I Talk

if you’re having a bad day, he gets weirdly attentive. he does not know how to comfort people normally, so suddenly you’re being handed food, blankets, tea, random flowers he definitely stole from somewhere. he never acknowledges what he’s doing — “the flowers were in my way.”

he acts like he hates physical affection in public. but five minutes later he’s got an arm draped around your shoulders, your hand trapped in his lap, and his chin resting on your head. if you point out the hypocrisy, he just says, “this isn’t affection. this is security.”

he secretly memorizes tiny details about you and pretends he doesn’t. your favorite snack, your favorite color, the exact expression you make before you start complaining about something. he notices everything.

he gets jealous of the dumbest things imaginable. not jealous in a scary way, jealous in an unbelievably pathetic way.

you spend ten minutes petting a cat? suddenly he’s staring at it like it’s a rival.

you mention a nice conversation you had with someone? “and what was so interesting about that?”

if you ever dare to call another man handsome he acts normal for approximately three seconds. then: “really?” “what?” “nothing. just surprised.” “why?” “no reason.” there is a reason.

he has genuinely threatened to fight liu kang “for your honor” multiple times even though liu kang literally just smiled at you politely.

the worst part? he genuinely thinks he’s being subtle. he’s not. everybody knows. even the person he’s jealous of knows.

if somebody flirts with you, kung lao spends the next three hours pretending it doesn’t bother him. which somehow involves bringing it up every five minutes.

he keeps score of everything. everything. who won the last spar. who picked dinner last. who said “i love you” first after an argument.

he uses his hat to impress you constantly. constantly. like every day.

you’ve seen every trick but he still expects applause. if you don’t react: “you didn’t even look.” “i’ve seen that one.” “no. this was a different spin.”

he absolutely practices dramatic entrances before seeing you. not consciously. but if he spots you first. suddenly his posture improves. hair gets adjusted. walk gets smoother. voice gets deeper.

but the second you’re actually paying attention to him he forgets every cool thing he was about to say.

forehead kisses are extremely rare, and extremely dangerous. with kung lao, they are the emotional equivalent of getting hit by a truck, because they usually happen when you’re upset. or sick. or exhausted.

he’ll brush your hair back, press the softest kiss to your forehead, then immediately ruin the moment. “you looked awful.” “thanks.” “you’re welcome.”

he genuinely believes that being your boyfriend grants him special rights. your food? shared. your blanket? shared. your attention? his.

if you’re sitting somewhere, he automatically assumes there’s space for him too. doesn’t matter if there isn’t. that’s your problem.

if anyone asks why you’re dating him, he answers before you can. “she has excellent taste.”

deep down, though? he’s never completely sure how he got so lucky.

some nights he’ll just look at you when you aren’t paying attention, quiet for once. like he’s trying to figure out how someone chose him.

then the second you catch him staring: “what?” “you were looking at me.” “no i wasn’t.” “kung lao.” “you have no proof.”

nsfw (18+) . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

he fucks like he fights: flashy, competitive, and convinced he’s the best you’ll ever have (and annoyingly, he usually proves it).

turns everything into a competition. “bet i can make you cum in under two minutes.” “bet you can’t stay quiet while i eat you out.”

will straight-up say things like “i trained all day just so i could fuck you properly tonight” with zero shame.

gives the messiest, most enthusiastic head. moans into your pussy like it’s his favorite meal, sucks on your clit like he’s trying to physically pull orgasms out of you, and won’t stop until his face is shiny with your cum.

he always makes sure you cum first. multiple times if he can manage it. his pride is tied to your pleasure.

he loves making you cum while he’s still fully dressed in his monk robes and hat, just to remind you how easily he can wreck you.

makes you ride his muscular thigh until you’re soaked and shaking, then makes you clean up your own mess with your tongue while he praises you.

before he slides his cock in, he rubs the head against your clit every time to make you whimper.

he loves fisting your hair and yanking your head back so he can bite your throat while thrusting deep. light choking too… his hand wrapped around your neck while he stares into your eyes, daring you to keep eye contact as you cum.

after a real argument he’ll storm in, pin you against the wall, and fuck you so hard the furniture shakes. lots of growling “you drive me fucking insane” while slamming into you.

he turns any bath into a slippery, loud mess. sits you on his lap facing him, water sloshing everywhere while he guides your hips and sucks marks into your wet skin.

