bigenergy777

[bigenergy777]

SHERIFF’S DAUGHTER

✧ 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

✧ 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚞��𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚍.

✧ 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝙳𝙽�� - 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 (𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐)

✧ 𝚊𝚗: 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎 <3

✧ 3.3𝚔 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜

✧ 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

You sat at the table with your father. His first meal home in 6 nights, the same night when you just so happened to be home too. You honestly thought you’d be alone. You know he’s angry at you. He didn’t look at you once since he’s entered the house. In his defense, you haven't been around for months. You’re 18 after all you could do as you please. You had a life, others that depended on you, he couldn’t fault you for that.

But could he blame you? You had your boyfriend and your friends. Then, everything turned to shit. Complete and utter shit. Your friends needed you now more than ever. And unbeknownst to your father, yet, despite all of the mess he caused you couldn’t keep away from the man you loved. You could feel the resentment seeping out of his pores, that you chose them over him.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Six months ago was your first real encounter with Rafe. You were tucked away sitting by the shore, clearing your head of the bonfire that was going on. Your friends had dragged you out but you didn’t want to be there. You gave in but once they were distracted, you took the chance to get away. Rafe had done the same. Wanting to get away of being the center of attention, away from all the expectations that come with being a Cameron. You spent the entire night together, just the two of you. To your surprise, he opened up a lot, you as well. You went home with him, waking up the next morning, naked and wrapped around him. After that you spent almost every night at his.

Five months ago you began dating officially. The only people who knew were his friends and yours. You had told him the reservations your father had about her being involved with him and his family, but you ensured him that didn’t matter to you. Your friends were reluctant but trusted your judgment, meanwhile his friends too every opportunity to make fun of Rafe for wanting someone who slums it with the pogues like you do. But nothing stopped either of you from carrying on in the relationship. You continued splitting your time between him and your friends. Coming home every once in a while to reset and leave again.

Four months ago you and Rafe were having the times of your lives sneaking around. It was a thrill that never seemed to get old. He had bought you a matching blue dress for the night of Midsummers and despite you not being able to go with him. He had worn the same tux and took you out to the mainland the night after. He was a dream when you were together. What did get old was trying to pull him out of his old ways. The ways that constantly got him into fights with your friends. They'd keep the interactions from you, and of course, he'd never bother to tell you. The day on the golf course with Pope, and the night of Midsummers. You didn't speak to him for a week after fight at the summer night movie. He still couldn't take the hint. But you loved him nonetheless.

Three months ago Rafe began to feel the weight of his father’s relentless demands of him being a better son and prodigy of the Cameron legacy. The drugs sucked him in and his father kicked him out. He spent a few nights sneaking into your bedroom before finding a place to crash. One morning, when you had stayed over, you woke up to an empty house. You spent the entire day waiting for him to return but he never did. You were snapped out of any thought running rampant in your mind, when a dozen frantic texts came through from Kie and JJ. You rushed out of the pristine Figure 8 mansion to find your friends bunkered in Kie's car at an abandoned shack. Desperate for answers, you don't stop until they tell you John B was wrongfully accused of killing Peterkin. In that moment you felt key details were left out but no one seemed to want to give them to you.

Two months ago it had been a whole month since you've pieced everything together. You had learned that Rafe was the one who pulled the trigger. When he and Barry cornered you and your friends while trying to retrieve John B and Sarah's getaway. It was a day that everything you knew about him was shattered. He was a murderer, for the sake of his father, the one he told you over and over that he hated. The same day you cried out for Pope to stop choking him out because despite everything you still loved him. The same day, John B and Sarah were sent out into the storm and presumed dead. The same day that in a time of need, you had wished it was Rafe's arms around you and not your father's as you sobbed over your friends.

One month ago you and the Pogues discovered John B and Sarah were alive. This was all you needed to jump into action and clear your friend's name. Spying on Ward, jumping into sewers, getting flushed out of sewers, bringing the murder weapon to your father, who seemed more interested in the fact that Kie smelled than the fact that you were brining him cold hard evidence. No matter how hard you tried, it always seemed to fail. All the while, you were still sneaking around with Rafe. You couldn't stop the temptations of wanting to be with. Other than the week of initail shock that two of your best friends were gone. You were back in his bed, naked and tangled up in the sweat covered sheets, just like your first night together.

