to disarm your parents, to make them like him. And the thought of why he’s doing that has your stomach spinning delightedly.

"Self made man, I respect that," your dad says nodding and you have to stop yourself so you don't beam with pride over at Joel.

"S'how I was raised," Joel shrugs with humility.

"Same here," your dad says with an approving nod. "Built up my law firm from nothing. Now we're one of the biggest in Chicago."

"Impressive," Joel says even though you know he couldn't care less.

His eyes dart to you briefly before landing back on your father. He’s likely noticing how different you are from your parents. They’re all cold, serious calculation while you are smiles and blushes and easy affection.

"Wish you boyfriend took a page for Joel's book here," your dad says with a look in your direction. "That Conrad was raised with a silver spoon firmly lodged in his mouth."

The smile you had on your face falls immediately. You feel your hackles rise up when it feels like all eyes suddenly drift over to you.

Why are they still bringing up Conrad?

"Conrad and I broke up months ago."

"That's what you said at Christmas too," your mother says with a sniff, digging through her purse for her lipstick. "Then by January it was on again."

Your jaw clenches tightly. This is a classic family maneuver, making you feel insecure in your decisions.

"I'm sure you two will find yourselves back in each other's arms soon enough," your father says not bothering to hide his displeasure at the thought. He covers it with a false laugh that your mother smiles politely at.

"I can promise you I won't," you say with a tone bordering on a growl. You're just thankful you haven't seen Conrad at graduation all day.

"I sure hope not," Joel murmurs surprising you all. Even Sarah glances over at this in surprise and you feel Joel's panic. His eyes widen a fraction before his mouth curls into a displeased line and he shrugs.

"Just from what I heard from Sarah I think you deserve much better."

Sarah shoots you an apologetic expression to which you reply with an an embarrassed half shrug. You’re not upset that she talks about you with him. If anything it’s sort of sweet.

"Anyway I better be gettin,' Sarah and Charlie here out to dinner," Joel says taking your hand in his a moment. "Happy graduation to you."

You feel your heart flutter, willing the blush in your cheeks to die down.

"Thanks, Mister Miller."

He gives you a subtle wink before bidding farewell to your parents. Sarah pulls you in for another tight hug.

"Promise me you'll come out and visit me when I get back."

Your eyes fly to Joel behind her shoulder for only a moment before you're nodding and smiling back at her.

"Definitely."

“If she’s not busy playing around in school that is,” your father laughs from behind you before turning his attention on your roommate. “Sarah, you were studying… what again?”

“Computer Sciences,” Sarah answers hesitantly.

“A good career path,” your dad continues, despite everyone in the vicinity being uncomfortable. “Much better than Anthropology. Might as well be Philosophy for all the decent paying jobs it’ll get you.”

Your eyes are wet before you can stop them. You cringe visibly, gaze on the ground as they always are when your parents are around. They have the uncanny ability to make you feel so impossibly worthless, so misunderstood, so unseen for who you truly are.

You can’t even look at Joel you’re so ashamed. You must look so pathetic to everyone.

"Sarah why don't you and Charlie go get the car," Joel murmurs to her with a gentle smile as he hands her the keys to his rental car. "I'll be there in a sec."

Sarah shoots her dad an inscrutable look before shrugging and taking Charlie's hand and Joel's keys. She casts a worried look at your face before she breaks from your group. You watch them disappear into the crowd before your eyes draw back to Joel and suddenly the levity from his face is gone.

He steps towards your parents, dropping his voice. This is a Joel you rarely run into. An angry Joel that’s quiet voice is more terrifying than a shout or scream. The quieter he gets the more nervous you become and right now his voice is a soft purr.

"Now I'm normally not one to tell a man how to speak to his kid, but you're being downright shameful to yours."

Your stomach swoops in both elation and terror. You want to kiss Joel senseless for sticking up for you, but seeing your dad's brows rise has you staring between both of them in shock.

“What did you just say?” your father asks, convinced he’s heard incorrectly.

“I said you're talkin’ to your daughter shamefully,” Joel says speaking slowly and enunciating as if your father is slow. Your mother gives a small gasp at this, her hand going to your father’s shoulder. He shakes it off, his face pinking all over as he glares at Joel.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Your dad seethes.

Your dad takes a step towards Joel, used to people backing down from him at work. But this isn't his law office and Joel has a good three inches on him, not to mention biceps and broad shoulders that would easily pummel your father to dust.

He pauses when Joel steps forward as well, your boyfriend not backing down a fraction.

"Sarah's known your girl for years and we had the pleasure of having her to ours this Christmas," Joel tells your father, looking thunderous. "She's a delight."

"Not so delightful for her parents," your mother chimes in. "You wouldn't understand Mister Miller. Your daughter clearly has ambitions and-"

"And yours doesn't?" Joel bites back. "Sarah told me she wants to be a professor."

Sarah told him no such thing. It was you who told him during your time together. He looks over at you, concerned that he got that incorrect.

"That right?"

"Yeah," you nod, trying not to smile. Joel looks back at your parents and his gaze turns cold again.

"'Side from that, your daughter is smart and talented and funny as hell," Joel sneers at your parents. "And that's nothing compared to her warmth and her heart. And now that I've met you both I don't know where the fuck she got that from."

You are officially fucking Joel Miller's brains out later. Right after you stop the tears pricking the back of your eyes.

"She doesn't need people like you in her life," Joel continues and you know he's saying this part for your benefit despite glaring at your parents. "She's a strong, independent woman that doesn't need anythin' other than herself. And if you both don't get your heads straight, she's gonna walk right outta your life and never look back and it’ll be your loss."

Your parents can only stare at him and your father, always so quick with a harsh comment or jab is silent. His face is so red it's almost mauve. His hands are at fists at his side. Your mother looks like she's about to faint.

You however feel as if your heart is overflowing with your love for Joel in this moment.

Joel turns his eyes on you and you pray no one can see the burning passion he holds for you in that gaze because it seems so obvious to you.

"You wanna grab dinner with us?" Joel asks you, jaw clenched. You know he desperately wants to hold you, to bring you into his arms.

"No it's okay," you tell him with a gentle smile. "You have fun with Sarah and Charlie."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

You see the concern in his dark eyes, the searing depths of his affection. But he's aware that you know your own mind and so he just nods, giving you a small smirk before he's heading away from you.

"Take care."

The second he's out of earshot your parents are tripping over themselves to talk.

"That rude man!"

"Uneducated idiot."

"Did you see what he was wearing? And the way he spoke? Positively barbaric," your mother spits, readjusting the purse on her shoulder and shooting you a levelling look.

Joel’s broad shoulders are disappearing into the crowd, but as if he can feel your gaze he turns. He sees your eyes searching for him and he darts his gaze to your parents, seeing they’re both facing you. He gives you a gentle smile and wink and then he’s gone, leaving you warm and strangely emboldened.

"I don't want you anywhere near that family."

You turn to face your parents who are still fuming about Joel and for some reason you suddenly see them for what they truly are.

Small.

Joel made them small. So small that it seems foolish you were ever afraid of them at all. So small that is laughable to think that they have any control over your life. You owe them nothing. They give you nothing but pain and a love that is built on toxicity.

And suddenly it's so easy to sever that tie between you and them.

"Enough about that horrible man," your father grumbles. "Dinner reservations are-"

"I'm going back to my dorm," you inject with a smile, feeling strangely light. "You two enjoy dinner."

"Excuse me?" Your father is exasperated with everything that has gone on. You see it in the tired look he’s giving you. “Since when?”

"I don't want to have dinner with you," you tell them, unable to stop your smiling from growing. "Either of you. So you two go on. Enjoy."

You've never spoken back to them like this. Never with this serene calm, this positively cheerful countenance. You feel your phone vibrate in your purse and you just know it’s a message from Joel. The thought makes it even easier to stand there staring them down.

Your parents gape at you as the crowd of students mills past, looking at your beaming face. It's your father that speaks first.

"This disrespect you're showing your mother and I is disgusting," he spits. "Your sister-"

"Heather isn't here," you tell them so sharply they wince. "And I'm sick of being compared to her."

You've never mentioned Heather’s name to them. Not in all the years since your sisters death. You've felt too guilty, too scared.

But no more.

"Hey now," your dad begins, his face falling. "We never-"

"I'll never be Heather and that's fine because I'm me," you say over him. "And I don't need the two of you trying to tell me that's a bad thing."

They both stare at you, your mother's jaw is actually dropped, almost cartoonishly so. You realize that this is it between you and them. They brought you into the world and they've made you regret it ever since. They’ve punished you for surviving that car crash instead of Heather. You're done with them.

You thrust the pen and the wooden box it came in back at your father. He takes it in slow shock, as if what's happening is a dream.

"So go enjoy your dinner," you tell them. "And have a safe trip back."

You take the phone from your purse as you stride from them. They call your name but you ignore them, your eyes are already on the text from Joel.

[HIM 💜]: Same hotel as last time. Room #461. Give your name at the front desk. Come when you can. Can’t wait to hold you, beautiful girl.

///

You sit at the bar of the hotel a short while later. Your overnight bag is at your feet and you're still wearing that stupid dress front your parents because you wanted to rush over here. You'd been so desperate to see Joel, to feel his arms around you, his mouth on your flesh.

But then as you strode into the hotel and saw the trendy looking bar you decided that a drink was necessary. A celebration for how you stood up to your parents. And then something Joel said months ago tickled the back of your brain. A comment that has stayed with you.

“Do you think we could pretend for this week? That I'm not married, that you're not my daughter's friend? That we met in a bar one night and found each other attractive and just wanted to spend time together gettin' to know one another?”

You smile as you sit at the bar; legs crossing before you order a gin martini from the bored looking bartender. You pull out your phone, typing hurriedly amongst the chatting patrons and jazzy music over the speakers.

I’m at the bar downstairs.

[HIM 💜] ??

Come down. Dress nice. Xx

Joel walks into the dimly lit bar minutes later, his eyes traveling the length of the space until they get to your face. The smile that breaks out nearly makes you faint at the sight. But you maintain your composure, pretending you don’t notice him until he’s right beside you.

He’s so close you can smell his freshly applied aftershave and the soap he used to wash this morning

“Hey bab-“

"That seat is free for now,” you say coolly pointing to the leather stool next to you. Joel gives you a confused smile, crooked and endearing.

“Huh?”

“Look like my date is running late," you tell him in a flat voice, taking a sip of your drink.

Joel looks a bit offended at your cool tone and lack of smile.

"But perhaps you could keep me company until he arrives."

Joel's mouth curves into a smirk as he catches onto the little game. His eyes dip down the length of your body before he backs up a few paces. He adopts a more seductive look, his eyelids lowering a fraction.

"Hello there, my name's Joel Miller," he replies in a husky purr as he takes the seat next to you at the bar. "And you are quite possibly the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen."

"I accept the compliment Mister Miller," you say with a calm nod, trying not to giggle at the characters you're both playing. You want to play this out as long as possible. There’s something hot about the people around you not knowing you two are together.

"Call me Joel," he replies gently. He holds his hand to you and you take it, noting how warm his tender grip is, how sweetly he rubs your knuckles with his thumb before gently dropping your hand when you pull back.

"Alright Joel," you reply breathlessly. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Joel assures you, eyes raking up and down your form before settling on your eyes. “Pardon me for sayin’, but your date is a fool to let a woman as gorgeous as you sit here alone for more than a second."

“Quite forward of you,” you say with a cool raise of your brow, trying to suppress your smirk. The bartender comes over and takes Joel’s order, quickly sliding him a whisky before going to attend to the other patrons.

“So what’s a beautiful woman like you do for fun?” Joel inquires, taking a sip of his drink.

"Oh I haven’t had much time for fun. My day today was especially taxing," you tell him, swirling the toothpick and olive in your martini glass in what you hope is a seductive manner.

"Oh yeah?" Joel is practically purring. "Tell me all about it."

"Well, first off, I graduated with honors today."

Joel gives an impressed whistle as if he’s not completely aware. "Sexy and smart? Damn, baby, you're somethin' else."

You grin, feeling your cheeks pink in delight.

"Then my parents started in on me right after the ceremony," you say rolling your eyes. "And just when I was gonna fall apart, my boyfriend just let them have it. He told them off. I've never seen anything like it. My parents just stood there and it was so inspiring that when he left, I told them off too."

"Really?" Joel breathes, his face midway between concern and amusement.

"Mhmm. And it felt amazing. So amazing that I wanted to come to this bar and celebrate." You give Joel a sultry look. "Then you came up to me and well, here we are."

Joel smirks cheekily and you feel his hand come to the back of your bar seat.

"Can I tell you somethin’?" Joel asks, lowering his voice so you have to tilt closer to hear. His full lower lip grazes your earlobe when he speaks. "Every man in this bar is hoping you'll go home with him."

He pulls back, his pupils expanding rapidly. You let your hand fall to his knee, rubbing gently as you give him a grin.

"Oh, I'm very discerning," you say coquettishly. "I won't go home with just any man. He has to be the right type. Older, handsome, smart, sweet... The whole package."

You watch Joel's golden cheeks turn pink at the compliment. He takes a deep pull off his whisky. He leans back in his bar stool, looking at you tenderly.

"So Miss Genius who graduated with honors. What's next for you?"

"I'm starting my Masters in the fall," you say with a proud smile as if Joel wasn't already aware. "Got a really good scholarship too. Just have to work a bit too save up for the rest."

"How're you gonna do that when you're in school?" Joel takes another sip.

"Oh, it's all online," you tell him as you drain your own glass. "A lot of them are now with everyone's schedules and how hard it is to make ends meet."

"It is?" Joel says and you can tell he's dropped a bit of the act. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah I needed it to be online so I can work at the same time," you explain, then your brow furrows as something occurs to you. Joel notices immediately.

"What?"

"Oh it's just... I just realized I also need to find a place to rent," you say more to yourself than anything. The character you've embodied slips away from you and you blink rapidly." My parents sure as fuck won't be welcoming me back with open arms after what I said to them. And even if they did I don't want anything from them."

Joel looks at you a long time, his fingers tracing absently along the bar top. He looks like he wants to say something but he holds back.

"But that's not exactly first meeting in a bar kind of talk," you say, lowering your hand to fall atop his and you let your voice drop to a seductive purr. "Tell me about yourself."

“Whadda ya wanna know, beautiful?”

You cross your legs the other direction, facing him more. You notice his eyes flit to your bared legs and then back to your face.

“Well your accent isn’t from around here so what brings you to our fine city, Joel?”

“Here to watch my daughter graduate,” Joel says with a gentle swirl of his drink. “I’m from Texas.”

“You got anyone special in your life, Texas?”

“I do,” Joel nods, eyes like burning coals. “This girl I’ve been seein’ that I’m just crazy about. Can't get her outta my head."

"The sex must be great," you giggle with cheeks flaming.

"No words," Joel admits with a dimpled grin. "But s'not the sex that does it for me."

"No?"

"Nah," Joel shakes his head. "See, she's real smart. Startin' a Master's degree in the fall."

"Wow."

"She's not just smart," Joel shrugs, taking another pull from the bottle. "She's gorgeous too. Fuckin’ stunning."

He watches your eyes drift to his collar, suddenly shy. This emboldens him, makes him lean closer again until his whisky-soaked breath lands in huffs against your cheek.