100% has a breeding kink, and it gets nastier when he’s close — “gonna fill this tight cunt until it overflows… fuck, imagine how pretty you’d look carrying my child.”

he cums inside you almost every time and gets visibly turned on watching it drip out. will push it back in with two thick fingers while telling you how perfect you look “stuffed full of me.”

he gets hard again stupidly fast. you think you’re done after two rounds? he’s already half-hard against your thigh asking if you’re “really tapping out already.”

kung lao doesn’t just fuck you — he claims you, worships you, teases you, ruins you, and then puts you back together like it’s his sacred duty.

the husky clipper drew closer and closer to the finish line, the boat far ahead of the second place shell. the roar of the crowd around you is overwhelming, and you smile with the sheer joy that seems to float in the air. your eyes only have one focus though. on Don Hume. your boyfriend. watching his arms roll the oar, each muscle performing perfectly as he sets the rhythm for the entire boat. his mind is deep in focus as he trains his eyes downward, huffing out breath with each finish of his stroke. Bobby yells out the count in front of him, a steady constant. and just like that, the husky clipper rows itself to victory. smiling, you look around you before directing your gaze back to the boat. Dons looking for you, and he finally finds you. his mouth quirks up in that rare smile, and you wave at him, smiling. the man grins and blushes, looking down at the ties on his feet. Bobby says something to him once he sees where the boy was looking. “hey! Don did good, didn’t he?” Bobby yells, calling out your name. Dons eyes widen as his head whips up to look at Bobby, glaring. but you merely chuckle, nodding along. “he did great, Bobby!” you call back, smiling when you see Dons blush grow even redder. others and himself would blame it on the show of endurance and athleticism, but you and Bobby know better.

the shell tucks into the dock, oars being undone and carried to the shell house. the crowd has dispersed with the setting sun, the crew and close friends remaining. you creep into the large building, finding one familiar face to chat with, your professor. and the head coach of the rowing program. “Mr.Ulbrickson.” you greet the man warmly, and he breaks into a smile when he turns to see you, pulling you into a quick hug. “my favorite student.” he says in return. “the race was amazing. the boys did good.” offering up the compliment, you finish your words. “you coached them well.” Al merely looks to the ground, trying to hide a smile. “they did good, we’ll get them better though.” he replies, looking at the soft planes of your face. “well don’t push them too hard. still need to get Don to a dance this year.” your teacher huffs a small laugh. “get him to do something that’s not rowing or class.” you giggle and nod. “I will sir.” Al’s eyebrows furrow in faux anger. “ah don’t call me that, you’ll make me feel old.” shifting your feet, your hands rest on your hips. “well now Professor Ulbrickson, I thought you just had your 60th birthday! don’t worry, you still have that somewhat youthful glow!” your teacher scoffs and turns to go up the stairs to his office. “you’re getting a F on your paper for that.” he says, walking up the creaky steps. “oh need me to help you up those stairs Professor?” He doesn’t respond this time, brushing you off with a wave of his hand. with a low chuckle you turn to the locker room door, opting to sit on a bench. the cool Washington air drifts in, calming your nerves. the water flows slowly, reflecting off moonlight. it was a good day today. a good race. your team won. Don won. he looked good out there, causing you to blush where you stood as you watched each powerful movement of his legs and arms. everything about the way he controlled his body, it just itched you in a way that made you squirm.

the locker room door opened, letting on the sound of chatter and running showers. you look up, seeing your boyfriend. smiling, you stand and he looks to you, breaking into his own little smile, a rare break for his normal frown. his hair is damp from his shower as he pulls you close, giving your temple a quick kiss. no one here to see you, he’s so much more open around you. “we won.” he whispers, walking up the path to the school. “you won.” you echo. wind blows over the grass, blowing up your skirt slightly. it runs through you and Dons hair, tussling the strands. when you reach Dons dormitory, he’s quiet as a church mouse in opening the door, watching carefully for others. but there’s no one here, not this late. so he brings you to the small room tucked into the basement of the dorm hall, given to him by the university for being on the team. he won’t complain about it, and neither would you. it holds a simple bed on a metal frame next to a wooden desk and chair. on one wall he hangs what clothes he has, the beaten shirts and his one nice jacket. a drawer next to the door holds his pants and other clothes, knick knacks and books sitting on top of it. he reclines in the chair, removing his signature jacket and placing it on the desk. a thought appears into your head again. the one you’ve been thinking about all day.