Two weeks ago John B and Sarah had made it back to OBX. You confided to Sarah and only Sarah that you couldn't keep away from Rafe. She was understanding, she understood love and the way that if something was real it couldn't be stopped. Her telling you that Rafe knew she was alive and shot her in the Bahamas, made you sick. Literally, you couldn't stop the bile from coming up if you wanted to. She promised you that your secret was safe and things seemed ok for now. Boy was she wrong. John B was caught and a death sentence was on the table. You pleaded with your father to see the truth but it seemed that it only fell on deaf ears. He seemed confident this was justice for his friend and colleague.

One week after that was when your world was spun upside down yet again.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The only sounds that echoed through the kitchen was the silverware clanking against the dishes. You were honestly afraid that any little movement you made would set him off. You ate as fast as you could before getting up and placing your things in the dishwasher.

You kept your head down as you made your way towards the living room before your father’s voice breaks through the silence. “Leaving so soon?”

“I was gonna head out. It doesn’t seem like you want me here.”

“Sit down." Shoupe's voice was low but demanding. It was an octave that he used throughout your whole life and one that you knew something bad was coming.

You do as your told. Taking back the seat across the table from your father. His eyes never leave yours. His demeanor is tough and shut off. Almost as if he was sitting on the opposite side of an interrogation table and you were a suspect.

"I know I didn't take you and your friends seriously at first and I know these past two months have been hard on you and I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you more. I'm sorry that I let work get in the way. I'm sorry you didn't think I believed in you."

You look down at the table, feeling the weight of his words. It has been hard. You felt as if your own father was against you the entire time. Just because of who was suspected. No one cares about a Pogues life on this island. You were convinced that no matter what was given to him that it wouldn't matter. Even if that meant turning in your Rafe.

His eyes soften just a bit as he continues, "and although I do not like who you surround yourself with, please know that I am very sorry to them as well. None of you, especially John B deserved it."

In the blink of an eye, his face hardened again once he began to speak about the next part. You still haven't said a word. You know where this is going and even though it's what you wanted for the sake of your friends. It doesn't hurt any less.

"It may not have seemed like it at the time, but I took what you said seriously. That's how the SBI found the Cameron's fingerprints on the gun. You and your friends were how we took them down. You should be proud, I'm proud to see your dedication to your friend."

You let go of a breath you've been holding in. Your dad was proud. You haven't felt that feeling from him in a long time. This wasn't the way you expected for this conversation to go. "Thank you, dad. Seriously. I know I give you a hard time for wanting to be with them all the time. But I love them and I don't regret anything I did."

"I'm glad you didn't because we got the right person. The Cameron's are snakes. Ward is a conniving son of bitch who's buys his way out of everything, but he couldn't this time. We got Rafe this morning and the only way he was able to get him out was to blow himself up. A man with such arrogance, turned out to be such a pussy. His son is a drug addicted brat and he's a poor excuse for a man."

You were locked in place. Frozen by your father's words. You wanted to agree but the words were stuck.

"But you already knew everything that happened this morning, right sweetheart?"

Before you could say anything, your father reached into his pocket and slid over something to you. It was like everything was happening in slow motion. You watched as it made its way over to you, stopping right at the edge of the table. It was your hair clip. The one your mother gave to you before she passed, the one she wore every day, the one you now wore every day in memory of her.

You felt as if the walls were closing in. You hear your father chuckle to himself. But the ringing in your ears made it seem like he was miles away. You felt hot, suffocatingly hot. The skin around your nails began to bleed from how deep you were picking at them. You felt sick, and you swore you were about to pass out. Your trembling hands reached out and picked up the floral hair clip.

"You want to tell me why we found that in Rafe Cameron's car this morning when we searched it?" Your father shouted as he slammed his hand on the table. It made you flinch and you closed your eyes. "I'd really like to understand why my daughter's, who was told to stay the fuck away from that kid, hairclip that she never goes anywhere without, was in his vehicle!"

The memory of today flashed through your mind in an instant.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

You had woken up at the Chateau, on top of Kie crammed on the couch, to a slamming of the front door. John B stood there a free man. Everyone surrounded him questioning him about his release.

"They just let me go, but you should know, they're going after Rafe."

Everyone looked over to Sarah, but Sarah looked at you. Your stomach turned. On one hand you were happy John B's name was cleared, but this meant you may never see Rafe again. Just in the nick of time, your phone buzzed on the cluttered coffee table.

Rafe: Baby, please come see me. I don't have a lot of time.

You gave Sarah a knowing look and she nodded, giving you an ok to through on your sneakers and rush out the door with out any answers.