"I miss how she smells," Joel continues. "I never told her this but I went to the mall and got a bottle of the perfume she wears. I spray it on my pillow from time to time just to make it feel like she’s there."

"You do not!"

"I do," Joel chuckles. "Never smells the same as when she wears it though."

Shit, you can feel your eyes watering.

"And when I talk to her she's the first person who's really listened. She doesn't just nod and wait for her turn to speak. She's the first partner that's ever really wanted to take care of me."

Partner.

"You're easy to take care of," you murmur. "I assume," you add hastily, not wanting to break character.

"So's she," Joel tells you and his face sobers. "The kinda woman I would die to take care of. But I worry. I'm pretty old-"

"Not old-"

"And she's got a whole future in front of her,” Joel says and the levity is gone from his face. “I worry I’d hold her back from it. Hold her back from a lot.”

It takes all your resolve not to throw yourself into his arms right this second. Instead you give him an impossibly gentle smile, leaning your face closer to his.

“You said this woman is smart,” you reason, feeling your pulse flutter. “I think she knows exactly what she wants. And from what it sounds like, she wants you, Joel.”

Joel gazes at you a few moments, his finger absently tracing the rim of his whisky glass.

"You know you're a beautiful woman," he murmurs in a sultry tone, his eyes lowering seductively. "And this may be forward but I'm staying at this hotel and I'd love to take you to my room."

You smile.

"I'd love that, Joel."

///

You’re in each other’s arms seconds after opening the door to your room. Joel crashes his mouth against your and you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He licks into your mouth as he stumbles the two of you towards the bed.

He lowers you gently to the floor, giving a lingering kiss to you before the ruffles of your dress rasping against his shirt distract him.

“Such an innocent looking girl in this dress,” Joel muses, his wide hands sliding down the white fabric as he smiles. “Who’re you tryin’ to fool, baby?”

“I didn’t pick it,” you huff a laugh. “They did.”

The amusement is immediately gone from Joel’s face. Without warning Joel’s hands are at the neckline of your dress. You frown up at him before gasping as he rips the fabric brutally. It tears down the middle, exposing your breasts.

“Joel!”

He turns you around, ripping the skirt from it as well. You’re left in tatters of fabric and you watch as ruffles hit the carpet slowly before looking up at him and laughing. He grins at you, throwing some of the remaining lace fabric in his hands onto the floor.

“Joel,” you laugh loudly. “What the fuck?”

“You don’t have to wear what they tell you to ever again,” he promises you. “You don’t have to listen to another goddam thing they say. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You’re your own woman. And when I take you to bed I’m fucking you, sweet girl. Not some virginal doll version of you that they’ve created in their heads.”

You shiver in anticipation as you feel his warm body behind you, still clothed. You feel Joel’s hands come to your waist, holding you.

“My good girl fucks like a champ,” Joel whispers against your ear. “And she loves my cock doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” you sigh.

“She likes fucking in public,” Joel continues, hands coming to cup your breasts from behind. You feel his hips rubbing against your lower back, cock hard and waiting for you. “She gets wet bein’ a bad girl.”

“Fuck, I do,” you whimper, letting Joel take control of your movements as you go boneless against him. “I really do.”

“That’s who I’m taking to bed,” Joel reminds you, pulling the remaining tatters of your clothing off your body until you’re standing in nothing but the red panties you picked out. His eyes are drawn to them, a smirk bleeding over his face.

“And look at that,” he says as his hands slip down the front. “She’s already wet for me.”

“Always.”

He kneels in front of you and unties your panties at the hip, groaning appreciatively as they flutter to the ground. You’re naked before him, and you feel his eyes take in every square inch of flesh. You hear his clothes fall to the ground in a rustling heap.

His mouth is on your pussy before you even register what he's doing. You feel your body tensing before his large hands come to hold your thighs in place.

"Such a pretty pussy," he groans, delving deeper between your folds. You feel your legs begin to tremble. He begins giving you exquisitely probing kisses between your thighs, chuckling when you begin to tremor.

"Please Joel," you beg quietly. "I need your cock."

He gently ushers you to the bed onto your belly before bracketing your hips with his thighs. Joel's fingers move to the back of your neck, curled into your hair. He moves it up, out of the way so he can press long kisses to the bare flesh of your neck.

"My girl loves gettin’ fucked," Joel grunts out above you. "Ain't nothin' virginal about her."

He groans against your shoulder as he slides into you, hips slowly pressing against the swell of your ass. You sigh, allowing yourself to be pressed into the mattress. You’ve missed this. And judging by his poorly stifled moans, Joel has missed it too.

"Such a good girl," Joel coos, coating himself in your copious arousal. "She missed me."

"Uh huh," you whimper out because all of you has missed Joel. Not just your body but your heart, your mind. You can hear him smile behind you as you thrust yourself back on his length.

"Such a pretty girl," Joel murmurs as he pulls out and then slowly pushes himself in again. He kisses the top of your spine, tongue trailing over your flesh as you moan below him. Your wrists are held by him, resting at your lower back. Your face is tilted, cheek on the sheets as you moan, your vision growing blurry.

You can only writhe under him, body flailing with pleasured arches. Silent screams to keep going to go deeper. Nothing is rushed, everything is tempered and slow and deep. He fills you up so fucking well, so achingly patient.

"She likes having this pretty pussy full 'a me," Joel says as if he has to remind you. "Don't you, baby?"

"Yes yes yes."

"Look at you," he marvels as he stares at you. His free hand slides down your spine, petting you like a cat. You smile drunkenly over your shoulder, watching his hips flexing as he continues to drive himself into you. "You need more, honey?"

You can only give a weak nod, going down on your forearms, presenting yourself to Joel to use.

"Yeah, she needs it harder," Joel murmurs, you feel him flexing, cock sliding through your folds as you whine brokenly. Your head falls forward as your face screws up, brows saddling. Joel’s hot breath is at your ear, his voice a husky purr.

“What do you think your parents would say, knowin’ I’m balls deep in their sweet, innocent girl?” Joel murmurs, tongue coming to trace the shell of your earlobe. “What would they say knowing how you sucked my cock and begged for my come that first time?”

Your body twitches in arousal at that.

“What would they say if they knew their precious little girl was on my camera covered in my come an’ callin’ me Daddy?”

Joel continues to move so slowly within you, extending the pleasure to an almost unbearable level as he glides in and out of your drooling cunt. Joel's fingers begin to circle your clit as his cock thrusts into you.

"Baby," you offer, voice sluggish. "You feel so fucking good."

"Naw sweet girl," Joel says running his nose against your cheek. "That's you. You make me feel so goddam good."

You know what he's not saying and it's not just the sex. That being together feels good. That clinging to one another feels good. That just existing in this moment with each other feels so fucking good.

"Needed this cock didn't you?” Joel asks, hips starting to rock into you with more abandon. "Needed me to take care of you."

His hips are slapping against your ass now, making your eyes cheat to the back of your head. The slapping sound is so visceral, so overtly sexual.

"Yes," you manage to articulate.

"Needed my come?"

You can't even answer that, you just let your eyes shut and feel as the climax courses through your body, making you cry out in broken sounds as Joel fucks into you. You milk his cock as you come down, body boneless. Joel continues, his hips driving forward over and over until-

-a knock at the door sounds.

You hear Joel curse behind you, his body stuttering to a stop. You give a high whine, head twisting to see him over your shoulder. His face is red, his forehead dotted with perspiration. He pulls out of you slowly before reaching for his pants.

"Dinner," Joel says raggedly. He kisses you again before pulling back, going to retrieve the tray whilst trying to hide his erection as you hold back a laugh.

“But you didn’t come,” you remind him, as if it weren’t painfully obvious. Joel gives a breathy chuckle before kissing your sweaty cheek when he returns.

“Plenty a’ time for that, baby.”

Dinner is a steak for each of you with a side of fries, salad a charcuterie tray that Joel thought you’d like. You take a seat on the end of the bed with him and the two of you eat, chatting away about Joel’s flight over here and how he feels about Charlie (bumpy and he’s a good kid).

A short while later when everything is digested he removes the champagne from where it sits over ice and offers to pour you a glass. You’re struck by his thoughtfulness, of all the trouble he went to for you.

“Joel this is so sweet of you.”

“It gets sweeter,” Joel says with a grin. He lifts one of the silver trays and you smile when you see chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. Joel pours you each a flute of the champagne before handing you yours.

"To my genius girlfriend," Joel toasts, clinking his glass to yours. "And her extremely bright future."

"To my impossibly sweet boyfriend," you say smiling dopily. “And his huge heart.”

The two of you sip your champagne, letting the bubbles tickle your tongue. He holds the plate of strawberries out to you but you shake your head.

Joel watches as you place your flute down on the floor before crawling into his lap. He gives a soft chuckle before you're nestled in between his legs. He drains his champagne glass, placing it on the side table.

"I want a different dessert," you breathe, urging his large hand between your legs and gently rocking. "Is that okay?"

His fingers curl into you, finding you wet and waiting. Your thighs spread, giving him better access to penetrate you deeper with his fingers.

"Yeah, that's okay," Joel breathes against your skin. "S'your big day, baby. You tell me what-"

Before he can finish the sentence there's another knock at the door. Joel freezes as if remembering himself. He tugs your robe closed.

"Put on some panties," he urges you. "Your other gift is here."

"Another gift, Joel? And one I need panties for?"

"Trust me," Joel winks at you. "Now put on panties like a good girl even though we know you're anything but."

He swats your ass playfully as you sit on the edge of the bed; watching Joel turn the corner and hearing him open the door. You pull on and re-tie your red panties once more, listening as your boyfriend opens the doors to two strangers you can barely make out in the mirror.

"Oh I thought they were sending two ladies," Joel said, his rumbling voice a twinge irritated.

"So sorry Mister Miller, our usual girl called in sick,” a small redhead says with a concerned look. “Gus is all we had available. But I know you specifically requested deep tissue and he is the best.”

Joel pauses and then nods. “Alright then. Lemme help you with the tables.”

All southern manners Joel brings in the woman’s table despite her protests. You watch as the two masseurs dressed in white pants and white t-shirts set up their tables, bringing out lotion and a portable speaker.

“We’re here for your couples massage,” the woman says grinning from you to Joel. “We hear you’re celebrating your graduation.”

“I am.”

“Congrats,” the man – Gus – says with a patient smile in your direction. “You must be glad it’s over.”

“I guess not glad enough,” you laugh. “I start my Masters in the fall.”

The woman is small with large eyes and a smattering of freckles over her nose. Gus is tall with blonde hair and the straightest teeth you’ve ever seen. He comes over to you with a charismatic nod of his head.

"I take it you’re the one who likes deep tissue?"

“Yes.”

"My name is Gus, I'll be your masseur today. Please let me know if you have any problems with the treatment.”

You see Joel eyeing you from where he stands by his table.

“Greta and I are going to step into the bathroom to give you both some privacy to undress to your comfort and slip under the sheets. Any questions? No? Alright then."

The two of them head into the bathroom, closing the door behind them. You shoot Joel an amused look before the two of you undress to your underwear. You can’t help but let your eyes linger on Joel’s broad naked back as he lays himself on the massage table. He sees your peering as he pulls up the sheet to his waist.

“You gonna stare at me all night?”

You give a sheepish smile before climbing onto the table next to his, raising the blanket up to your shoulders before spinning onto your stomach.

Greta and Gus emerge when Joel calls out that you’re ready. The lights in the hotel room are dimmed and your eyes shut. The scent of lavender washes over you, the oil warmed by Gus’ hands. At the first stroke along your back you give a soft sigh, enjoying the feel of your muscles being taken care of.

You sneak a glance to see Joel laying with his eyes shut tightly, looking more in pain than anything. You hold in a laugh before closing your eyes again and surrendering to the calming sensation of Gus’ large hands on your body.

The massage is divine. So much so that you can't help the little mewls and groans that escape you when Gus hits a particularly good spot. You didn't realize how tense you were.

You hear Joel give a few coughs during the massage, but you barely notice. Greta murmurs something to him and he shakes his head. She nods and you hear Joel give a soft groan when she gets to his lower back.

You’re not the only one feeling good and this pleases you greatly. Joel works so hard, he deserves to be spoiled. With Gus' strong palms pressing into your shoulder blades along with the lavender scented oil you feel transported.

The hour goes by too fast and when the masseurs tell you to relax before getting up you want to cry. You wanted it to keep going on and on.

"Thank you so much," you murmur to Gus, your voice dripping with gratitude.

"We'll just step outside so you can get dressed again," they tell you and Joel in quiet whispers. "Please take your time standing."

You make a soft sighing noise before you feel Joel’s hand skimming along your spine. “That feel good?”

“So good,” you groan, allowing him to help you off the table and into the robe. He sashes it for you before giving you a kiss. He walks over to the door, allowing the masseurs to enter back into the room. They hand you both a glass of water that you drink eagerly.

"We hope you enjoyed your treatment."

“We did,” you enthuse sleepily. You feel so good right now, your limbs heavy in a sleepy way.

"Your boyfriend is so thoughtful," Gus murmurs as he packs up.

"Mhmmm," you say with a wide grin. "I'm very lucky."

You and Joel watch them pack up their things before they’re heading out. When the door is closed you flop down onto the bed, your body so relaxed. It feels heavenly to be touched like that, your muscles soothed.

"You liked that?"Joel says in a deep voice.

"Yeah, felt amazing."

"Yeah?" Joel crawls over to your side of the bed, eyes primal. "I didn't."

Your eyes crack open to see Joel inches from your face. His dark eyes are blown black, his mouth curved into a tight smirk. He throws a leg over your waist, straddling you, his weight heavy and pressing you into the mattress.

"What didn't you like, Mister Miller?"

"Watching that man touchin' you," Joel murmurs, eyes on your waist as he unties your robe.

A fire flames in you at the jealous tinge of his voice. You’ve never really known Joel to be jealous. Even with Conrad he’d been more territorial by the end. But having Joel jealous . . . it’s kind of a turn on.

"He was just doing his job," you say rolling your eyes.

"He was taking his time and starin'," Joel says with a sheepish grin. "I saw him."

"You were watching me the whole time? Weren't you just enjoying your own massage?" You ask with a laugh.

"I did both."

You break into a fit of giggles as Joel's face breaks into a guilty grin

"He was just doing his job," you repeat and almost laugh at the petulant jealousy Joel is displaying.

"I know," Joel says with an embarrassed flush over his cheeks. "I just hated watchin' another man touch you and you makin,' those noises for him."

His hands gently throw open your robe, displaying your breasts to him. He makes a soft noise of appreciation, hand sliding up your ribcage to cup them. You shutter when the thumbs drag along your nipples and they pebble tightly under his touch.

"I wanna be the only one making you feel that good," Joel continues, amusement clear in his face when you begin to start squirming under his touch.

"No one makes me feel as good as you do," you assure him, feeling his cock resting heavily on your belly. "No one."

You groan as he removes the robe from his body before pinning your wrists at either side of your head on the pillow.

"Yeah?" Joel cocks his head to the side, smirking. "I think you need to remind me."

"I'll show you every fucking day if you let me," you groan, hips rolling under him.

"Gonna need you to show me now," he says against your mouth.