walking to him slowly, you let him watch you approach, let him see as you straddle his large thighs, curling your hands behind his neck. you watch as blush appears on his cheeks again, and how his eyes trace your face, every detail and every mark. in return, you do the same, remembering every freckle and hair. smiling, you let your hands creep into the hair on the back of his head before pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. you feel his lips part, mouth opening. his eyes probably closed now, trying to savor the feeling of your lips tracing his skin. Dons hands cradle your hips, holding them close to his. beneath you, his member hardens, twitching to life as your kisses drift towards his neck. finally, he catches your mouth on his, trapping you. no one around finally, one hand rests on the nape of your neck, keeping you against him as he presses kisses to your lips and cheek. the feeling of his skin on yours makes the room feel hot, and you let your hips rock back and forth slowly. beneath you, you can feel his length, grinding on it slowly. this is what you wanted. wanted to reward your boyfriend after a hard day like this. but that was a bit hard to do when your mind began to go blank when his lips reached that sensitive spot beneath your ear. it made you shiver, hearing the soft noises that left his lips as well as the feeling of the soft skin on yours. “D-Don.” you whimper, hands moving to his shoulders. Don merely hums in response, lips unmoving. “can we go to the bed?” you whisper softly, pulling away to look at him. you see his eyes turn dark as he nods, rising to let you stand. his nimble fingers pull off the undershirt he wore before placing on the chair. his trousers are next, quickly pulled off along with his boots. next he turns his attention to you, stepping close to trace a finger down your neck. you turn around and let him pull down the zipper of your dress. he helps you step out of it, hanging it over the chair along with his own shirt. your heels come next, and he drops to his knees, helping support you as he pulls them off. you gasp when he presses his lips against the inside of your thigh, hands creeping up to pull off your chemise. left in nothing but your panties, he lets you sit on the bed next to him. your hands drift to his chest, pushing him gently onto his back. Don grunts softly when he feels your hips flush against his, the sensation of them rocking on his erection causing blush to creep down to his collarbone.

“did good today Don.” you say, keeping your hands on his chest, thumbs rubbing the skin softly. the boy beneath you nods, hair falling on his forehead. “looked good too.” you finish, bringing a hand up to trace his jaw. Don merely grins and sits up to kiss you, bucking his hips against your clothed warmth slowly. “felt good to win. d-did it for you.” he replies. Dons mouth always seems to loosen when he gets to be around you alone. “wanted you so bad.” he says, face dipping into the curve of your neck. you can feel his eyelashes brush the skin, and your head falls back, allowing him more access. Don nips at the skin there, running his teeth across the soft and supple surface. he feels your hands creep down between you, trying to tug off his boxers. relenting, Don shifts just enough to help you pull them down, discarding them on the floor. but yours are next thrown onto the pile of forgotten clothes. now, both of you naked, paw at the other. Dons hands feel like they’re everywhere, tracing your spine and holding your thighs apart, running up your torso and holding your breasts, cradling your jaw and brushing hair away from your eyes. he manages to get on top of you, and lets his cock grind against your warmth, being slowly coated in the arousal that drips from you. each push of his hips causes his length to catch on the sensitive nub of your clit, but it never being enough. “Don, please. need you.” whining, your hand travels to hold his shoulder, the other resting on his waist. “in a sec, doll.” he whispers, focused on how your sweet scent drips off you, nose buried in your neck. you let out a groan when he doesn’t relent, continuing his movements. you need more though. so you give him a taste of his own medicine.

your hand creeps down before cupping his balls in your palm, running a thumb over them, causing him to buck his hips harshly. Dons hair brushes against your face and he grunts. “ha-ngh!d-dont do that.” he says, still grinding into your hold. “Don.” you whine again, hoping your pleading tone will get him to actual make love to you. this time, he relents, using a hand to angle his head inside you, catching on the wet entrance. Don pushes his, bottoming out inside you quickly. you both seem to moan in unison when he does. he just feels so good inside you, filling you up just like he always does. and in return, Don finally feels like he’s where he belongs. right next to you like this, consumed by you completely. he feels safe like this. his hips grind against yours, rubbing that spongy spot inside you. “feel good?” he murmurs, bringing his face from your neck to look down at your state. nodding rapidly, both hands come to rest on his shoulders, moving with every thrust of his hips. “m-more.” you beg, and who is Don to say no to you? so he picks up his pace, pulling out more just to plunge back into your cunt just as quickly. “ah! y-yes Don-feels nghhso good.” your breaths leave sporadically now, but Don seems like he’s breathing just fine, his endurance built up by months of rowing. and like he rows his boats, he fucks you with the same care and precision. each punch of his hips inside you are powerful, meant to kiss your cervix each time. his length rubs on the sides of your clenching walls, and you moan out in pleasure with each roll of his muscles.