You made your way to Rafe's location. Barry's house, of course. You entered without knocking to see Rafe with his head in his hands. You rushed over to him immediately and pulled him in for a hug. Barry, being who he is, couldn't help but mock the sight. Rafe gave him a look before pulling you, outside and into the back seat of his truck.

“My dad was just here. I’m leaving, but I needed to see my girl one last time.”

“Where are you going?” Your voice broke slightly. He was no good but he was your Rafe. You didn’t want him to leave you.

“Wilmington for now. Then I don’t know. I needed you now though.”

You knew what he was asking of you and held back tears as he pulled you in for a kiss. Much to his luck you showed up in a mini skirt. It was already bunched up at your waist. You were pulled into his lap as he kissed down your neck. Your hands roamed tugging at his shirt and pulling it off. His belt and pants were next. He was rock hard for you. It didn’t take much.

He held your panties to the side as you sunk down onto him. He every inch of him stretched you out. You halted once you met his thighs. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his as you slowly rolled your rolled your hips. Rafe met your movements, jutting his up into you.

The passion of the moment sent him into overdrive. He had wrapped his arms around your waist, locking you in place as he firmly planted his feet on the floor of the truck. He lifted you slightly giving him enough room to hammer into you. Moans, heavy pants and the wet sound of your soaked cunt filled the cabin. Most likely Barry’s living room too, because there was no way he couldn’t hear the sounds that came out of you.

Rafe’s moves never faltered. You cried out in his ear and it was pure pleasure for him, “fff-fuck, gonna miss you baby.”

“Don’t stop, I don’t want it to end.” You let out a powerful moan and tucked your face into the crook of his neck. How long was it going to be until you could hold him again?

You came unexpectedly. Gripping tightly onto Rafe’s hair as your legs shook from the orgasm. This didn’t stop Rafe though, he continued his brutal pace. Taking one of arms from around you, his thumb found its way to your swollen clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. Just like he did, you matched his thrusts in a perfect rhythm. Each drop, each swirl of his thumb sent you into a frenzy.

You braced yourself, one arm on the ceiling, one in the drivers side headrest. Rafe’s other hand snaked up your shirt and played with your nipple, back and forth between each breast.

“Gimme one more baby, you said you didn’t want it to end.”

His command was all it took. You soaked his entire lap, Rafe meeting his peak right after. He had never been so vocal before but every twitch of his cock was matched with a throaty moan. Once he came down, he pulled you back into him and he rested his head on your chest. He didn’t want to let go but he knew he had no time left.

You swore you’d never seen Rafe Cameron again when Barry whisked him away on that shitty little boat. You held back tears as you watched him go, it was only until you were certain he was out of sight that that you fell to the ground sobbing.

You had composed yourself on the way back to the Chateau, only to be dragged back out to the Twinkie as they were going to see Ward get arrested. You were met with your dad at the dock trying to get him back in. The eruption, the flames, the debris, you could only picture the shambles that Rafe’s life had become. He was consumed by his father, wanting to be the perfect son, even though he knew he’d never be in the eyes of Ward.

You told your friends that you were just going to head home after what just happened. No one questioned you. After your friends dispersed, you snuck back into Tannyhill and sat on the edge of Rafe’s bed for a few hours before hearing the turn of the doorknob. He was back, he was safe, and his cruel, piece of shit father was gone. You held him for hours before actually heading home, leaving him to deal with family matters.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

“Hello?! I asked you a god damn question!” Your father’s voice rang out bringing you back into the moment. Back to the present after all that has happened today.

Reliving all that happened today, you realized now how the hair clip had gotten lost. The heat of the moment in the car, the emotional turmoil the rest of the day entailed was almost too much to bear. It must've slipped out when you and Rafe were together in there. You didn’t even know, it wasn’t with you anymore. This could not be more humiliating.

“I saw Rafe before he was arrested.”

Your father raised an eyebrow. “And why would you do that?”

“Because,” your throat suddenly got dry, but you forced the words out regardless, “because he’s my boyfriend and he has been for months.”

You didn’t know if your father wanted to cry or slam his chair into the ground repeatedly. He didn’t say a single word. He didn’t need to. You knew what was going on inside his mind. If he wasn’t angry before, he certainly is now.

“He was gonna skip town, which I know you already know, and he wanted to see me before he left. I wanted to see him. I couldn’t not see him. I love him.”

Your head dipped at those last three words you said to him. Not out of embarrassment, but because of how immorally wrong you felt, telling your father how much you loved the murderer of his friend. It was worse now, because his dad took the fall for what he did and you both knew that. There is no real justice for Susan.