"Joel you know I don't want anyone else," you tell him breathlessly. "I just want you."

"Yeah?" Joel's smile is genuine.

"Yeah," you nod, "No one fucks me like you do," you tell him. "No one takes care of me like you do."

"I love takin' care of you," Joel admits, palms cupping your breasts again. He dips his head and rolls his tongue over a stiffened peak and groans when you shiver.

You smile gently as he pulls you to a stand beside the bed. He removes the robe from your shoulders, leaving you beautiful and naked for him. He kisses your shoulder blade reverently, his hands slipping down to cup your ass.

He takes a moment to appraise your exposed flesh before he turns the lights off in the room. You wonder what he's doing when he's taking your hand and guiding you to the large window overlooking the darkened city.

"I'm the only one who takes care of you," Joel murmurs as he twists your body around, facing you to the window. "And I want everyone to know it."

The night is dark; the world dotted with streetlights, restaurant bistro lights, the warm little squares of nearby hotel rooms.

"See them down there?" Joel asks, pointing to the people milling down on the ground below you.

Its groups of patrons down several floors smoking and chatting near the entrance to the hotel bar. Several of them are smoking cigarettes or inhaling vapes. One girl shrieks and stumbles on her heels.

"Yeah."

The people below talk loudly, some tossing their heads back when they laugh.

"You think any of 'em has seen a better pair of tits than these?"

His hands cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples. You shiver, knowing that when Joel's voice drops to that dark baritone something is coming. He kneads your breasts, his mouth coming to kiss your neck, beard tickling the sensitive flesh there as you sigh. The sound of muted laughter breaks you from your reverie.

"Joel someone could see-"

"Maybe," he teases before nibbling gently on your earlobe. "Maybe not."

His fingers are teasing your nipples into hard points, twisting gently until you whimper. Your cunt throbs, anticipation and fear coursing through you.

"Bet if they can see they're thinking how they'd love the chance to fuck this sweet pussy," Joel continues, hand sliding to slip between your legs, fingers curling into your dripping cunt.

"But they don't get to, do they sweet girl?"

You rock against his touch, desperate for the friction. Your hand reaches behind you and goes to his neck as you lean against him, face tilting to his.

"No," you promise him, head falling against his shoulder. "Only you."

"That's right," Joel rasps against your cheek. "Only me."

Your eyes dart down to the group below and you pray that the darkness of the room shields you. You feel Joel hard and twitching at your lower back. He's getting off on this in a major way.

"Let 'em see what they can't have," Joel whispers against your ear. "Let's show 'em what's mine."

Joel's robe which had been shielding you slightly is pulled back from your body. You stand naked, framed by the large window. Your reflection is there, gazing at you like a sultry twin. You twist away from the cool glass, your cheeks flaming.

"Joel-"

"Shhhh," Joel soothes, kissing the top of your head. "S'okay baby. I got you."

His hand comes to your jaw, forcing you to keep your face pointed to the window. Your cheeks burn but you're so wet. You feel his body pressing into yours, herding you closer to the window.

"That's my girl."

He continues like this, pressing you further against the window until your breasts are flattened against the glass. It's cool, and if your nipples weren't already pebbled they would be now.

You allow yourself to be tilted, shifted, your stance widened and your pelvis pressed against the window. Your eyes remain on the figures below, terrified that they'll look up and see you naked and arched.

You hear Joel's robe fall to the ground and know that he too is naked behind you. His wide hand comes to cup your pussy and you whimper, eyes falling shut. You feel him notch himself at the entrance to your cunt.

"Be good for me, now."

Joel slides up into you, the two of you groaning in unison. He makes you feel so full, so deliciously stretched. His fingers begin to worry your clit, tapping and rubbing as he thrusts into you against the window before withdrawing.

"Joel one of them is looking up," you say, even though the people are far away and they could be very well looking at any of the number of hotel rooms.

"What do they see, baby?" Joel groans, shoulders rolling as he slides his fingers along the slick of your clit.

"They see us," you groan, cheeks flaming.

"Uh huh," Joel coos, cock teasing your entrance. "They see you takin' my cock like a good little slut."

This sentence causes your knees to almost buckle and if not for Joel's body pressing you against the window you would have collapsed.

"I want them to see how good my girl looks when I'm fucking her," Joel grunts out, pressing your body against the glass. Your pebbled nipples smoothed against the chilled surface.

"They can't fuck you. Only me."

You whimper before Joel is sliding all the way once more, making your breath come out in little shudders. He picks up the pace, watching as you crest, and your orgasm washing over you. A small one, an appetizer.

You wonder what the people below will see if they look up. A bit of movement in the darkness? Or a young woman pressed luridly against the glass while a broad shouldered older man pounds into her relentlessly?

"They're watchin' me fuck what's mine."

The possessiveness in his statement hits you directly in your cunt, causing you to moan lowly. Joel pins your hands to the window under his, both of your palms flat as he drives into you to the hilt.

"You're all mine," Joel groans. His chin is on your shoulder, digging there. "Say it."

He thrusts brutally into you, his hips unrelenting. You're momentarily distracted before his voice is in your ear, hot and urgent.

"Say it, baby."

"Say what?"

"Say you're mine. I wanna hear it."

His hips are starting to thrust so hard it leaves you breathless, body jolting against the cool glass. It feels so good, so grounding. He presses all of him against you, your body flat against the window and he fucks up into you. His breath is hot at your temple, stirring the hair there.

"I'm yours," you cry out.

"Again."

"I'm yours, baby," you keen, hands slipping down the window, your body going boneless. Your cheek is shifting against the window, your now damp body squeaking against the glass.

"Louder."

"Yours," you punch out as Joel's mouth sucks at your jaw. Every word is now punctuated by Joel's snapping hips you pelvis smacking into the window. "Yours! Yours! Yours!"

He smells so good. Like sweat and the spicy cologne he wore at graduation and the lingering scent of the lavender massage oil. You want to wear that smell on you every day for the rest of your life.

His breath is hot and damp on your neck, teeth scraping against your jaw. Your breasts are pressed tightly against the glass, showing your naked body off to anyone who can see this high up. His fingers rub your clit in gentle circles, palm pressing into your abdomen.

"Again," Joel groans, his hips slamming into you, arousal soaking his length. You're pinned between his gyrating hips and the window. "Say it again."

"Joel I'm yours!" Your voice is cracking as your orgasm starts to creep up on you. "I'm fucking yours! I have been since Christmas!"

You're getting so close to another climax, you're almost there.

"You only want me and my cock" Joel groans, his hands on your hips now as he fucks you brutally, so much that you jump a bit with each thrust, your breasts rasping against the glass. "I'm the only one who fucks you properly."

"You know I only want you," you tell him. "I only want you, Joel. I lo-"

You hold your tongue despite everything. Joel knows how you feel, he must. But the first time you told him he convinced you it was just a connection, not love. You don't want to be the one to say it again.

He grips the back of your neck, forcing your head back and your mouth to graze his. He looks completely fucked out, shiny with sweat, pupils blown, mouth parted.

"Mine," Joel rasps once before his mouth overwhelms you. His lips slot between yours as you let the pleasure overwhelm your core and tightened limbs. Your cries are weak and converging into whines as he continues fucking you.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he growls against your open mouth. “Fucking mine.”

You come down moments later, body boneless and quivering against him. You feel like you're consumed by Joel, his arms around you, his body against yours.

"I ain't done with you yet," he says breathlessly. Before you can say anything he has you in a bridal carry and he's taking you back to the bed. You gaze up at him with adoration, convinced your pupils must be heart shaped at this point.

I love him. I love him.

He sits at the end of the bed, holding you tenderly in his lap, body pliant and ready for whatever he'll offer you. You just want to be with him, near him, always.

His eyes are roving your naked body, the sight of his turgid cock between your legs. He shifts, watching it slip between your lips, grazing the clit.

"Joel," you sigh if only to hear the sound of it.

He seems to remember himself at the sound, his eyes on yours. They go to your mouth, fingers gripping your chin.

"You ready for more, baby?" He asks you, nose rubbing along your own. "Can I give you more?"

His palm trails over your breasts, down your stomach and grazing your inner thigh.

"Yes," you breathe, eyes heavily lidded. "I want more.”

There is a curl at the corner of his full mouth.

"Be polite," Joel murmurs with a smirk. His mouth trails behind your ear, voice a soft huff. "Ask Daddy nicely, baby."

Your eyes don't leave his face, even as your ass begins to roll over his hard and weeping cock. His mouth is at your neck, kissing and sucking.

"Please."

"Please what?" He mutters against your throat.

"P-please," you whimper shakily. "Please fuck me, Daddy."

Joel groans low in his chest at the sound. He takes your hands in his; drawing them up, up until they're laced behind his neck. He leaves them there, his broad hands making their way down your arms, your breasts as you arch, your soft stomach and then between your legs. He holds your soft inner thighs and parts them widely.

Your head tilts back, leaning against his shoulder so you can gaze up at him. He watches you for a moment, eyes tracing your face before he kisses you gently, tongue dabbing against yours as you settle there on his lap, hands on his at your waist.

And now he hooks your thighs over his own, parting both sets of legs widely until you're luridly exposed. Joel's fingertips make a slow trail along the crease of your thigh until they land at your clit. You make a small whimpering noise before settling back against him, eyes shutting in languid pleasure as your head sags forward.

Joel gently pulls your hair, tugging your face up from where it rests against your sternum. The pull is delicious, your heavy eyes staring up into the mirror above the dresser on the opposite wall of the hotel room.

“You're gonna take it like this," he tells your reflection in the mirror. "So we can both see how good you look when you're getting fucked by Daddy."

You whimper and nod, hand splayed over his. Joel is panting heavily behind you, large, dark eyes on yours in the mirror. Your eyes remain on his in the reflection, watching as he helps to lower you onto his cock. From this angle he feels even bigger. You're so slick that when he thrusts inside you think you’ll take him easily, but his size and the angle makes it a strain to take all of him at once.

"You can do it, baby,” Joel soothes as the stretch makes you wince. You can see the flush over your cheeks, the red in Joel's face and chest. His muscles ripple under his beautifully tanned skin.

"Be a good girl for me," Joel whispers against your temple. "Make Daddy feel good."

///

Tess sees rather than hears the two of you first in the reflection of the mirror atop the hotel vanity. At first she's confused when she sees Joel on the edge of the bed facing the mirror. But then she sees the woman in his lap facing away from him, her knees slung over Joel's as he keeps her glistening sex spread wide.

"That's right," Joel rasps against her temple. "I'm gonna take care of you, baby."

His cock is pressing between the woman's thighs, both coated in arousal as he thrusts. Tess can see his middle and ring finger on either side of the woman’s clit, rubbing gentle circles there.

"You always take care of me," the woman on Joel's lap groans, her thighs flexing as Joel drives himself up between her thighs. "Feels so good."

When the woman lets out a husky moan Joel's eyes shutter but they never break from the woman. The woman's face tilts and Joel's eyes are so full of adoration that Tess feels physically sick. She watches as Joel's hands move to cup the woman's face.

"Never felt this good with anyone," Joel tells her softly. "Never."

"Me neither," the woman whimpers before pressing her mouth to his. They kiss slowly, reverently, lovingly even as he fucks up into her. The woman makes a soft whimpering sound, her body quaking as Joel’s cock slides in and out of her. Joel's face breaks. His brows saddle and his thrusting reaches a fever pitch.

"Keep goin'," Joel is slurring. "Uh huh, you take it baby. This is all for you. S'always gonna be for you."

///

You sigh, feeling him bottom out inside you. He lets out a sharp hiss, his hands moving up your body to cup your breasts, pinching the nipples as you moan. He begins to thrust his cock into you, slowly at first, wanting you to acclimatize.

You watch yourselves in the mirror, hypnotized by the way Joel looks as he’s entering you over and over. The way he has your legs spread so wide, so obscene. The sight of Joel’s cock disappearing into your sopping cunt as he kneads your breasts. His eyes are heavy-lidded, but stuck on your face.

“You’re mine,” you tell his reflection, your damp temple pressed against his cheek. “Only mine.”

You don’t feel territorial like Joel, but you want to hear the words from him. There’s something like satisfaction in having Joel say it.

“Yes,” Joel pants, sawing his cock between your thighs. “Only yours.”

Your hands continue to lace around his neck, holding there as he continues to thrust. Your breasts bounce at every jolt, his large hands coming to hold your hips stationary.

"This is your cock baby," he tells you as he pumps into you. "Only you fuck it. Only you."

Your eyes are on his as he thrusts deep and fast, watching your body bounce on his lap, his broad forearms and shoulders caging you against him.

"Joel you feel so fucking good," you moan, eyes closing as he drives himself firmly into you. "No one fucks me like you do."

"That's right," he purrs. "Because I’m yours and your mine n’ Daddy knows how to make his good girl feel good."

He’s fucking up into you with abandon, his hands on your thighs, keeping them apart. He can’t stop staring at the two of you in the mirror, bodies rising and falling together, slick with sweat, moaning together in some feral symphony.

You feel suddenly shy, your face turning to him, forehead pressing against his cheek.

"No no," Joel commands gently, his fingers gently forcing your face to the mirror. "Look at how good you look takin’ my cock, baby."

His face slides next to you, cheeks pressed together and in the mirrors reflection you can see the stark difference in your expressions. Joel is completely un-tethered, eyes narrowed and his teeth bared in a feral smile as he thrusts into you. It's the view of a man taking what he thinks is his, of possession, of desire.

You on the other hand are completely fucked out, hair falling into your glassy eyes, mouth hanging open as you make inhuman noises, your naked body jolting with every thrust. You're totally gone, your body his to mold, hands barely able to hold onto his own around your waist.

"Oh pretty girl," Joel groans heavily into your hair. "You're doin' so good. Keep goin' just like that. Daddy loves those sounds you're makin' just for him."

"Fuck me harder Daddy," you gasp, bouncing along his cock. "Harder."

He holds your thighs tightly, fingertips dimpling the flesh as he holds you open for him to see in the mirror and fucks into you even harder. He looks lost watching as your cunt swallows him time and time again, thrust after thrust. Joel cups your tits again, squeezing them together.

"Joel," you whine, pelvis tilting back and forth as you continue crying out at the ceiling. "I don't wanna stop."

"We're not gonna," Joel promises, the two of you falling into a rhythm as he flexes into you. "We ain’t stoppin’."

He doesn’t know what you mean. That you don’t want to stop seeing him. You look over your shoulder at Joel and you let out a keen when you see how fucked out he looks. You have never wanted him more.

"Joel,” you groan, eyelids fluttering. "I need to come."

"C'mon an’ be a good girl," Joel urges you; planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you two bounce together. "Use your manners."

He's so deep, working so hard that his back is slick with sweat. Your thighs burn as he holds you open but you don't stop, you don't even adjust because the strain adds to it. It makes it feel even deeper, even sharper. His fingers are on your clit again, sliding and rubbing in the way he knows you love.

"That's my girl," Joel croons against your temple, his mouth breaking into a sinful smile against your hair. "So good for me."

"Please Daddy," you moan. "Let me come for you."

You rise and fall together like the waves of an ocean, his arms wrapped around your middle as your arm goes behind your head, fingers clinging to his neck, your forehead against his jaw. Your hips roll over him, sliding back and forth as Joel fucks into you. You stretch your spine out, back arching and face up at the ceiling as you cry out in high, raspy intonations.