“Don!” you wail out, clinging his body close. he whispers your name in your ear as he tucks his arms under your back, pulling you close. his legs shift so he sits on his haunches, holding your weight up. the new angle causes his cock to sink deeper, drawing out another pleasured noise from you. the position practically bounced you on him, and he buried his nose in your collarbone, eyes screwing shut as he drills into your inviting warmth. the feeling is incomparable to him, and he lets out audible groans every time you clench on him. his thighs work like a well oiled machine, allowing his hips to pump into you, punishing that spongy spot in you to come. and when you do, you come hard. your body twitches and thighs seize up as a new wave of wetness drips from you, creating a creamy white ring around the base of Dons cock, evidence of your release. “did good, s-so good doll.” he murmurs lowly, only causing you to twitch in his grasp more. “only f’you. nghhhh-only for you.” you respond, trying to get your hips to grind back down on him. Don nods helplessly, mind turning to mush as he has one thing and one thing only in his mind. your cunt. Don pulls out of you, manhandling you gently onto your knees. your hands grip the metal footboard, allowing you to support yourself before he lines up again, plunging into your inviting wetness. “l-love you, doll. too good to me.” Don says, lips against your shoulder. drool drips out of his mouth, pooling on your soft skin as you whine. you’re so close again, body overstimulated from the treatment you’re getting. especially when his right hand comes down to play with your nub, rubbing circles onto it, pushing you closer to another release. your legs begin to give out, knees trembling as your hands slip from the bars. “nghh Don-pleasepleaseplease.” crying out, you’re begging Don for release again, and his hips pick up to match his fingers, drilling into you with unmatched speed and precision “cmon doll, cmon. you can do it.” he whispers, panting harsh breaths. he’s close too, but he wants to feel you clamping down on him again before he fills you up. “come for me doll.” he groans in your ear, and the words send a shiver down your spine and pleasure to your cunt. his fingers work expertly, adding stimulation. when the mushroom head of his length punches against your soft spot again, you cry out, finally releasing on him again. he groans with you, pumping into you once more before spilling into you. his fat cock rubs the sides of your walls, filling you up perfectly. and when his come paints you white, the milky substance sloshing around, your body goes limp, collapsing on the bed. Dons follows not long after, the weight laying on you like a heavy blanket.

Don lets out a few breaths before picking his chest up off you, still keeping his member deep inside your pulsing warmth, letting the both of you ride out your aftershocks. his cock still twitches inside you, spurting out remnants of his release occasionally. in return, your muscles clench on him involuntarily, sucking his cum deeper into you. Don shifts, laying your body in his arms. he finally maneuvers you to the right side of the bed, tucking the two of you under blankets before kissing your cheek. “thank you doll.” he whispers in the night, when you’ve both come down from your highs and his hand rests on your hip. “thank you, Don.” is all you reply with. “that was a good reward. do I get that every time I win a race?” he teases, and you scoff. “no. not unless you compensate me for the ache that’ll follow me all of tomorrow. I’ll have a limp at the rate you were going.” you banter back. “oh im sure you can make something up.” Don says, tracing your shoulder with his pointer finger. “mm. going to explain to all my professors why I mysteriously have a limp after every won racing match.” you say. “you mean just racing match. we’re going to win them all.” he whispers, an edge of pride and confidence creeping in. he deserves it, after all the blood sweat and tears that have gone into perfecting his stroke and the time in the team. “sure. you can explain to Professor Ulbrickson why I have a limp.” Don chuckles and merely wraps you closer to him, dozing off in the Washington night.

An:yikes this one got long but like do I regret it? NOPE. LET ME HAVE HIS BABIES STILL.

-cass💕:D

😝this was so fun to write.

Don Hume - The Quiet One

Sitting across from Don, Y/n bit her lip, holding back a laugh at the look on his face as he rowed them across the lake. It was the same furrowed brows and tight lipped frown she noticed he had on whenever he was focused on something. Like when he was reading, or taking notes in class, or playing the piano. But despite the tension on his face, Y/n was impressed seeing how he handled the oars with such confidence and ease. After all those weeks of training, it had become like second nature to him. If she hadn’t known any better – that the first time he’d ever even picked up an oar was at tryouts – she would’ve thought he’d been rowing all his life.  