“I know you hate that family, but you don’t understand. Rafe did bad things but he is not a bad person. Ward is the scum of the empire he created. Rafe now has a second chance to prove himself without him here. And I won’t leave him.”

Still your father hadn’t said a single word. He was seething.

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment. I’m sorry I’m torn in the middle of Pogues and Kooks. I’m sorry you think my friends are worthless and I’m sorry my boyfriend is who he is. But I can’t help who becomes apart of my family.”

Finally after all this time. After all your rambling. After every betraying word that came out of your mouth. Your father could only muster up one.

“Leave.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune thank you @rafesteddy for showing me where to find them. 🫶🏼

Tags + some moots <3 @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @diasnohibng @slurpdew @alphabetically-deranged @runawayrafetrain @currentresidentinhell @slut-4-rafey @akobx @laniirackssss @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4you @larema121 @sc05 @k4yr14 @chromeheartsbaby @jennieonline @maybejj @inthelibrarybtw @cherrywriterrr @memoirofasparklemuff1n @idk-tbh127 @moondustbaby @writingroom21 @maybankslover @papercranesandinkstains @rcwhore @nemesyaaa

[bigenergy777]

Pogue on Pogue | JJ Maybank

M A S T E R L I S T Outer Banks Masterlist

smut requests info w.c | 8.9k summary | you and jj are together, despite both being pogues. You knew you’d have to hide your relationship from the rest of the pogues, and what makes it worse? John B is your twin brother.

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[bigenergy777]

Happy Father's Day DILF!Rafe 🩵

[bigenergy777]

Movie Night |

Marcus Baker x fem!oc

• WARNINGS . . . swearing, alcohol, descriptions of sex, fluff, and smut

"I'm not like other guys" He says in his best douche voice, eliciting a small laugh from you. He looks down at your face and smiles at the way you're looking at him with hearts in your eyes, although he feels a bit of guilt pang in his chest. Marcus was reluctant to go mostly anywhere that wasn't a room with only you and him in it, and sometimes he felt like a ball and chain because of that, even though you genuinely didn't mind staying in with him.

So of course that's what you offer, "But seriously if you want to stay in then I don't mind having a movie night" his face scrunches up as soon as the words leave your mouth and he tilts his head to the side in thought. "There will be other parties, I will be okay" you say reassuring those heavy thoughts stacking up in his head.

"Yes, but if you really want to go I will get dressed" he says flashing a soft smile, eyes studying how you had already fixed your hair and makeup.

"And if you really don't want to go i'll get undressed" you tell him getting up and taking your shoes back off.

"Or you two could separate for a few hour like normal people" Max interrupts as she walks behind the couch, beelining for the spot in the kitchen containing pregame shots.

"And thank you Max for your helpful input" Marcus say sarcastically while throwing his head back, watching you walk away to go change.

Max rolls her eyes and throws back her last shot. "This is a common area" she says reminding him with a glare.

"I'll have fun either way, you will not. Parties with a bunch of drunk and coked out white kids are also very negotiable in my tier list of parties" You tell him returning from your room, finishing pulling down one of his shirts over your body.

"There is a tier list?" he asks sitting up and holding his arms out for you.

"Absolutely" You tell him sitting sideways in his lap, "And Marcus movie parties rank very very high" you say the last part into his cheek, giving him an innocent kiss and grabbing the remote from the arm of the chair.

"Okay we're leaving now. Love you, mean it" Max yells through the room, making her way out the door.

"Hate you!" Marcus yells out before you can even respond

You call out immediately after him, "Kidding" finishing what he was most likely not going to say at all and with that Max slammed the door and you two were all alone. You shot Marcus an unamused stare and he raised his eyebrows in a silent defense.

"You're so gorgeous" he speaks quietly, turning your stare into a look more softened and sweet.

You turned your head quickly and mumbled,"Shut up." You got up from lap again telling him to "Pick a movie" as you went into the bathroom to remove all your make up and then into the kitchen to grab a few snacks and drinks.

You rounded the couch, picking up a spare blanket and throwing it over both yourself and Marcus. He scrolled through the menu on the tv for a while not knowing what to pick as you looked up, admiring his facial features.

He haphazardly put on a movie you both had already seen before. "Hi" he smiled down at you, reaching his hand up to hold the side of your face.

"Hi" you greeted him back as his thumb began to softly glide across the skin of your cheek.