///

"Please Daddy, let me come for you."

The woman’s hips flex as she rides his cock. Her chest rises and Joel's left hand moves to cup her breast, his fingertips worrying her nipple. Tess tries to make out the woman's face but her hair is in her face.

"You gonna come on Daddy's cock like a good girl?"

"Yes Daddy," the woman keens.

Tess feels her eyes blow wide at this. She's never heard Joel refer to himself as Daddy, has never had him encourage her to use the term. He's never fucked Tess on the edge of the bed, holding her in his lap and watching their damp bodies writhing together in the mirror. He's never been unrestrained, so recklessly passionate like this.

Tess registers that her marriage is well and truly over not only because the woman is drawing moans from Joel that Tess has never been able to encourage in him in all their time together. It's because Joel has never looked at Tess the same way he's looking at the woman now. The naked look of reverence and desire mixed in one. Never shown himself to Tess like this, never let himself truly let go.

Tess can see Joel's slick cock sliding out and into the woman's bared pussy, deeper and harder with every thrust.

“That’s it baby," Joel whispers against your mouth. "Give it all here. Lemme have it and you can have mine. Look at Daddy when you come for him."

She does, face tilted up to him, crying loudly and bouncing in his lap, her thighs spread wide. Tess sees arousal flooding over Joel's stiff cock still stuffing the woman's tight cunt.

Tess holds in a grimace as Joel grips the woman's hips in his long fingers.

"You like this?" Joel rasps, fingers worrying the woman's clit as she rides him. "Like me holding you open wide so you see how Daddy fucks his good girl?"

Tess watches the woman’s stomach tighten, sees the fresh gush of arousal around Joel’s cock and knows that she’s come. She gives out a shuddering cry of Joel’s name, her fingernails digging into his hands on her hips. Joel watches her face with a look of naked adoration, his mouth curling into a crooked smile.

“Feel good, baby?”

"Yes," she replies and Tess feels her stomach heave when the two share a soft and tender kiss.

The woman says something else but Tess doesn't hear it. The woman's mouth moves to Joel's ear and suddenly he's got her around the waist, holding her against his chest as his cock saws in and out of her dripping slot, the sounds obscene in the quiet hotel room.

"You feel so fuckin’ good," Joel grunts, his voice guttural.

The woman moans, hips rolling. Her palm comes to hold Joel’s cheek. "Wanna make you come, Joel."

And she does. Tess watches Joel’s face go pinched, his hands clutching the woman tightly to him as his hips slap against her from behind. Joel moans, his entire body convulsing a moment before he empties himself into the woman. They both groan at the sensation, bodies so tightly pressed as their hips slowly stutter to a stop.

Tess stares at the woman and Joel, her eyes fixed on the debauched view of his come leaking out of her pussy as she sits spread wide on his lap. Joel's eyes won't leave the woman's face and the woman’s fingers lace through his curls at the base of his scalp.

"I've never wanted someone the way I want you," Joel confesses quietly.

It's not just that comment which infuriates Tess. It's the way Joel's eyes are still gazing into the woman's face. It's an open, loving look without restraint. The woman murmurs something to Joel, something Tess can't hear. And suddenly Tess can't take it another second. She bursts towards them, eyes blazing.

"What the fuck is going on?"

///

You start when you hear Tess ' voice sound out behind you. Instinct tells you to turn around but everything in you stays frozen on Joel's lap as his softening cock slips from you.

"Tess," Joel croaks. "What are-"

He stops himself, realizing that he's still holding your naked body open wide. You know he's hoping the same things you are. That Tess didn't see your face.

Joel snaps into action, he grips the nearby robe and wraps it around you. He slips you off his lap, leaving you shaking on the bed as he pulls on his boxers. He stands between you on the bed and Tess standing watching you hide behind him.

Tess stands at the door of the room, her suitcase in one hand and a hotel key card in the other. In your frenzy neither of you heard the beep of the door as she came in.

"Conference got cancelled," Tess says stiffly. "Thought I'd come surprise you and Sarah. Looks like I really surprised you."

Tess is quiet as you rush off to the bathroom, Joel's come leaking down your leg. You slam the door behind you, leaning against it as you slump to the floor. You can hear their voices outside in the room.

“How did you get in here?”

“I told them my husband was staying here,” Tess hisses back. "Who the fuck was that, Joel?"

"None of your business, Tess.”

You sit against the door, ear pressed even though they're both speaking so loudly you needn’t have bothered.

“Should have known you’d have a little side piece to keep your cock warm.”

“That’s not what she is,” Joel defends angrily. “And you’re not mad at her. I’m the one you were married to.”

“Were?” Tess says choking down a laugh. “Did I miss something Joel? Last time I checked we still were.”

“Tess,” Joel says in a soft voice. “The divorce papers are signed. I don’t even know why you’re here in the first place.”

“I was coming here to see if we could still make it work,” Tess says chagrined. “I have the divorce papers in my bag. I was sitting on mailing them out. Fucking foolish of me when you have a little whore keeping your dick wet.”

“Don’t call her that,” Joel snaps. “I’m serious.”

You wish you could see him through the door. You stand, moving to sit on the toilet, wrapping the robe tighter around you. You clean yourself with one of the towels, feeling sick to your stomach.

“She seemed young,” Tess scoffs. “Now I understand the fascination. Bet you love eating her pussy don’t you? She taste good, Joel? Sweet?”

Joel doesn’t answer and you’re frankly shocked at how Tess is speaking. She didn’t seem this kind of person when you met her at Christmas.

“She just love sucking your cock?” Tess continues and you can feel Joel’s shame through the door. “Does she know you have a daughter about her age?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you known her for, Joel?”

Silence. The kind of silence that is more incriminating

Say something Joel. Something. Anything.

And then he does say something. But it’s not what you expect.

“No, Tess don’t-“

The door to the bathroom is thrust open and Tess stands in the doorway, staring down at you. You feel your soul leave your body when her see her register who you are.

"You?" She chokes out. "You?!"

"I'm so sorry," you say and the tears are spilling from your eyes. "I'm so so sorry."

Because you are.

You feel so deeply ashamed with yourself. All the times you told yourself it was a fling and it didn’t matter. All the times you pushed Tess from your mind because she wasn’t there to remind you that you were doing something incredibly wrong. And you feel so much guilt because you want her husband, you love him.

Tess backs into the room, her eyes blown wide as she looks at you emerging from the bathroom, face blotchy and eyes wet with tears.

“I welcomed you into my home,” Tess whispers in horror, her face white. “I cooked for you, I- Oh my God – is this… did it start back then?” She whirls on Joel looking ashamedly at his feet. “How long has this been going on, Joel? Tell me the fucking truth.”

Joel’s voice is low and quiet.

“Christmas.”

“Christmas,” Tess echoes weakly. “You’ve been fucking this little college slut for months?”

“Hey,” Joel says sharply, inadvertently coming to stand between Tess and the bed, shielding you.

“Big, strong protector,” Tess says with a disgusted laugh. She gives you a hollow look. “Until he gets bored of you and finds another college girl to fuck, right?”

“Tess, I know you’re hurtin’ and I’m sorry,” Joel says truthfully. “But you need to stop.”

“Did you fuck her in our bed?”

Joel can’t reply and you feel your stomach drop when Tess shake her head before sneering over at you, giving you a once over full of derision. Then her eyes are back on Joel’s increasingly red face.

“You get that you’re just some older guy she’ll fuck until she gets bored. A story she’ll look back on and laugh about with her age appropriate husband in about ten years.”

"Tess-"

"You feel good knowing you threw away our entire marriage for some college pussy?"

“Stop, please,” you beg, hating the look that’s clouding Joel’s face. That scared, uncertain look. “Please, Tess.”

"Why?" Tess scoffs angrily and you flinch at the way she hisses at you. “You don’t like hearing the truth? How you broke up a family because you wanted to fuck my husband?”

You hate knowing that you’ve hurt Tess so badly. You just never thought she would find out.

“Tess stop,” Joel says and now his voice is that same dark whisper. The scary one that sets goosebumps across your body. “I was the one that cheated on you. Be mad at me.”

“Oh don’t worry about that, I am,” Tess says with a shallow laugh before pointing at you with the key card. "But she played an equal part in this. If she’s old enough to have an affair with my husband, she’s old enough to hear this. You understand that you’re a midlife crisis, right? Most men get sportscars, but I guess Joel Miller’s not like most men.”

“She ain’t that,” Joel tells Tess and you feel the anger mixed with shame radiating off of him.

“No?” Tess’s mouth is curled into a ghoulish expression of amusement. “Why Joel? Are you in love with her or something?”

"Yes."

The speed in which he replies shocks not only Tess but you as well. Your head jerks to the side to face him. His eyes go to your face, the feeling so clear in his gaze. Your heart swells at the sight of it despite everything.

“Of course you are,” Tess laughs cruelly. “Joel Miller the romantic.”

“Tess-“

“You two are just fucking around, ruining marriages and families and I’m supposed to believe this is some love story for the ages?” Tess scowls as she collapses into the chair nearest to her. “Are you fucking deluded?”

You chance a glance over at Joel to see his jaw clenched and his dark eyes far away. Part of you wants to beg Tess’s forgiveness; the other part wants to slap her for making Joel look so beaten down.

"How many others have there been?" Tess demands. You watch Joel's cheeks flame and your stomach drops at the length of time it takes him to answer. Were there others? You never even thought to ask.

"Just her," he finally utters quietly. "Only wanted her."

You realize now his hesitancy. If there had been several you'd just be a number Tess could forget about. But as it is there is only you, which means something more. Tess turns her ire on you now, her light eyes flashing.

"How could you do this to your friend?" Tess demands of you. "Forget about me, how could you do this to Sarah? How could you break up her family?"

You feel sick to your stomach. All the minutes and hours and weeks and months you spent pining for Joel, did you ever really consider the true ramifications? Or the people you would both hurt? Or were you just so intent on having him that everything else was pushed aside?

"Tess, it wasn't her," Joel assures her. "You and I had been unhappy long before Christmas. Meeting her just... It just confirmed how I'd been feeling for months."

“We were married. We were happy.”

"Were we really happy Tess?" Joel challenges. “I wanted more kids and you didn’t.”

“She’s gonna give you kids, is that it?”

Joel ignores this question, can tell without looking over at you that there must be a stricken expression on your face.

"When you weren't at work and it was just us we barely spent time together. And when we did most of the time we'd argue."

"But there were good times," Tess defends.

"I know," Joel nods. "S'why I didn't break things off right away."

You don't like hearing this. Hearing how Joel wasn't sure. Hearing about his life when you weren't there. It makes your face crumple when you hear it. Joel must notice because his face is turning to you.

"But I couldn't forget her."

He goes to reach for you but stops when he hears Tess give a disgusted scoff. Your arms are wrapped around your body, wishing more than anything this moment was over. But Tess isn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

“And what did Sarah have to say about this?” Tess demands. “Something tells me she wouldn’t have been thrilled to see her best friend and her father fucking.”

The dual silence of you and Joel tells her everything.

“Ohhh….She doesn’t know,” Tess says in a mock hushed tone. “Well, maybe someone should tell her.”

You watch in horror as Tess reaches for her cell phone in her purse. Your stomach lurches and you dart forward, ignoring Joel’s hand grazing your waist as you pass him.

"Tess please," you beg, hand outstretched. "You can hate me and Joel as much as you want. But please think of how telling her like this will affect Sarah.”

Tess stares at you, a sinister curl of amusement on her lips. “Like you thought about how it would affect Sarah when you started fucking her dad?”

No, you never thought of Sarah. All you thought about was your own selfish pleasure. How were you so fucking deluded to think that loving Joel would be enough? Tess is one thing – according to him their marriage was already suffering and aside from this moment you never thought you’d have to see her.

But Sarah? Sarah was innocent in all of this. Sarah your only true friend.

“I didn’t because I’m a selfish piece of shit,” you tell her firmly. “But you aren’t.”

“Oh no?” Tess is almost laughing at your solemnity.

“No,” you shake your head. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were the kind of person to do the right thing. And you know that telling Sarah about us like this is wrong. It would break her heart. Sarah doesn't deserve this. She's never done anything to you. Ever."

“And I deserved it?” Tess challenges. “I deserved to have some little college slut fuck my husband?”

The tears are falling down, hot and steady down your warm cheeks. Because she has every right to hate you both. You did something wrong, so impossibly wrong. You shake your head lightly, trying to swallow more of the tears.

“No, you didn’t.”

You feel your cheeks burn with shame and guilt as you lower yourself to your knees, head bowed. You face her, subservient in your stance, ignoring as Joel calls your name. Your fold your hands in front of you, lacing the fingers together as if in prayer.

“Tess I’m so so sorry for what we did. I know that an apology means nothing. It means less than nothing,” you say, debasing yourself. “I understand you hating me for the rest of your life. What we did was fucking wrong, there’s no way around that. I don’t know how to fix it. I really don’t.”

You take a deep breath and try to swallow down the cracking sobs starting in your rib cage.

“But Tess I’m begging you, please don’t tell Sarah. Sarah loves Joel so much, finding out this way would devastate her. She doesn’t deserve to pay for our fuck up. She doesn’t deserve to learn about it like this, please don’t tell Sarah. Please.”

The sobs begin in earnest and you try to swallow them down once more, your chest heaving. When you finally glance up you can see that Tess is glassy-eyed and ignoring you there on the floor.

“I wanna talk in private,” Tess says, looking at Joel. “You owe me that much.”

You continue sitting there on the floor, tears streaming down your face until you feel Joel’s hand gently alight on your shoulder.

"Can you give us a minute?" Joel asks you. "I'll send a text."

For some reason this hurts more than anything. To know that you’re the one being asked to leave in all of this. And yet you nod, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and leaving quickly, tightening the robe around your middle.

///

You’re sitting in the pool area, lying on one of the puffy chaise lounges. It’s been two hours of scrolling your phone and wiping away tears as you try to face away from the families splashing around in the pool.

Joel loves you.

Sarah is going to hate you.

Joel loves you.

You keep waiting for Sarah to call you in tears, screaming at you for ruining her life. When your phone buzzes you feel your stomach jump. You raise the screen to your face with shaking fingers.

[HIM 💜]: She left.

The trudge back to the hotel room is a slow one, your heart heavy. There’s no way Joel is going to want to continue this with you. And you’ve realized now that it’s going to break your fucking heart when he ends things.

You slip past him when the door opens, trying to mask your tears. You go to the bed, looking at the rumpled sheets and your red panties strewn to the side. It doesn’t look like the bed of two people in love. It looks like the bed of two selfish people.

Joel rests a hand on the doorknob, shoulders hunched at his ears. You can see the red at the back of his neck when you look back at him.

“Is she gonna tell Sarah?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Joel says it firmly, without question and you believe him. You want to ask him what he and Tess talked about, but at the same time you don’t want to know. You don’t want to think about how hurt she was.

And now you can’t stop thinking about Joel loving you. He loves you. Love. And you love him. This should be a time of celebration. But instead you stand there, eyes on his feet. Because love won’t be enough. He won’t want this with you, not at such a cost.