Feeling her staring, Don met her eyes. The steady rhythm of his movements faltered for a second seeing the amused look on her face. He blinked hard, growing a bit self conscious. Why was she looking at him like that? He worried maybe he looked awkward or silly. He’d never thought about it until now – what he looked like rowing a boat that is. After all, he’d never had to do it in front of anyone he cared to impress like his girl before. But now, that was all he could think about. 

He quickly averted his eyes, turning them back to the water, trying to get his rhythm back. Behind his yes, Y/n could see the gears still turning in his head, his face contorting from concentration to confusion, and she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

Don’s arms paused mid-stroke at the sound of her laughing. He may not have been much of a talker, but with facial expressions as loud as his, he didn’t need to be. He turned to her with creased brows and pleading eyes, silently asking what she was laughing at. His mind racing with all the possibilities until she finally answered. 

“You make the cutest face when you're all focused y’know.”

A light shade of pink spread across his cheeks and his lips formed a small, sheepish smile. Far too humble for his own good, he shook his head in response, brushing it off. But y/n insisted. 

“Oh, yes you do, Donny. Looks just like this.” She tried her best to keep a straight face as she mimicked him. Brows knit together and lips pouted into as big a frown as she could muster without bursting into laughter. Seeing her exaggerated impersonation, he couldn’t help but laugh now too. 

“And you think that’s cute?” he wondered aloud. 

“I do,” Y/n nodded. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, bringing their faces just inches apart now. 

Ignoring the way his heart thumped against his chest at their proximity, Don, pulled in by some magnetic force between them, found himself leaning forward too. His grip on the oars tightened in suspense as he caught her gaze falling from his eyes to his lips.  

“I think it's the cutest,” she assured him once more before finally closing the small gap between them.

It didn’t matter how long they’d been together at that point, the feeling of her lips against his always sent a jolt of electricity through him. Don’s eyes widened in surprise for a split second before dropping the oars, to cup her face sweetly. His eyes shut tight, deepening their kiss.

George Hunt - Loverboy 

It was a rare day. Not only was the sun shining down on them, but for once, both George and Y/n were free at the same time. Seizing the opportunity, he thought it’d be a great idea to go on an afternoon boat ride together. It’s been a while since he’s had the chance to take her out on a proper date - probably not since rowing tryouts started. And now that he officially made the team, between classes, practice and his part time job, he didn’t have much free time to spare.

As they walked hand in hand down towards the dock, he thought of how lucky he was to call her his girl. She was so supportive and understanding through it all. Bringing him supper after long days of rowing, staying up late in the library studying with him, always keeping his spirits high when he felt like giving up. He brought the back of her hand up to his lips placing a tender kiss against it. There was no way he could’ve gotten through it all without her. 

Reaching their row boat, George dropped her hand to begin prepping it for their trip out on the lake. Waiting on the dock, Y/n basked in the sunlight. It was shining brighter than it had all season, warming her skin against the cool breeze. 

“You picked the perfect day to do this. It’s beautiful out,” she said.

He flashed her a cheeky grin. “Not nearly as beautiful as you.”

“Always such a charmer aren’t you,” she teased, handing him the basket she packed for them.

Grabbing the basket, he rolled his eyes at her dramatically making sure didn’t miss it. It was no secret that he had been a bit of a ladies man in the past – something y/n surely never let him forget – but that all changed when he met her. She was undoubtedly a beautiful girl on the outside, but it was her inner beauty that had him falling for her fast and hard. The welcoming warmth of her presence. The way her smile always brought out his even on the toughest days. How kind and thoughtful she always was. He meant what he said. No matter how beautiful today was, it was nothing compared to her.

“Yeah, but you’re the only one I care about charming,” he clarified before offering her his free hand to help her onto the boat. 

“I better be,” she warned him playfully.

Before setting the basket down, he took a quick peek inside and whistled in delight seeing she had packed some of her homemade apple pie in there. “As long as you keep making these pies like you do, you’ve got nothing to worry about sweetheart. I’m all yours.”

She gasped in mock-offense, slapping his arm lightly. “What did you just say?”

“I’m kidding,” he relented, holding his hands up in surrender. He settled into his seat, looking into her eyes genuinely, his voice shifting into a more sincere tone. “But I mean it, Y/n. I’ve only got eyes for you. Pies or not.”