He lowers his head, connecting your lips softly. Marcus was more than great kisser and he always knew how to melt you into a puddle. He leaned further into the kiss, deepening it and you let him take control completely.

The feeling of his tongue in your mouth and his lips against yours put a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. Even a passionate kiss could get you rilled up and he knew it.

One of your hands traveled from his neck to under his shirt fairly quickly and your fingers ghosted under the waistline of his sweatpants even faster. As soon as your finger danced past the elastic band you could feel him smirk against your lips.

Marcus moved his hands to hold your neck and waist firmly to lay you down across the couch. He towered over you and broke the kiss, moving to trail soft open mouthed kisses down your neck. Your hands trailed across his back and softly ran through his hair. You could feel both his hands move down to hold you hips, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your boy shorts "Can I take these off?" he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You nod your head and mumble an soft "Mhm" making his hands freeze in their place. "Yes, I mean" you say quickly knowing that Marcus loves hearing your verbal consent more than anything else.

"Uh huh, good girl" he says lowly, sucking a particular spot on your neck softly, contrasting the way he immediately pulls your shorts and underwear down. His hand drags back up your thigh, to where you need him most and his thumb runs up and down your slit, slowly pushing in two fingers and using his thumb to make circular motions on your clit. "Right here?" he asks adding pressure that's makes you respond with a whiny "yes" into his ear, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin.

He moves his fingers around almost teasingly until you place a hand on his chest and look up at him with pleading eyes, "Marcus, I think i'm ready" You implied that you needed more with a frustrated huff, moving your hands to his pull his pants down. He watches you take his already hard dick out of his boxers, his eyes blown out and full of lust trail from your hands up to your face. He pulls his fingers out completely and guides himself back to your entrance. He slowly pushes the tip in first, watching your face for a reaction. He cautiously pushes himself in further, bottoming out completely. You writhe under him, arching your back enough to make him use his free hand to firmly hold your hip, pressing your lower half firmly into the couch. You clutch his forearm and quietly beg him to go faster. He nods and pants out, "Yes baby" with his eyebrows furrowing, and putting his head in your shoulder, kissing whatever parts of your skin his lips could touch.

He pulls all the way out bottoms out with every thrust, hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll back. You tighten your hold on him and choke out whimpers with every long stroke.

Marcus takes directions on how to pleasure you so well that eventually you have no other directions to give him. You end up just moaning out nonsensical pleases and thank yous.

The last whine that leaves your mouth causes him to kiss you hungrily, swallowing every sound you make. Your sounds riled him up more than anything, he loved the validation that came from them, telling him he was doing a good job. He loved hearing you, but he was also about to prematurely cum solely off of hearing you moan out a simple yes or please. Everything you did was sexy to him, he couldn't help it.

"Shit" he cursed into a half broken kiss, making you fully break it out of curiosity. "I'm gonna cum soon" he heavily pants a warning, voice gone deep and husky.

"Me too" you tell him nodding, hurriedly. His hand moves down in between you two, rubbing at you clit again lightly. It makes your walls squeeze and the sounds of his grunts start putting pornographic thoughts into your head. "Cum in me" You moan, you lips just barley touching his, when he creates more space to look up at you with a animalistic stare.

"Anything for you" he smirks before kissing you again. His strokes become faster along with his fingers and the next time you clench around him he throws his head back into your shoulder, both of you riding your highs out together. "I love you" he huffs out, kissing your temple and massaging the skin of your hips, where he was worried he held too tight.

"I love you too" you spoke softly, rubbing the back of his head and neck.

"I should go get a rag" He suggests, tapping your thigh softly.

"Don't get anything on my couch" you whined, begging him to save your furniture.

"I'll just take you with me and we can hop in the shower" He lifted his head up, looking down at you with a shit eating grin.

You feel him move around and adjust his hold on you, it makes your eyes go wide, "Marcus! No-" you're cut off as he lifts you from the couch and begins to walk quickly towards the bathroom.

[bigenergy777]

Old Prison Blues | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | dom!spencer x bau!reader requests info w.c | 7.2k summary | when your husband Spencer gets released from Prison, he's much different then you remember.

I have it so bad for this man, enjoy! Also guys this piece made butterflies squirm in my belly lmao this one is so HOT it made me blush. Guys, it made me B L U S H. I need to go dunk myself in holy water to atone for this SIN. (just kidding lmao I'm agnostic).

you can see his bulge in this gif and I can't stop admiring looking at it.