You blink back the tears and try to steady your voice.

“I guess we’re over, then?”

You make a motion between your bodies, waiting for Joel’s agreement. When several moments pass in silence you finally raise your gaze to Joel’s. He’s put a t-shirt on, but he still wears his boxers. He looks so vulnerable, despite his breadth and you can see the gloss that has begun in his dark eyes.

"Baby, come here."

Without thought you cross the room and move into his waiting embrace, arms banding around his waist. He holds you tightly to him, your head tucked under his chin. He sways you gently from side to side, his heart under your ear.

“I don’t want us to be over,” he murmurs against the crown of your head. “But I understand if this is too much for you.”

You hold him tighter, the tears no longer flowing. Being in his arms feels so safe and so right. You hate how right it feels in Joel Miller’s arms. If it felt even a tiny bit awful you could turn away, you could walk from this hotel and never give him a second thought. As it is, you feel something deep and eternal for him.

"Did you mean it? About loving me?"

Joel’s large hands move to cup your face, turning your red-rimmed eyes up to face him. He stares at you in that impossibly soft way that only Joel Miller possesses. The kind of way that spells affection in the flecks of honey in his iris, the way that shows adoration in the round of his pupils.

"Yeah," Joel whispers and suddenly he looks like a lost little boy as you stare up at him. "Is that okay?"

It takes everything in you not to cry again. You’re sick of crying. You want to remember how Joel is looking down at you now. How your hands lay against his waist, holding him. How in this moment you’ve never loved anyone more.

"Yes,” you finally whisper back. “Joel, I've loved you for so long."

“I know,” Joel admits, his eyes glassy. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, baby. Was just scared to admit it, I think.”

His mouth finds yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as you wrap your arms around his waist once more. There’s no heat in this kiss, just a deep abiding love that you sense with every soft dab of his lips against yours.

“I wanna take care of you,” Joel murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I want you to come back to Austin with me. I want you to come stay with me for the summer. Please say yes."

Your stomach jumps in both anticipation and tremendous fear. This is a huge step for the both of you. And you’re scared that Joel is offering this because of how horrible this evening was with Tess. You bring a thumb to stroke his cheek, smiling up at him gently.

“Let’s go to bed,” you say.

Joel blinks before nodding, pressing a full-lipped kiss to your mouth before taking your hand in his and leading you to the bed. The two of you are completely wiped from everything. Still wearing your robe and Joel in his boxers, the two of you collapse into bed. Joel flicks off the light and draws you to him.

“I love you,” Joel murmurs against your forehead. Your heart sings at the sound of it and your mouth curls into a soft, contented smile.

///

You wake the next morning with a strange sensation. A mixture of joy an apprehension as you open your eyes. Joel is already awake, balancing on one arm and looking at you with a gentle smile. His hair is mussed from sleep, the curls flattened on one side. That shouldn’t make your heart jump with affection, but it does.

“Was wondering when you’d wake up. You were out like a light.”

“Shit,” you say, propping yourself onto your elbows. “What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Joel soothes, brushing the hair from your eyes. “I got us a late checkout.”

“Thanks.”

Your eyes drop to the space between you on the bed. A small sliver of waved blankets that in this moment feel like a canyon. You smooth your hands over it, feeling the soft texture. Joel watches this, you can feel his eyes on you. He knows you so well.

“What are you thinkin’ about?”

“About what you asked me last night,” you admit. “About coming to Austin with you.”

Joel grows serious, taking a slow inhale. “And?”

“I’m worried you’re saying it because of everything with Tess,” you admit, fingers plucking the bed sheets absently. “And I don’t want that. I want it to be because it’s something you want, not something you feel obligated to do.”

Joel launches himself off of the bed before you can finish your thought. You watch his broad shoulders bared, his body covered in only his boxers as he knees down, rummaging for something in his suitcase.

You stare at him puzzled when he comes back with an envelope and a small square box. He sits across from you on the bed, his large frame comically child-like in the cross-legged pose. He passes you the envelope first.

You open it, confused when you pull out a long piece of paper until you realize what you’re looking at. An airline ticket to Austin and your name in on it. Your eyes dart in surprise to Joel’s open gaze. He sits with his hands folded on his muscled thighs. He rubs the palms along them a few times before nervously swallowing.

“Wanted this for a long time,” he tells you. “Longer than I wanna admit.”

A smile breaks out over your features. This wasn’t a last minute plan to smooth over what happened last night. He wanted you to come back with him to Austin for a while. Living with him for an entire summer.

“I was gonna ask you properly last night,” he admits. “The same time I gave you this.”

Joel takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, stroking sweetly before motioning to the box between the two of you. It's a small square box in a color you know too well: Tiffany blue wrapped in a black ribbon.

"Open it."

You do slowly, feeling nervous with Joel's gaze on you. The ribbon drifts to the floor until all you're left with is a small square box with Tiffany & Co embossed on the front. You let your fingers trail over the grooves of the letters.

He wouldn't propose.

No it's too early. It's too much. You can't possibly say yes can you? No, it's insane. His divorce isn't even finalized yet. Your trembling fingers open the box, eyes widening until you see what rests inside.

Relief floods you when you see a delicate silver chain and pendant sitting on the velvet cushion inside. It's simple; a thin x with diamonds in each of the empty spaces and the shape is unmistakable.

A snowflake.

It's on a slender silver chain that sparkles in the light as you remove it from the velvet cushion.

"Here, lemme put it on ya," Joel murmurs, taking the delicate jewelry in his wide fingers. You twist away from him, sliding your hair over one shoulder. You feel him fumble with it against the nape of your neck and you hold in a shiver at the sensation.

"Perfect," be murmurs, tracing a finger along the chain.

"It's just ... This is so much, Joel. The necklace, the hotel, the massage.” Guilt gnaws at your belly. “Did you get anything for Sarah?"

Joel's head tilts slightly as he regards you. "You're worried I didn't get anything for Sarah?"

"I guess ...” you falter. “I just ..."

"I got her a ring made from one that used to belong to her mom. I paid for her and Charlie to stay at a swanky hotel in town for the weekend," Joel promises, kissing the worry from between your brows. "Plus a few other things that ain't your business because she's my kid."

He says the last part in a jesting tone, pinching the end of your nose in his knuckles and squeezing gently a moment. Relief floods you at this admission.

"Good."

Joel surveys you a moment, features drawn. He takes your hand in his, wide thumb tracing the back.

"My daughter will always be my biggest priority," Joel informs you, concern trailing over his strong features. "You never have to worry about that."

"Alright."

Joel swallows.

"But you also need to understand it, too. I need you to be okay with it, cuz that ain't changing. She's always gonna be my kid."

Adoration flows from you as you look at Joel. The difference between he and your parents rearing is so stark it fills your eyes with tears.

"I think that's why I fell for you from the start," you admit without thinking. "Because of how well you love her."

Joel's face is pure sweetness as he looks at you.

"But that doesn't mean you're not a priority too," he tells you with earnestness. "You're my girl."

His large palms come to either side of your jaw, tilting your mouth to his. His girl. How long did you pine over Joel Miller dreaming of a life where you're his? And now you are. Here in his arms, kissing him fiercely.

You break apart, flushed happily. You look back at your necklace, tracing the small pendant before turning it over. Your brows knit together in confusion as you see the engraved letter on the back.

"H?"

"For Heather," Joel tells you shyly. "I just know she'd be proud of you, baby. Maybe even more than me."

And that’s it, the moment you fall so hard for Joel Miller than no one could catch you. Your heart overflows with affection for him as you launch yourself into his lap, holding him. Everything about him feels right as he pulls you against him, his breathing soft and steady.

“I wanna come back to Austin with you Joel,” you tell him with a watery smile. “I wanna spend the summer with you.”

“Are you sure, baby?” Joel asks, concern clear in his features. “I don’t wanna pressure-“

“I’m sure,” you answer, your mouth kissing his jaw, then his lips. You pull back because there is something so engaging about Joel’s eyes. You see everything in the depths of his large, chocolate colored gaze.

"Joel... How do you just..."

"Just what?"

"See me," you say softly. You can’t find another word to describe it. All the things you’ve tried to keep hidden, the secrets, the shame, he sees it all. And he loves you through all of it.

"Same way you see me," Joel offers.

Joel's eyes are so impossibly soft as he stares at you and when you press your mouth to his, he's so warm. You’re convinced that if you cut your veins they would bleed the color of Joel’s eyes, that your heart is wrapped up in his flesh, that you are a part of him and he’s a part of you.

"Make love to me," you whisper against his lips.

You don't know that it's possible considering all that’s gone on in the last twenty four hours. But you need to feel him inside you right now; you need to be as physically close as two people can be.

"Of course," Joel murmurs back his nose gently tracing yours. "Whatever my girl wants."

Any fears that he won't be able to perform are allayed when he brings your thigh over his and you feel his hardened cock at your entrance. You both shimmy out of your under things, kicking them onto the hotel floor. He removes the robe from your body and on his side he holds you, thumb rubbing the plush of your hips. He urges your thigh over his hip and then he slides into you slowly, both of you gasping softly at the sensation of his cock and your cunt meeting in pleasure.

“I love you so much sweet girl,” he tells you. “So much.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, eyes locked on his. “I've never really been in love before."

And it's true, you realize as Joel slowly and sweetly makes love to you that you've never actually loved anyone. You thought you loved Conrad but that was an infatuation. He never saw you like Joel does. He never held you like Joel is holding you now.

He holds you like a cherished artwork, like something precious. Like you’re worth something, even though your whole life you’ve been told the opposite.

His mouth goes to your neck, kissing and licking there as you whimper against him. He gently moves you onto your back and you let him take control of the motion. Your hands lace in Joel’s at the side of your head, holding you in place, his body sliding along yours.

"Gonna hold you like this every day in Austin," Joel breathes as he continues to slowly thrust into you deeply from this angle. "Gonna cook for you. Gonna take you on dates. I’m gonna take care of you."

"I want that too," you breathe, mouth over his, swallowing his cries. "Wanna be with you so much, Joel.”

He notices your eyes closed tightly, body rocking gently against his. He lets this happen a few moments, watching as your body begins to flush and your brows saddle. But soon he feels himself approaching his climax and he needs your gaze.

"Eyes open for me, pretty girl," he murmurs and your eyes crack open at his request.

The two of you stare deeply into one another's eyes, the moment heavy. You can see Joel's mouth starting to quiver as he breathes, something he does when he's about to come. He holds you tighter to him and neither of you can look away when your climaxes overtakes you.

He spills into you while crying out your name, you follow soon after with his name half-uttered before your groans of pleasure become too much. You both stay like this a moment, he soft but still buried within you. You kiss fiercely, desire flooding you both at the knowledge that this is only the beginning.

“Better get you to the dorm,” Joel offers. “Gotta pack for Austin… As long as that’s still something you want?”

You see the indecision in his eyes, the continued concern that he’s forcing you into something you don’t want. You hum a soothing noise before you press a palm to his whiskery cheek, watching him go from nervous to calm at your touch.

“I can’t wait.”

-----------

taglist:

@fanficaddictmwah @southernbe @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @604to647 @ashleyfilm @survivingandenduring @weirdoneattheparty @lilipads @cinnamongorll @katiexpunk @emotrash1 @booksaremyfood @mellymbee @ashleyfilm @magpiepills @sptbear @getitoutofmymind

229 notes · View notes

valkyriexo · 5 days

Text

Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 3 - Knock, Knock

ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.

ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids

ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery

ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ;Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS; None.

EPISODE WORD COUNT; 4K

AUTHOR'S NOTE ; Episode 3! Thank you for your kind comments on the story so far!

If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me. Remember none of this is real. It is a story. It is fiction. You can choose not to read it if it will make you uncomfortable.

Master Post | Teaser | Suspect Cards

As the stress of recent events weighed heavily on your shoulders, Chan's suggestion of getting a massage seemed like a welcomed reprieve. With a gentle yet insistent nudge, he convinced you to take some time for yourself, to relax and unwind amidst the chaos that surrounded you.

As you stepped into the serene sanctuary of the spa, a gentle wave of calmness washed over you. The soft glow of ambient lighting cast a warm, inviting hue across the reception area, where the tranquil melody of gentle instrumental music floated through the air, wrapping you in a cocoon of tranquility.

The receptionist, a picture of hospitality and grace, greeted you with a welcoming smile as you approached.

"Welcome to Serenity Spa," she said, her voice as soothing as a gentle breeze. "How may I assist you today?"

Your shoulders sagged with the weight of recent events, and with a grateful exhale, you replied, "I'm here for a massage, just looking to relieve some stress."

"Of course," the receptionist nodded empathetically. "We have a variety of options to suit your needs. Would you prefer a deep tissue massage to work out those knots, or perhaps a relaxing Swedish massage to melt away tension?"

"Swedish sounds perfect," you replied, already feeling the tension in your muscles easing at the mere thought.

With a knowing smile, the receptionist gestured toward a cozy seating area adorned with plush armchairs and a small table set with a delicate arrangement of wine and chocolates.

"While you wait for your therapist, please feel free to indulge in some refreshments." Gratefully accepting the offer, you sank into one of the inviting armchairs, the promise of relaxation tantalizingly close. With a sigh of contentment, you selected a piece of rich, dark chocolate, savoring its velvety sweetness as you awaited your moment of bliss.

As you enjoyed the decadent treat, the receptionist returned with a glass of chilled white wine, its crisp aroma mingling with the faint scent of lavender that permeated the air.

"Here you go," she said with a warm smile, setting the glass down on the table before you. "I hope this adds to your relaxation experience."

"Thank you," you replied, lifting the glass to your lips and taking a slow sip, letting the cool liquid soothe your parched throat. The combination of the wine's subtle sweetness and the indulgent chocolate seemed to further lull your senses into a state of tranquil repose.

Before long, the receptionist gestured gracefully towards the hallway. "Your treatment room is ready now. Please follow me."

You followed her down the hallway, the gentle glow of candlelight guiding your way. Upon reaching the treatment room, she opened the door and gestured for you to enter. "Please make yourself comfortable in the robe provided and lay face down on the massage table. Your therapist will be with you shortly."

Gratefully, you slipped into the plush robe, its soft fabric enveloping you in warmth and comfort. Taking a moment to admire the serene ambiance of the room, you then obediently climbed onto the massage table, settling onto the soft linens and resting your head on the fluffy pillow.

As you closed your eyes and let out a sigh of anticipation, the scent of lavender filled your senses, calming your mind and soothing your soul.

As the masseuse entered the room, a serene presence with a gentle demeanor, they didn't utter a single word. Instead, they simply proceeded to perform the massage with practiced precision.

Under their skilled hands, the tension in your muscles slowly began to melt away, replaced by a blissful sensation of relaxation. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be fully present in the moment, letting go of the worries that had been weighing you down. Each knead and stroke seemed to coax the stress from your muscles, leaving you feeling weightless and serene.

After what felt like both an eternity and a fleeting moment, the massage drew to a close, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Chan for his thoughtful suggestion. With a soft sigh, you gathered your belongings and prepared to leave, feeling lighter and more rejuvenated than you had in ages.

But as soon as you turned to leave, your eyes caught sight of something unexpected—a small piece of paper tucked beneath the edge of the massage table. Curious, you reached for it, unfolding the note with trembling fingers.