Chuck Day - The Rascal 

Y/n couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this. It was already midnight and they were just now getting to the dock. She knew better than to be swayed by Chuck’s charming wiles. Unfortunately it was easier said than done. Especially when he was standing in the courtyard below her window, looking up at her with those bright blue eyes, asking her to go on a moonlit boat ride with him. 

Initially she had said no. It was a romantic idea, but it was already so late. Not to mention they both had class in the morning as well. 

But he wasn’t taking no for an answer. C’mon, live a little y/n, he shouted in a whisper up at her. It’ll be fun. Seeing her resolve weaken, Chuck sealed the deal by flashing her that boyish smile of his she knew all too well. That darn smile that meant he was up to no good. And yet it was the same darn smile that had her going against her better judgment, again. She left caution behind in her bedroom, and snuck out of her dormitory on her tiptoes to meet him in the courtyard.

At the dock, Y/n followed hesitantly as Chuck led her to an old, dinky canoe. As she watched him untie the boat from the dock, her arms crossed instinctively as her voice of reason kicked back in. Sneaking out here after hours was one thing, but boat-theft? 

“What if we get caught?” 

“Relax. We’re not stealing it or anything. We’re just borrowing it for a little,” he smirked back at her. “Besides, nobody’s gonna catch us. Nobody’s out here.” 

Her doubts only grew watching the way he stepped in the boat and inspected it a bit skeptically. She wasn’t an expert by any means, but even she could tell it was probably a bit unsafe. But he assured her the oars were still in okay shape, the hull looked fine, and there were no leaks. This boat would do. It kind of had to. It was the only boat out here.

With that he got up and held out his hand for her. She looked down at it, unsure of herself for a moment. His brows raised at her expectantly, urging her to take it. 

“We’re already out here, might as well make the best of it,” he pointed out. She hated to admit it, but he was right. She had already risked sneaking out of the dorm, already made the trek all the way out to the dock, and already lost precious hours of sleep. It would all be for nothing if she didn’t at least end up having a good time. She sighed in defeat before finally taking his hand. 

Settling into her seat, she shook her head at him, a teasing look in her eyes. “Starting to think maybe my friends were right about you after all - nothing but trouble.”

“But that’s exactly why you can’t get enough of me,” he bantered back cockily, rowing them out onto the water. 

Y/n scoffed. “That’s rich coming from the rascal who was just throwing rocks at my window. Seems like it’s you who can’t get enough of me, Chuck Day.”

“Oh baby, you’ve got me there,” he admitted adoringly. “Like a moth to a flame.”

Joe Rantz - Prince Charming

For once, Joe was in a boat relaxing rather than working his ass off. 

Y/n said she had wanted to learn how to row, and he was more than happy to teach her. So early this morning, before the break of dawn, he walked all the way across campus to meet her outside of her dorm just to walk all the way back out to the docks again together. It was a cold and wet morning but he didn’t mind one bit. Even with the soles of his shoes all worn, he’d walk another thousand steps if it meant making her smile. 

At the moment however, out on the lake trying her best to move the boat along, she wasn’t smiling much. He’d given her a quick rundown, showed her just what to do before letting her have a go. After all, the best way to learn was by doing. But she’d been at it for a while now and was obviously struggling. He knew she was not letting go of those oars until she got it down though. Even if it meant they’d be here all day and night. Some might call it stubborn. Y/n would argue it was determination. Either way you put it, Joe loved that about her. 

“Remember to pull the oar closer to your lower ribs,” he reminded her gently.

“Like this,” she asked breathlessly, her efforts starting to take their toll. 

“Yeah, kinda,” he chuckled. “Here, let me show you.”

The boat rocked slightly as he shuffled to sit beside her, wrapping his arms around hers. The warmth of his body against hers felt nice against the early morning chill. She nestled closer into him as he placed his hands over hers, guiding her movements. 

Forward and back, forward and back, they moved the oars in tandem. Falling into the rhythm he set, her pursed lips spread into a small triumphant smile. 

“Atta girl,” Joe praised in her ear. “You’ve got the hang of it now.”

As she moved them along the lake with more ease she noticed he hadn’t moved back to his seat yet. His arms remained wrapped around her despite no longer helping to push the oars along.

“You can let go now, y’know. Sit back and enjoy the ride,” Y/n pointed out. 

“No, I’m enjoying it just fine where I’m at actually,” he whispered, the warmth of his breath brushing against her neck. 

“Is that right?” she teased, turning to face him now.

“Yeah. Out on the lake during sunrise, my girl in my arms? Why would I wanna move?” he asked, leaning in closer and closer with each word.