When you were in college you'd been an undergraduate in Criminal Justice, so you were familiar with the effects Prison has on the psyche. In other words, you knew Spencer would come back different. No person could pass through Prison unscathed and frankly you'd be more concerned if he came back and nothing had changed at all. At home, he seemed to be relatively okay, and those 6 mandatory weeks of break had allowed him the rest he deserved. Nothing exciting had happened during those weeks, the only thing you did was curl up on the couch next to him and watch movies. You'd made up for all those weeks in Prison during the evenings when you would cling to him and cry out his name in ecstasy.

Spencer really did seem to be fine, until you returned to work. That's when you started to see all the ways Prison had hardened him.

At first, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. If you were someone who knew Spencer well then you knew that he wasn't a man who was confident in his looks. When you and Spencer first got married he was insecure, and would be discouraged when you hung out with other guys. You wouldn't say he was jealous because jealously in itself requires a certain amount of anger. But when Spencer saw you around other men he wasn't angry, he was sad. Absolutely convinced you were going to leave him any second, despite you telling him you married him because you love him. Deep down, he always thought somebody would steal you from him even though you consistently reminded him how much you love him. That's just the kind of guy Spencer is.

Or, was.

The darkness that brews in Prison, the violent hatred, the anger seems to have followed Spencer to freedom. It has made a home in his chest, and while you're not worried about Spencer flying off the deep end and shooting an innocent, the anger reveals itself in much more subtle ways. It's in the way he clenches his jaw when he can't figure something out, or the blanching of his knuckles as he grips the steering wheel with a crushing force, it's the agitation in his eyes when he watches Alvez's knuckles brush against your lower back for the 3rd time since you two had arrived at the office this morning. The anger has adapted to civilian life like Spencer has, it's learned. It's subtle. Unfortunately you know Spencer almost better then he knows himself, you can tell when something is bothering him.

You slide your hands over his shoulders, and much to your surprise you feel him tense.

"You okay?" You know it's a stupid question, but you have to ask.

"Yeah, fine." Spencer's tone is clipped, shoulders rigid, back straight. Something is definitely bothering him. You squeeze his shoulders and begin to work at the tightened muscles, slowly easing them to relax. The tension flows out of him as he relaxes back in his desk chair, the frustration ebbing away slightly when his eyes catch your wedding ring. The object that binds you to him.

"Don't shut me out." You whisper, a soft plea in your voice. Spencer's heart wretches when he hears the fear in your tone, and one of his hands comes up to catch yours. He presses a chaste kiss to one of your knuckles before swiveling around to face you. You always find a way to soothe the violent, raging beast inside of him. Spencer's hands find your hips as he turns his gaze up to look at you.

"You're right I'm sorry. Just tense today." He says softly, and while there is a little lie to his words, his statement remains mostly the truth. He just leaves out the part where he pictures enacting varying forms of violence on Luke Alvez. The man who keeps unnecessarily touching his wife. You lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, your head snapping up when Garcia calls from the conference room.

"Got a case folks, and it's an ugly one." Her nose scrunches up into a frown before she turns into the room. You pull away from Spencer, yanking him to his feet by his hand. Luke sends you a playful wink as he trots up the stairs, and while you don't necessarily react to it, it still puts Spencer on edge. Deep down Spencer always knew you were way out of his league, but that never became clearer then when you came to visit him in Prison.

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You were trembling as you lowered yourself into the chair. Dried tears were on your cheeks, and you haven't even seen Spencer yet. The last time you saw him was a few weeks prior after he first got back from Mexico. Seeing his wrists bound in those metal handcuffs had broken your heart in a way you never anticipated. You wrung your hands together, luckily when Penelope had made the visitation Chart she scheduled you as the first person to come see him. The plastic chair was uncomfortable, but what was worse was the plastic guard separating you from Spencer. The clock ticked loudly, it was clearly mocking you. Reminding you of the seconds you were losing with Spencer, reminding you of all the seconds he was spending in Prison.

When you hear the buzzer scream loudly, you nearly come out of your seat you're so excited to see him. You and Spencer got married back in 2005, and you've never been separated from him for longer then a week. It's been over a month now, and each day he's not with you leaves a bigger hole in your chest. You watch him follow the other prisoners out, and the handcuffs around his wrists breaks your heart. His eyes light up the second he sees you, he nearly shoves the other guy over to get to you faster. There are tears in your eyes as Spencer's wrists are released from the cuffs from the guard standing nearby.