A chill ran down your spine as you realized the significance of the message.

The person had been here.

Fear clenched at your heart as you realized the depths of their obsession. No longer were they content with mere gifts and letters—they had infiltrated your sanctuary.

The once tranquil atmosphere of the spa now felt suffocating, oppressive even, as though the walls themselves were closing in around you.

You couldn't stay here any longer. You pocketed the note, your hands trembling as you gathered your belongings. You hastily exited the spa, the note burning a hole in your pocket as you raced towards the waiting car. Your bodyguard, ever vigilant, sprinted behind you, his pace matching your frantic steps as you both hurried to safety.

Breathless and heart pounding, you finally reached the car, flinging open the door and practically diving inside. Your bodyguard wasted no time, slamming the door shut before taking his place behind the wheel, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger.

As the car roared to life, you couldn't shake the feeling of eyes boring into your back, the weight of the person's gaze following you even as you sped away from the scene. Each passing moment only heightened your sense of dread, the knowledge that you were being watched a constant, suffocating presence.

When you finally arrived home, relief flooded through you as you burst through the door, the familiar surroundings offering a fleeting sense of security. But your moment of respite was short-lived, shattered by the sight of Felix and Chan in the living room. You could hear the other boys nearby in the other room playing among us.

"How was the spa? Did you have fun?" Chan's eyes remained glued to the screen, not yet registering the distress etched on your face.

Their expressions shifted from concern to alarm as they both looked up at you, their voices falling silent as they took in your tear-streaked face. The concern etched on their features deepened as they realized the distress that lingered in your eyes. Their voices blended together in a chorus of worry.

"What happened?"

"Are you okay?" Chan's voice was laced with concern as he moved to comfort you, his arms outstretched in a gesture of solace.

But you couldn't find the words to explain, couldn't bring yourself to admit the full extent of the danger that loomed over you. Instead, you collapsed into Chan's embrace.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, you realized that the stalker's reach extended far beyond mere letters and gifts. And as you clung to Chan, seeking solace in his comforting embrace, you couldn't shake the feeling that the worst was yet to come.

Feeling the weight of your silence, Chan gently pulled back to look into your eyes, his expression filled with compassion and understanding. "Talk to me," he urged softly.

With a trembling hand, you retrieved the crumpled note from your pocket, the words burning with accusation.

Wordlessly, you handed the note to Chan, watching as his expression shifted from concern to alarm as he read the stark words scrawled upon the paper. The color drained from his face, his eyes widening in disbelief as he realized the gravity of the situation.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked up at you

You swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to explain, but the words caught in your throat. "I-I found it at the spa," you managed to choke out, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

Chan's grip tightened around you, his brows furrowing in concern. "Did you see anyone? Anyone who could have left this?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

You shook your head, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over you. "No, I didn't see anyone," you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

Chan's expression darkened, his jaw tensing as he processed your words. He glanced at the crumpled note in his hand, then back at you, a look of realization dawning on his face. "You've been on edge the past few days," he said slowly, waving the note. "Is this why?"

You hesitated, the lump in your throat growing larger. "Yes," you admitted softly, tears still streaming down your cheeks. "This isn't the first note I've received."

Chan's eyes widened in shock, a mixture of anger and hurt crossing his features. "What?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Why didn't you tell me? How long has this been going on?"

You felt a wave of guilt crash over you as you tried to steady your breathing. "It's been a few days," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've gotten two other letters. I thought it was just a prank at first, but then it kept happening. I didn't want to worry you."

Chan's face contorted with a blend of frustration and concern, his hands shaking slightly as he held the note. "Why didn't you come to me? We could have dealt with this together."

You looked down, unable to meet his gaze. "I didn't want to burden you. I thought I could handle it on my own, but it's gotten worse."

Chan's voice softened, but there was still a sharp edge of hurt in it. "Do you not trust me?" he asked, his eyes searching yours. "Do you think I wouldn't care, or that I couldn't help you?"

Felix, sensing the rising tension, stood up and quietly excused himself. "I'm just going to... give you two some space," he said, slipping into another room and leaving you and Chan alone to talk.

Chan's anger was palpable, but beneath it was a deep well of concern and fear for your safety. "I could have helped you," he continued, his voice softer but still tinged with frustration. "I could have done something to protect you. Why did you think you had to handle this on your own?"

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice. "Of course I trust you, Chan," you said, your voice trembling. "I just didn't want to drag you into this mess. I was scared."

Chan sighed, his anger melting into a look of pained concern. He reached out and gently cupped your face, lifting your gaze to meet his. "You're never a burden to me," he said softly, his eyes searching yours. "I want to be there for you, to help you through this. But you have to let me in. "

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I just... I didn't know what to do."

"It's okay," he reassured, his voice gentle yet firm. "I want to help you through this." As he held you, the weight of your fear began to lift slightly, replaced by a newfound sense of hope.

"I don't know what I would do without you," you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest.

Chan pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours with unwavering determination. "You don't have to find out," he said firmly.

Chan took a deep breath, then asked, "Can you show me the other letters? We need to gather everything for the police." You nodded, standing up and heading to your room where you had hidden the other letters.

As you made your way down the hallway, the sound of laughter and animated chatter spilled out from the game room where the other boys were engrossed in a game of Among Us. Their voices, loud as ever, filled the air with energy and camaraderie. You caught snippets of their conversation as you passed by, one of them exclaiming, "I swear it's not me this time!"

Your heart pounded as you approached the drawer where you had kept them. Sliding it open, your eyes widened in shock.

The letters were gone.

As you frantically searched for the missing letters, a wave of confusion and disbelief washed over you. How could they have vanished into thin air? Had you imagined receiving them in the first place? Doubt crept into your mind, gnawing at your sanity as you questioned the validity of your own experiences.

Frustration mounted as you retraced your steps, scouring every corner of your home in a desperate attempt to find any trace of the elusive letters. But no matter how hard you looked, they remained tantalizingly out of reach, as if mocking you from the shadows.

With each passing moment, your anxiety grew, your mind consumed by the uncertainty of what was real and what was merely a figment of your imagination. Had you truly received those ominous messages, or was it all just a trick of your mind?

"Chan," you called out, your voice trembling with a new wave of fear. "They're gone."

Chan hurried to your side, looking into the empty drawer with a mixture of confusion and alarm. "Are you sure this is where you put them?" he asked, trying to stay calm.

You nodded frantically. "Yes, I was sure I put them right here. They were here this morning."

Chan ran a hand through his hair, his expression tense. "This means someone has been in here. They knew exactly where to look."

The realization sent a chill down your spine. "But how? Who could have done this?"

Chan's jaw tightened. "We need to call the police right now. Whoever did this might still be nearby."

A thought struck you, and you turned to Chan with wide eyes. "What time did the boys get here? I was out at the spa for a while."

Chan's brow furrowed as he thought back. "I got here around an hour ago, but some of the boys were already here when I arrived. That's not uncommon, though. They're here all the time."

Your mind raced. "Who exactly was here when you arrived?"

"Changbin and Han" Chan replied. "They were already in the house."

Your heart pounded in your chest. "Did they say anything about when they got here?"

Chan shook his head. "No, but I didn't think to ask. It seemed normal since we're always in and out of each other's places."

Your mind raced as you processed Chan's words. Changbin and Han being in the house raised a slew of unsettling possibilities. "Did they seem... off to you at all?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chan's brow furrowed in thought. "No, they were acting pretty normal," he replied.

A knot formed in your stomach as you considered the implications. "Do you think they could be involved somehow?" you asked, the fear evident in your voice.

Chan hesitated, his expression troubled. "I don't know," he admitted.

Your thoughts raced as you tried to piece together the puzzle. "We need to tell the police everything," you said, your voice resolute. "Every detail could be important."

Chan nodded in agreement. "Do you have any other evidence that we can give to the police?" he asked, his tone serious.

Your mind raced as you tried to think of anything else that could help. And then it hit you. "The gift basket," you said, your voice rising with urgency.

Chan's eyes widened in realization. "Of course," he said, his voice firm. "Let's find it."

Together, you hurried to the spot where the gift basket had been placed earlier.

As you reached the spot where the gift basket had been placed earlier, relief washed over you to find it still there.

Together, you and Chan began sifting through the mess, carefully examining each item for any clues or signs of tampering. It didn't take long before Chan's hand paused, his fingers brushing against something hard inside of the teddy bear.

With a deft motion, Chan revealed what lay hidden inside—a small, sleek device, its surface gleaming ominously in the dim light. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized it for what it was—an audio recording device

"They've been listening to us," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chan's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing in anger. "We need to call the police," he said firmly. "This just went from bad to worse."

You nodded in silent agreement, your mind reeling with the implications of the discovery. The invasion of privacy, the violation—it was all too much to bear.

A few minutes later, the tranquility of the night was shattered by the sudden appearance of red and blue lights flashing outside of your house.

"Hey, what's going on?" Changbin asked, his tone tinged with concern. "Why is there a police car outside?"

You exchanged a glance with Chan, silently communicating the seriousness of the situation. "There's been an issue," you explained carefully, choosing your words with caution. "Its gotten bad and we found a hidden recording device in the gift basket."

Changbin's eyes widened in shock, his concern deepening. "Are you serious? That's messed up," he exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief.

As more of the boys began to gather in the living room, their expressions mirrored a mixture of confusion and concern at the sight of the police car outside.

As Detective Ji-Hoon Park arrived at the scene, you and Chan briefed him on the unsettling events that had unfolded—the mysterious notes, the intrusion into your sanctuary, and the discovery of the hidden recording devices.

Detective Park listened attentively, his expression inscrutable as he absorbed the details of your story. After taking notes and asking a few clarifying questions, he nodded thoughtfully.

"Thank you for your cooperation," he said, his voice measured. "I'll need to gather some evidence and speak with any witnesses to piece together what happened."

You and Chan exchanged a glance, a shared sense of relief washing over you at the prospect of having a seasoned investigator on the case. With Detective Park leading the investigation, you felt a glimmer of hope that the truth would soon come to light.

Detective Park conducted his interviews with each individual separately, a methodical approach aimed at uncovering the truth behind the unsettling events.

As Detective Park began questioning Hyunjin, the tension in the room seemed to thicken. Hyunjin's usually confident demeanor faltered under the detective's scrutiny, his gaze shifting uncomfortably as he struggled to provide coherent answers. Detective Park's probing questions seemed to hit a nerve, prompting Hyunjin to stammer and hesitate, his responses growing increasingly evasive. Despite his attempts to maintain composure, a sense of unease emanated from him, casting doubt upon his every word. As the interrogation continued, the weight of suspicion seemed to loom heavier upon Hyunjin, leaving the others in the room on edge as they watched the unfolding exchange.

Detective Park pulled you aside, his expression serious as he spoke privately to you. "I need to be honest with you," he began, his voice low and confidential. "At this point in the investigation, everyone is a suspect."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "Everyone?" you echoed, the weight of the suspicion heavy upon your shoulders.

Detective Park nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Until we have concrete evidence pointing to a specific individual, we have to consider all possibilities," he explained. "I know it's unsettling, but it's important to remain vigilant."

You nodded, swallowing hard as you absorbed his words. The thought that someone close to you could be responsible for the threats and intrusions sent a chill down your spine.

"I want you to be cautious," Detective Park continued, his tone firm. "Avoid having people over unless absolutely necessary, and make sure everything is securely locked at all times. If anything else pops up—no matter how small or insignificant it may seem—call me personally."

You nodded again, your resolve strengthening in the face of the looming danger. "Thank you, Detective," you said

With a nod of acknowledgment, Detective Park gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before returning his attention to the ongoing investigation.

In the end, you were left with more questions than answers, the disappearance of the letters shrouded in mystery and uncertainty. And as you grappled with the unsettling implications of their absence, you couldn't shake the feeling that someone—or something—was watching you, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike again.

As you considered the list of potential suspects, each name weighed heavily on your mind. Your bodyguard, your assistant, Minho, Hyunjin, Changbin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin and Chan—all of them had been in the house since the letters had arrived. Each one could potentially be the culprit behind the mysterious disappearance.

The thought of suspecting those closest to you filled you with a sense of unease and betrayal. These were people you trusted, people you considered friends and confidants. The idea that one of them could be behind such sinister actions was almost too much to bear.

But you couldn't afford to let your guard down. Whoever was responsible for the letters was playing a dangerous game, and you needed to stay vigilant if you were going to uncover the truth. Yet, at the same time, you couldn't bring yourself to voice your suspicions to your friends—not when the evidence was circumstantial at best.

With a heavy heart, you resolved to keep a closer eye on those around you, searching for any signs of deception or malice. Until then, you would remain vigilant, determined to uncover the identity of the mysterious stalker lurking in the shadows.

As Detective Park concluded his questioning and prepared to leave, a sense of unease lingered in the air. You watched in silence as he gathered his notes and bid farewell to the others.

Feeling drained and on edge, the boys exchanged uneasy glances, the events of the evening weighing heavily on their minds. It was clear that no one felt comfortable staying any longer.

With reluctant farewells and promises to stay in touch, the boys made their way home, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the chilling realization that the nightmare was far from over.

But as you began to say your goodbyes, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

Seungmin and Minho were never here.

EP.4 - Smarter baby, Smarter

*·˚ᑉ³ Taglist in the comments! If you want to be removed from the taglist send me a dm!

69 notes · View notes

yokohamapound · 1 year

Note

Hello there! I absolutely love your content you write the boys so well 😭 if you are taking submissions could you do one convincing the BSD boys to have a massage? These guys are so touch starved istg 💖💖

Ooh, I love this! I know some guys who could really do with letting go of some tension...

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Kunikida Doppo

Contents: gn!reader

Dazai Osamu

Dazai doesn't need much prodding to laze around and let someone pamper him, but he will balk at paying for it. The ADA pays okay, but Dazai's a cheapskate at heart. He doesn't see why he should pay for someone to give him a massage when his darling partner could just do it for free.

He pouts when you insist he should get a proper massage. Who knows what kind of muscle tension he's carrying? Dazai doesn't exactly look after himself—he sleeps in strange positions, regularly stuffs himself into bins and barrels, and generally has terrible posture.

The only way to convince him is to buy the massage for him as a gift or something.

"Thank you, bella, but they won't be able to get all the kinks out."

Terrible puns aside, Dazai falls asleep the minute he lays down on the massage bed, only waking up to squeal when the massage therapist digs into a particularly deep knot. You can hear him from the waiting room.

"H-harder!"

The receptionist at the massage place gives the door an alarmed look. You stare at your phone and pretend not to have heard anything.

When he comes out, he's as limp as a wet noodle, practically sparkling with relaxation.

Nakahara Chuuya

The only problem with getting Chuuya to have a massage is him finding the free time. He's also picky about who he lets put their hands on him. Not that he's worried about anyone being able to hurt him, of course.

He chooses an expensive treatment, probably a deep-tissue massage followed by hot stones or something. And it'll be a couple's massage session. If he's doing it, you're doing it too.

Probably at an onsen or some kind of spa place. A Port Mafia executive doesn't go to the dodgy place down the street, after all.

He grunts whenever the massage therapist finds another tense muscle, gripping the edge of the bed so hard the wood creaks. It feels like the therapist is drying to grind his muscles to dust. When he looks across at you, he scowls.