"Hey baby." Spencer says softly as he takes his seat across from you. All you want is to reach across the stupid barrier and touch him, hold his hand, anything. But you know the guards will punish him if he does, but being this close to him without being able to hold him is absolutely killing you. You try to blink the tears out of your eyes so that Spencer won't see, but it's all too much. Seeing him in a jumpsuit, with cuff bruises around his wrists, having to sleep in the same building as murderers. The first tear falls and you immediately look away from him.

"Please don't cry." Spencer begs softly. "I'm okay, really."

You wipe your tears before you look back up at him, digging around in your bag for a gift from Henry. You smile when you see the happiness cross onto his face as you pull the piece of paper out.

"Henry drew this for you, it's from when you guys went to the park." You hold it up for him to see and you try to fight another onslaught of tears when you see his eyes misting.

"You know, when I get out of here we should have one." Spencer says it so casually, you almost miss it. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you carefully lower the drawing.

"You want to try for a baby?" You can't hide the smile, and you see Spencer's eyes shine for the first time since he's been in here.

"Yeah, I want to have a baby with you." You and Spencer had a brief conversation about kids a few years ago, and you knew Spencer wasn't ready for it back then. His Father ran out on him and Diana when Spencer was just a kid, it made Spencer insecure about the type of Father he would end up being. In Spencer's mind, a fatherless man would never make a good Father. But it seems he's changed his mind. You had no issues agreeing to wait before you had kids until he was ready, you always knew Spencer would be a fantastic Father.

Suddenly from Spencer's right you hear a low wolf whistle. The tenderness that was on Spencer's face is instantly wiped away. His expression tenses, his jaw clenching as he turns his gaze to a large burly looking man covered in tattoos. The man sitting across from him, the one who was visiting, looked similar. Both of the biker looking men were eyeing me hungrily, it made my skin crawl.

"Something I can help you with?" Spencer asks, his voice tense. The tension in the room grows tenfold, and you fight the instinct to try and scoot closer to Spencer. The Biker looks Spencer in the eyes, a taunting smile on his face.

"That your sister?"

"Wife." Spencer snaps instantly.

"Your wife?" The Biker says incrediously, Spencer raises a brow, daring him to continue. "There's no way a woman with an ass that tight would marry a man as scrawny as you."

You expected to see insecurity flash in Spencer's eyes, instead all you saw was rage. Unbridled, violent rage.

"Choose your next words carefully." Spencer's voice was low, and as sharp as the edge of a blade. You almost didn't recognize him. The Biker leaned forward, fueled only by the knowledge that he was getting under Spencer's skin.

"She as tight as she looks? If I wasn't locked up, I'd fuck her so good she wouldn't even remember what your little pecker feels like."

Spencer's jaw clenches, and his fists curl tightly. The Biker is about 2 words away from a broken nose.

"Baby just let it go." You plead, and normally you don't really use pet names in public but right now you needed to show him that you're his.

"I'll tell you what Klein, I'll fuck her for you and tell you how it felt." The other man says, the man visiting. Upon hearing the words come out of his mouth, Spencer is shoving up from the chair but almost instantly a guard is tightly gripping Spencer's shirt and shoving him back into the chair. Spencer is fuming, and there's nothing you can do to calm him down.

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, your friend here will be dead before you can have another visit." Spencer hisses, and the two large men chuckle.

Spencer instantly took you off the visitors list, and while that felt like a blow to your heart you understood why. You didn't want to stress him out by visiting him.

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So, yeah, Spencer knew you were out of his league and when Luke pulled your chair out for you at the table before he had the chance to, it made his blood boil. Why is Luke trying to take care of you? Doesn't he know that Spencer has been released from Prison? You don't need anybody else to take care of you, your husband is more than capable of doing it himself. When Spencer sat down in the chair next to you, he rested one hand on your thigh. You're only slightly surprised, normally Spencer isn't this 'handsy' in public, but in recent weeks he's been more assertive around other men.

"The body of 23 year old Cassandra Richardson was found 2 weeks ago in Lincoln, Nebraska. Her body was mutilated and showed signs of sexual assault. Yesterday another body, 20 year old Francesca Williams was found around the same warehouse district with similar wounds to the first victim." Penelope rushes the words out, almost as though saying them pains her. Various images show on the screen of the two victims, both bloodied and battered.