You're lying there in a state of bliss, your massage therapist's oiled hands gliding gently across your back. Why are you getting the light treatment?

Fuck it. He's a man. He can handle this.

Despite the therapist trying to roll him out like bread dough, he is pretty relaxed by the time they've laid hot stones on his back.

"Guy's lucky I didn't deck him," he grumbles sleepily.

"Sure thing, babe."

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Okay, so there's no way you're going to convince Aku to let some stranger lay their hands on him. It involves three things he hates:

1. Being vulnerable.

2. Strangers touching him.

3. Being naked.

The only way this is going to work is if you take a massage course, maybe throw in some aromatherapy too, and learn how to give a proper massage yourself. Even then, it's going to take a lot of wheedling and reassurance to convince him.

"No."

"Please? I really need to practice."

"Use someone else."

"Do you want me touching someone else's naked body?"

"..."

And so on and so forth.

When you finally wear him down, his thin, pale back is as rigid as a bowstring, practically vibrating with tension when you put your hands on him. He flinches, then grows even more tense. You warm some scented oil between your hands—mint, because he doesn't like citrus smells—and smooth them gently down his back.

It takes a while of that for him to start to relax. He keeps his head twisted to the side, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

Aku doesn't like you seeing him without his clothes. He knows he's scrawny, and doesn't see what the appeal is. He's always waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to mock his appearance. It takes a lot of patience.

By the time you've worked your way up to his neck, gently kneading out the sailor-worthy knots from the amount of tension he carries, he's breathing easier. He might have let his eyes drift shut, although one hand will still be clenched in his coat, just in case.

See, Aku, that wasn't so bad, was it?

Kunikida Doppo

My god, does this man need to find some way to unwind. You may have noticed that he can be highly-strung and neurotic. Honestly, hard to blame him with his coworkers, but he's also very Type-A as a person.

Thankfully, Kunikida's ideals mean he is also very focused on maintaining his health and wellbeing. He won't ignore aches and pains, because they could well develop into more serious issues further down the line and that's not very ideal, is it?

Sadly, he's also wary of taking suggestions because of Dazai's penchant for coming up with bogus health advice. Kunikida is rather gullible, sometimes. Massage does have well-documented health benefits, though, so this shouldn't be a problem to convince him.

Just make sure it's pencilled into his schedule.

The main issue comes when it is actually time to relax. I'm convinced that Kunikida doesn't really know how. He has a couple of relaxing hobbies, like fishing, but even then he keeps a straight back and his mind is usually busy while his hands are idle.

He finds it very difficult to switch off, and the poor massage therapist is trying to massage the equivalent of a plank of wood. And when they look up, Kunikida is still trying to work—he needs to maximise every possible moment, after all!

"Sir? Sir! Are you checking your emails??"

"Yes, I have to keep on top of my inbox."

"Put the phone down, sir."

#bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #Dazai Osamu #Nakahara Chuuya #Akutagawa Ryuunosuke #Kunikida Doppo #Dazai x Reader #Chuuya x Reader #Akutagawa x Reader #Kunikida x Reader

575 notes · View notes

struggling-intuit · 9 months

Text

peach fizz (M)

you x jaehyun || your husband is perfect and eats pussy like a god

bibi || restless

prompt || of his ability to anticipate a partner's needs

wc || 1.7k

warnings || MINORS, GO PLAY WITH YOUR AGE-APPROPRIATE TOYS; femme!reader, husband!jaehyun, jae has a thick dick, he cooks, post-work foot massage, cute cringe, penetration, soft romantic sex, finger sucking, reader is overworked, pussy licking, jae is very pussy drunk but also respectful of your boundaries

You shoulder your way into your apartment, weighed down by your work computer with files precariously balanced alongside your purse and winter coat.

Another night of work off the clock.

Your department is hell, more so ever since you got promoted to manager. You’re absolutely swamped.

You barely see your husband anymore, barely see yourself when you look in the mirror. Not to be dramatic, but you might just be a husk of your former self.

Shrugging off your blazer, you collapse onto the couch. When was the last time you had a break? You don’t remember.

A nap would be great right now. It really would. Face-first deep into the plush of the sofa, bathed in the golden-hour light scattered across the wooden floorboards, enveloped by the warm aroma of tomato, onion, oregano, is that parmesan? Your eyes snap open.

Jae.

As if he could hear thoughts, the man in question comes meandering out of the kitchen.

“Dinner’s almost ready.”

He’s smiling as he leans down to kiss you on your temple then shifts out of view. You hear him kneeling behind you.

“How was your day?” he asks.

He relieves your heels from your feet, thumb brushing against the tired sole. You don’t say anything.

“That bad?”

The rich timbre of Jaehyun’s sluggish articulation reverberates through you, ghosting up your spine to tickle the shell of your ear. He chuckles at the full-body shiver the sensation triggers and lifts your foot, soft lips tenderly pressing against your ankle.

“Haechan’s bothering you again?”

You sigh as his fingers dig into your calf, working into knots so dense they must’ve been there for a fortnight.

“He just – ooh… never does his work right the first time. I’m always having to correct it.”

“That sucks.” He strokes the side of your knee as if to reassure you. “You shouldn’t have to take on his work when you have so much to do already.”

You groan as Jae’s attention shifts back to your feet, kneading sweet pressure into patches turned tough from endless days of running back and forth trying to keep the company afloat.

He hums in thought, hands stilling for a half-second.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know-ah!”

He's found a new rhythm, knuckles pressing into your left heel and pushing up the back of your leg before switching to the right. You try to ignore the faint throbbing between your thighs.

“Well, what do you want to do about it?”

The heel of his hand drives into the muscle, cutting through a particularly annoying kink like butter.

“Oh my god, Jae, please.”

“What?”

You just know his mouth is quirked with that lazy smile of his. He’s been waiting for you to say his name.

“Jaehyun,” you acquiesce, just above a whisper and mumbled into the cushion. Your body is flushed hot with need.

His graceful fingertips drift upward, rolling the flesh of your upper thigh.

“What did you say?”

“YUNO!”

Suddenly he’s right where you need him, fondling your clit through the sopping seat of your panties.

“Dessert first?” he asks, and then his face is buried in your heat.

He pauses to breathe you in, same as he always does. The first time he went down on you, you’d questioned why and gotten a vague answer about savoring every meal. You’d figured he just had a kink for it.

Ritual complete, he delves between the clothed folds, making sure to hike your rumpled skirt the rest of the way up and over your ass. Jaehyun’s relentless tongue turns cotton into tissue paper, near dissolving the fabric in attempt to taste every inch of your pussy.

You can’t help but reminisce about how cute he looks when he eats you out. The dark crevice of the couch is the perfect canvas on which to project your memories – his small mouth, the vampire teeth, even those peachy dimples when he smiles against you… everything about pussy-drunk Jae is lovely.

And his eyes must be going all droopy now, now that he’s lifting your hips to suck at your clit more directly, even more fiercely.

He’s hard for you.

And you? You’re dripping for him.

Your honey is staining his nose and everything below, slicking swollen lips as they slurp eager, desperate for your juices. His tongue reaches to cup you in your entirety, fluttering against your stiff bud and pulling from your lips his first reward: your moan, dark, needy.

That familiar sparking warmth rises in the pit of your belly, you’re getting uncomfortably close. You wriggle back against him, squirm out of position. His hands are quick to put you in your place.

Jaehyun won’t let you get away, not with your orgasm bubbling up like champagne. He’s sinking into you, drowning in you, electrifying you with an endless current, a live wire at the peach pink of your pussy.

Your vision goes a bit fuzzy at the edges, then your climax is crashing over you. Jae doesn’t stop. He pulls you closer, laps at you, presses sugared kisses at your gushing cunt. He’s drinking in every yelp and squeal of his name, only pulling back when your spasms begin to slow.

You’ve finally stopped shaking and he’s brushing your shoulder, possibly to make sure you’re alive.

Your name is so pretty from his mouth.

“Did I do it too long?”

“No,” you breathe, voice trembling.

He smiles softly, leans back on his hands.

“Good. I’ll go check on dinner.”

You grab at his arm as he stands up to leave and end up encircled around his waist.

“Wait Jae, I –”

He looks down to meet your gaze. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, no point in wondering though.

Instead you disentangle from him, stand up on unsteady feet, and push skirt, panties, everything down to the floor.

“Please, Jae. I need you.”

He turns and steps toward you, and you can see just how hard he is. For you.

Jaehyun’s lips are always so gentle against yours, and today is no exception. You want to bring the hunger out of him.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs. “I can wait, I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Jaehyun.”

His eyes widen at your tone.

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me.”

You push him down on the sofa, rushing to undo his zipper before he can protest again. He doesn’t, simply watches you pull his cock from his pants and curl your hand around the base. You love the way your fingers don’t quite touch. How many times has this monster been inside you?

When you’ve had your fill of leering at his thickness, you grab his chin with the other hand and stare directly into his eyes.

“This,” you start, motioning to his dick, “is mine. If it’s unsatisfied, then I want to satisfy it.”

Jaehyun presses his lips together to stop himself from laughing.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No.”

His dimples are on full display.

“Then where do you want me?”

He hesitates before grabbing you by your hips, pulling you toward him to position you over the swollen head. He looks at you one last time, chuckling at your mock-stern expression.

“Jae.”

And with that, your steaming, syrupy folds are split by thick, hot cock, oh my god he’s so big.

Jae fucks you slow, agonizingly so, only breaking eye contact to engage your clit again. There’s something about his measured pace that offers a whole new level of friction, and you can barely stand it. Seething curses escape you as you lean back into the palm splayed between your shoulder blades.

He’s so rock solid beneath you. You don’t resist the urge to trace the hard lines etched by his chest and shoulders, nails brushing through the trail of dark hair leading from his belly button to the apex of a defined V. He watches the patterns traced with you, his breath swelling as you take him again and again, all the way to the hilt.

“I love you.”

You almost don’t hear it over the rush in your ears, but you’ve read those words on his lips a million times.

“I love you more.”

“Doubtful,” he fires back, and your laughs mingle in the little space between you.

“You know you have cum all over your face,” you joke, thumbing the final dregs of your release from his chin. He opens his mouth, poking out his tongue just enough to welcome your fingers inside.

“You’re so nasty, you know that?”

He doesn’t respond, busy sucking at the sticky delicious coating your digits, but his eyes crinkle at the corners.

A preliminary spasm sneaks up on you, earning a low moan that darkens Jae’s eyes. As if they could get any darker.

“Jae, I’m close.” And he is too, his husky grunts echoing in the back of his throat. He picks up the pace, and just in time to spin you off the cliff again. Goosebumps form just under the heat rising off you as your senses cut out in turn. There’s only Jaehyun.

Your pulsating embrace sends him into overdrive. He’s trying not to hurt you, but he’s pounding, pounding, fucking you until he can’t anymore. Every time he cums in you, he’s a beast.

And when you’re spent, cuddled into him on the sofa and wearing his shirt as you doze in the post-sex glow, he carries you to the bed, tucks the covers under your chin, and returns to the kitchen to make sure he hasn’t burned the food.

A couple hours later, you’re awake to finish your work, a little less stressed and nude except for a flimsy robe and reading glasses. Jaehyun knocks on the cracked door before slipping in with a steaming plate and glass of wine.

“What is it?” you ask, bending your neck to get a good look at the meal.

“There was a recipe for baked ziti. Thought you might like it.”

Your heart beats a touch harder, a dash faster. Your husband’s attentiveness never fails to make you fall in love with him all over again.

And the food? Mouthwatering, as always.

find prompt here

and more nct headcanons here

free me from this man and while you're at it, let me know which headcanon I should fictionalize next

#a bit of fiction #18+ readings #jaehyun #jaehyun nct #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenarios #nct 127 #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #creative writing

152 notes · View notes

dreamdaddydutch · 1 year

Text

After-care with the gang

I’ve been thinking about after-care with a few of the gang members and what this would look like. So far I’ve written for Arthur, Dutch, Charles, Javier, Lenny, Karen and Sadie - I may write a part 2 (I know I still need to do part 2 of thigh-riding). There’s also a few implied kinks in here, which I may, or may not do something further on.

!!Minors DNI. 18+ Only!!

Warnings: Smut (obviously), depictions of cleaning up/mixing bodily fluids, a slight allusion to foot fetish/interest in water sports.

Arthur

Good girl/boah” you did so well for me didn’t you hmm?

Arthur communicates a lot after sex with ‘hmms’ and cooing noises.

His aftercare is kind of brief, he’s sleepy after sex and sometimes suffers with bouts of depression when he’s come down from his high which means he can be rather quiet afterwards.

But it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about his partner and he’s sure to let you know that. He struggles to be vulnerable around people, but if he’s close to you then he will let you in perhaps even talking a little about feelings afterwards and opening up to you.

If you’re in a hotel he’d like to take a bath with you afterwards so you can both get clean and get into bed feeling refreshed and warm. If you’re at camp it’s a different vibe, unless there’s a river nearby and it’s a summer’s night – in which case Arthur is absolutely up for running naked from the camp and skinny dipping. Then it’s a case of a small bucket of warm water and cloths for the both of you, it’s a mutual cleaning thing. You both sit there and slowly wash one another.

It also depends on the type of sex the two of you have just had. If it was rough and/or there’s an element of BDSM or Arthur just being very dominant, he will be very caring and full of praise. He’ll enjoy your needs are tended to and that you have the space along with everything you need to come back down. He’ll kiss any bruises, love bites, anywhere his fingernails dug in too deep etc. And ensure you’re feeling okay. If there’s any concerns, no matter how tired Arthur is, your needs come first in this instance and he’s down to talk things out.

Dutch

“My dear you performed so well.” He is full of compliments.

He’ll help clean you up, mostly because he doesn’t want to sleep in a messy bed, but also because he does actually care, even if he isn’t the best at showing it.

Soft kisses across your chest, inner thighs…in all those sensitive areas which may be a little tender and sore after sex. Yeah, he wants to make them feel good.

He really likes to watch himself leak from you, sitting back as he smokes a cigar and makes you spread your legs so he can watch for a few minutes. It’s uncomfortable and he knows that it’s especially nasty as it gets colder but Dutch will reward you for your efforts and the show you put on for him.

After a few minutes he’ll tell you that’s enough and then lean forward to assist in cleaning you up. He’ll gently wipe the cum from your skin and assist you to the bathroom if you’re staying in a hotel. Yup, Dutch knows that peeing after sex is a good idea and he encourages it…. There’s a bit more to unpack there but we’ll leave it at that.

One of Dutch’s favourite things is to have his partner by his side in bed, with their head on his broad chest. If you gently tug the curly hair there, it’ll have him purring.

Charles

Charles is very spaced after sex and needs a moment to come down from his own high. So expect to just cuddle softly in his broad arms. He likes having his partner’s head on his chest so they can hear his heartbeat. It’ll only be once he’s calmed down and feels back to earth that he’ll get up.

But he’ll check in with you first, making sure you’re okay and if you need anything. Whether It’s a massage, food, drink…whatever it is Charles will get it for you, he’ll just do it quietly while he works through his own come down and emotions.

He’s really good at giving massages too, especially deep tissue massages and working those knots out. Or slow and sensual massages with oil that either leave you drifting off to dreamland incredibly soothed, or if the mood takes you both it’ll lead to the next round as he massages your inner thighs.

Kinda likes to taste himself, so before getting a cloth to clean you up he’ll lick as much of you as he can to taste your juices together. There’s something primal and animalistic about it which makes him feel much closer to you even if he can’t quite explain why.

It takes him a while to go to sleep after sex, he’s tired – yes. But mentally he’s awake, thinking about your body and how it makes him feel.

After sex Charles gets philosophical and thinks about life. He’s happy to talk to you about it, he loves those late night conversations with the person he loves and how they’re feeling. This is the time of day when secrets are likely to come out or his deepest fears, biggest dreams etc.

Javier

Javier is a king of after-care. He needs his partner to feel loved, comfortable, safe, happy and clean after sex.

Occasionally he’s into cock warming so won’t pull out straight away. He enjoys the feeling of going soft inside you and then just staying there. He’ll check in with you while he lays on your chest, snuggling a little and muttering praise. But when he does finally pull out he’ll already have a handkerchief or cloth ready to help tidy up the mess.

He can’t help but kiss you anywhere intimate, anywhere he’s cleaning you – loves the taste of you and of himself as it leaks from you, so will use his tongue delicately so not to overstimulate you as he cleans, then kisses you to share your mixed taste. If you have a cock, he’ll intentionally spit a little of his own cum onto yours if it’s on your stomach/thighs etc. and then lick it up. He doesn’t care if others think it’s nasty, he thinks it’s hot. Of course he’ll only do this point if you’re comfortable with it too.

Lots of cuddles and praises – will pull you back into his arms so that your back is flush to his chest. He’s warm and his heart is still beating fast.

His kisses after sex are slow and sensual, he loves the sound of his your name on his lips and will mutter it in between kisses.

Plays with your hair, brushing it, stroking it and massaging your temple. Or if his partner is bald then he’ll put all his love into massaging their scalp and peppering kisses on it. Everything with Javier feels so good it’ll make you never want it to end.

Massages sore shoulders or feet, he’s kind of into feet so it may turn him on again – but he’s a good boy who is very able to keep things under control.

If he’s planning on having a particularly rough or intense session, he’ll make sure there’s something to drink, eat and plenty to clean up with as well as some massage oil. After-care is as important to him as the sex itself, it’s a time to show you how much he loves you and cares, it’s also a time to continue being sensual, just in a different way.

Javier can be pretty sleepy after sex, especially if it’s at night, so his aftercare is also slow, sleepy and soft. His yawns are the sweetest – though if you tell him that he pulls a particular face, a little grumpy but hard not to adore.

Loves nothing more than to fall asleep in a bed with you – it makes him feel safe and secure knowing you’re so close. But more than that, the fact you’re so close means he can protect you if needed.

Lenny

Lenny is one of the softest boys or partners when it comes to after care. Partly because he needs it too, an intense session in the bedroom can really take it out of him and leave him feeling quite emotional and vulnerable – even if he was the one in control.

As such he’ll take things slow and wait for you both to come down from your highs. It might be a few minutes but in the meantime, he’ll hold you in his arms and softly stroke your hair and tell you how much he loves you, how well you did, how proud he is to be yours.

When Lenny does get up, he’ll check you’re okay. His movements are slow and thoughtful, he has a bowl of water by the side of the bed and some towels already lined up. He knows the water will be cold but he’s so gentle and slow with cleaning you up that it doesn’t matter.

In between cleaning your thighs, intimate areas he’ll pepper kisses over your skin.

Will also give you one of his shirts to wear to keep you warm as you come back to reality.

Lenny loves going to sleep by your side and knowing you’re with him. Sometimes the big spoon and sometimes the little spoon. It doesn’t really matter to him as long as he’s in bed with the person he loves.

Karen

Karen is very fond of cuddles after sex, she’s happy to lie in bed for ages after her come down and hold you in her arms. There’s praise there too and lots of blankets.

Queen of after sex snacks, she’s stashed food away or bought some candies that she has for after sex which is really cute. She just likes the taste of something sweet and innocent after sex, and there’s nothing better than sharing that moment with you.

If you’ve had an intense session where she’s been domineering and it’s perhaps been a little much, Karen is one of the best partners to be with. She’ll brush your hair and stroke your arms softly, scratch your back and just make you feel all fuzzy, warm and loved.

Karen will never go to sleep until she knows you’re settled and happy. No matter how tired she is she’d want to make sure you were okay and that you’d had a good time. She’ll sing soft praise.

The big spoon – Karen loves to feel protective of the one she loves and needs them to know they’re safe with her and she’d never do anything to hurt them.

Sadie

After-care with Sadie is swift, there isn’t time in her life for stalling or being too romantic about things. Life on the road and even at camp moves fast and after everything she’s been through Sadie would rather make sure she isn’t out of it for too long.

But she’ll provide you with a cloth to clean yourself up and will always kiss you afterwards. The kisses will be brief but mean something, light traces on the neck, a kiss on the cheek and then a brief kiss on the lips where for just a few seconds it will be like the start of the evening. Passionate and leaving you wanting more. And then it’s done.

But Sadie never leaves without a smile, slightly cocky and beautiful smile. She will also need to know that you are okay, whether she asks or the communication is done all through her actions, it is important to her that you know she cares.

Sadie isn’t big on sleeping in the same bed as anyone, regardless of how much she loves them or how close they are. Sadie is just a lady who needs her space, Jake was the only person who she could trust to get that close. So if you do want to share a bed, you’ll have to be very patient and understanding.

#arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #javier escuella #charles smith x reader #lenny summers #karen jones #sadie adler #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 headcanons #minors dni #smut #arthur morgan x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #javier escuella x reader #charles smith #lenny summers x reader #karen jones x reader #sadie adler x reader

591 notes · View notes

bjurnberg · 2 months

Text

Guess which oblivious asexual virgin just accidentally bought her first vibrator?

This guy. *points both thumbs at my beet red face*

I got my tax return and wanted to buy a couple things for personal comfort before all the money goes into car repairs. Specifically I’ve wanted one of those hang-over-your-chair back massage things for my computer chair, and figured I could also find a cheap handheld massage gun to get rid of those stress knots that live rent free in my shoulder blades when I’m away from my desk.

So what do I do? I do an internet search for “handheld massage gun” and read through a dozen products and reviews. And APPARENTLY my mind is so far removed from sexual thoughts that nothing pinged on the mental radar that this was anything besides a massage gun to relieve muscle stress. (There were several very obvious vibrators and dildos that popped up in the search that I ignored and filtered out of the search, but the one I bought was this)

Product title: Handheld massager.

Product description: “Rechargeable personal hand held deep tissue vibrating massager for muscles, back, foot, neck. Cordless electric percussion body massage gift for women.”

IT SAYS NOTHING ABOUT THIS BEING A SEX TOY. IT SAYS BACK FOOT AND NECK. NOTHING ABOUT GENITALS AND ORGASMS. I truly thought the “for women” was because the handle was pink. Figured I’d be paying the pink tax because it’s a cute color and I like cute things.

But soon as I open the brown box it got mailed in, I see this on the actual product packaging:

And the truth hits me like a cement truck.

What the fuck. I don’t wanna fuck. Why did they send me this fuck machine? Well fuck me I guess (but don’t really) because I must have been shipped the wrong thing and now have to return this and file a complaint to get the thing I wanted.

But no. The product number is the same. This is what I paid for.

Do allosexual people use their vibrators as massage guns for other parts of their body? I’ve never heard of that. But I also don’t follow conversations about sex toys. Because I don’t care and it kinda squicks me. Why wouldn’t the product description be clear about what this is? Why trick this poor asexual by claiming it’s a handheld back massager? (I mean, I guess technically it can be used on any part of the body I wish, but why? Why? Why market it this way?)

I have “Ace Until Proven Guilty” in my bio as a joke because too many people equate asexuality with innocence and infantilize us regardless of whether we’re sex-positive, -negative, or -neutral. I’m all for people using any sex toy they want but it’s not my thing so WHY WOULDN’T THEY STATE WHAT IT IS IN THE SALES PITCH instead of misleading me, a person who hasn’t seen a large variety of vibrators and wouldn’t recognize one on sight?

Guess I’ve been Proven Ace once again.

(It’s okay to laugh at me. This is kinda funny. If annoying.)

#honestly all my embarrassment and anger are already gone #and I’m just sitting here rolling my eyes #why?#just why?#I don’t understand why they would market it this way #acespec #ace #asexual #sex repulsed #you do you if you want #but I don’t wanna do me #I just want a massage #and not in my vagina thanks #bjurnberg

43 notes · View notes

ladyshinga · 1 year

Text

I've been so isolated I forgot most people who haven't been in my house often may be understandably confused by the bucket of lacrosse balls I keep next to me on the couch. But if you've got deep tissue muscle pain, I recommend keeping lacrosse balls in YOUR house too - those things are magical PT tools. I found this out when I got in a car accident years ago and the PT guy working on my neck and shoulder was like "Psst... I know you have hip issues too and even though we're not working on that... here's a trick" and he showed me how to lie down and position the lacrosse ball under my hip and do some rolling to basically deep-tissue-massage out knots and tense muscles and such and holy shit. it feels amazing. Hurts! But in the GOOD way.

Why do I have AN ENTIRE BUCKET of them, you ask? Is that necessary?

Nope! You end up with an entire bucket after losing lacrosse balls in your old couch and having to re-order more because you have no idea where it went and after you get rid of the old couch and your husband digs out like 20 balls from it you just sorta. Have to keep them all in a bucket because well. Where else do I want to put over a dozen physical therapy balls

#disability #chronic pain #physical therapy

295 notes · View notes

neuro-psyche · 6 days

Text

i just had a random thought about Jason (since he lives in my head rent free).

So injury scars HURT. And i’m not talking small scars, i’m talking like I-was-filleted-like-a-fish sorta shit. I have this massive scar from an accident that cut open my elbow to my wrist a few years ago and i’m constantly scratching it or massaging it or something because it’s uncomfortable.

Jason (in almost exclusively fanon lore) has a Y-scar from an autopsy. Do you know how absolutely horrifically uncomfortable that would be? Feeling the weight of your lungs pressing against a tension that runs so deep into your chest? Scar tissue is a knot of skin desperately holding together. It’s awful. I can’t imagine feeling your organs shifting because they’re in the wrong place? Because fun fact, in an autopsy, they just throw that shit back in there and stitch you together!

I can’t even imagine the weight he would feel on his chest, in his stomach, and in his shoulders from that mangled scar tissue.

I feel like it would also be a weather thing where, depending on the forecast, he could feel his chest tighten. It would be painful.

for the love, this sweet boy has been through too much

yes this will live in my head for the next few days.

#jason todd #red hood #batbros #batman #dc comics #dcu #batfam #comics #headcanon #dc robin #robin

49 notes · View notes

dovesndecay · 3 months

Text

I'm both terrified and desirous of a deep tissue massage gun, because I know that my body is one giant knot, but also my body is one giant knot. So.

#original post #fibromyalgia

33 notes · View notes

mollymorgansshovel · 1 year

Text

POV you’re a massage therapist on Atlantis and these are your annoying clients

Sheppard: Self-destructive runner type. Gets massaged to get hurt. Like, wants bruising pressure on his tight calves and hamstrings. Doesn’t give direct answers to questions about how the pressure is. Says weird indirect things like, “that’s a real zinger” instead of helpfully asking for less pressure or more time on any particular area. Works very hard and awkwardly to make it clear he’s non-threatening, using the phrase “in your professional opinion” several times.

McKay: Spends ten minutes on intake explaining his medical history, very little of which is relevant. Triple-checks that there are no citrus oils in your massage lotion. Is an absolute baby on the table, wincing and tensing at the slightest bit of pressure, but complaining when you use light pressure that you’re not going to get the knots out of his neck. Asks, “Is that muscle tight?” about every muscle, and when you say yes, he explains the reason why (complaining about his over-athletic friends making him do things.) You try to take the 10-minute intake out of his hands-on massage time so that your appointment doesn’t run late, but he notices the time and asks why you’re finishing early.

Teyla: Very pleasant client, when she’s able to commit to relaxing. Sometimes she is not able to commit to relaxing, and she seems to take it out on you, suggesting you are not doing enough to reduce her shoulder strain. She likes a lot of pressure and does not even mind things like bones being bruised, which is only hard because you do not want to hurt her because she is so nice.

Ronon: Gives you ZERO information to work with. Just answers “sure” to everything. You try to give a very medium-pressure, medium-everything massage, and get pretty much no feedback from it. His muscles soften a little, but it is a lot of muscle mass to manipulate, so it’s physically demanding work and you’re not even sure he’s happy with the results. You ask him to turn over onto his back and he does it in .5 seconds flat as if he was lying there fully alert waiting for something to do. He smiles really nice at you when he leaves though.

Ford: Giggles the whole time. When you find a sore spot. When you find a ticklish spot. When you prod a muscle he didn’t realize he had. When you put an elbow in his glutes. Don’t even get me started on his feet. He apologizes for the giggling, but doesn’t stop.

Elizabeth: Tells you she wants to relax, asks for lavender aromatherapy and everything, but asks you not to get oil in her hair because she just washed it!! How are you supposed to focus on relieving neck tension when you’re supposed to be focusing on absolutely not touching her hair?? And you can tell SHE is lying there being hyper-aware of the proximity of your oily fingers to her hair, which is not conducive to relaxation. Usually scalp massage is a surefire way to calm someone down, but you’re not allowed to touch her head. She also twitches when you use firm pressure on her shoulders, but you’re not sure if it’s in pain or if she’s worried you’re going to accidentally touch her hair. She tells you the pressure is fine. You don’t know what to believe. The relaxing lavender aromatherapy doesn’t seem to work very well.

Woolsey: The only time he talks during the session is to tell you anecdotes about the best spa experiences of his life. Describes the massage he got on a cruise to the Bahamas. Asks if you do this one hot-towel technique he once received at a spa in Sweden. You can tell he is comparing you to these other five-star experiences, and that you are not coming out a winner. You ask if he’d like water after the massage and he says yes, but when you bring him water, he touches it and says, “Oh, it’s cold water. I assumed it would be warm. Cold water after a massage...doesn’t agree with me” and hands it back to you. He leaves you a $50 tip, but it feels like a passive-aggressive pity fee.

Caldwell: Gets 90-minute deep tissue on his back. He needs it. Look how he sits. You tell him that working on his glutes and hamstrings would help with the low-back pain, but he insists it’s just his back that bothers him so you can only work on that. Misuses the word “sciatica.”

Becket: Very vocal client, grunts a lot. Tells you what a good job you’re doing, using very descriptive medical terms. “Is that the sternal head or the clavicular head of the SCM? It’s very tight whatever it is. Clearly I’m not doing a good enough job stretching. Thank you for the reminder.”

Zelenka: Best massage client. Knows how to use the spa to get away from work. Fully relaxes and doesn’t complain about a damn thing.

#stargate atlantis #sga #John sheppard #massage stuff #posture things

116 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

natu-realgirl

Untitled

shelbbo

Untitled

opheliaurl

at @anatomicaltheater now

baburujidai

バブル時代

n-o-musicman

Untitled