"Other than similar injuries, what makes the local police think it's the same unsub?" Luke asks, his eyes flickering towards you for the briefest second. While Spencer was locked away, Luke became a shoulder to cry on. Normally when you were upset and Spencer wasn't around, you'd talk to Derek. But since he's been gone you've felt more isolated then you normally do. Luke had found you crying one morning before you had taken off, and ever since he's had an "older brother" protection over you.

"A tattoo on both of the victims thighs, the words 'temerata virginem' which is Latin for 'desecrated virgin'." With the click of a button on her remote, Penelope pulls up a photo of the tattoos. The lines are shaky, although they stay mostly straight.

"It almost looks professional, except the lines aren't perfectly straight. A professional would make the line work perfect." JJ says, examining the photo closer in the folder each of you received. You turn your gaze to Spencer when you feel his hand leave your thigh to examine the photo closer. You could practically see the gears turning in that beautiful mind of his.

"It's possible an outside source is causing a tremble in the unsubs hands, if he is a professional tattoo artist." Spencer mumbles, almost to himself. Sometimes when he's in deep concentration, he nearly forgets other people are in the room with him.

"Could be drugs-" Luke starts but is sharply cut off.

"Actually it's more likely to be alcohol, withdraw from other drugs would be too severe to operate the tattoo machine." Spencer snaps, causing a few heads to turn and look at him. Maybe under other circumstances someone would say something to him, but since Spencer got released from Prison only a few weeks ago, nobody says anything. Luke's eyebrows furrow together as he shoots Spencer a confused look, one Spencer chooses to ignore as his hand returns to your thigh. Spencer knows he's acting like a jerk but he can't help it, Luke needs to know who you belong to. Spencer had everything taken from him in Prison, he won't let anyone take you from him too.

"We've been personally asked by the local police to assist, so wheels up in 30." Emily concludes, shooting one more look at Spencer before everybody rises.

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The tension on the jet is thick, you're absolutely sure everybody can feel it. Hardly anyone has interacted with Spencer, except to ask him a question about the case. You sit back against the couch, Luke sitting in one of the chairs at the table, and Spencer sitting on the arm of the chair next to you. In your hand was a nearly empty cup of coffee, and just as you move to refill, Luke rises with his own empty cup.

"Need a refill?" He asks, offering you a friendly smile.

"Yeah actually-"

"I got it." Spencer says abruptly, standing from where he was sitting. His eyes meet Luke's, silently challenging him. You try to be understanding, but you can't help but feel annoyed at Spencer. If he was acting like this to some random guy then that's one thing, but this is Luke. He's your friend, he's Spencer's friend. Luke, and the rest of the team, put everything on the line to free Spencer from Prison.

"It's cool man, I can do it-" Luke offers again, but Spencer isn't having it.

"I said I got it." Spencer reaches his hand out for your mug, which you instantly give to him. His eyes don't leave Luke's until he turns around and heads to the back of the jet to refill your coffee. Luke pauses for a few seconds, his eyes meeting yours and mirroring the same look of concern before he heads for the coffee pot as well. Luke isn't even upset by how Spencer is treating him, he- like everyone else, is worried about Spencer's psyche.

"What is going on with Spencer?" JJ whispers once she's sure Spencer is out of earshot. You shrug, your worried eyes landing on your husband. His posture is tense, almost defensive.

"Well can you blame him? In Prison, everything that's yours can and will be stolen by the other male inmates. Now that he's free, Spencer is being protective of his wife, someone that is his and can be taken by other men." Rossi says, always naturally a tad protective of Spencer.

"There isn't a man on this planet that would make me leave Spencer." You say defensively, although you know Rossi didn't mean anything by what he said.

"That might be obvious to you, but not to Spencer." JJ says, eyeing Spencer standing back near the coffee machine.

"Doing okay man?" Luke asks hesitantly as he moves to stand next to Spencer.

"Yep." Spencer says shortly, waiting for the pot to brew. Luke feels the tension rolling off Spencer in waves, and it's all being directed at him and he's not sure why.

"Look, if I've done something to upset you, just talk to me about it Reid." Luke's voice is gentle, understanding. Spencer's jaw clenches again as the pot finishes brewing and he refreshes your cup before reaching for the creamer.

"I'm fine Alvez. Really." Spencer says again, but Luke isn't willing to let this go yet.

"No Reid, you're not-"

"Stop flirting with my wife." Spencer's tone is firm, and the look in his eyes tells Luke just how on edge Spencer is.

"You got it." Luke agrees instantly, even though he was never flirting with you. But he knows that right now arguing with Spencer will only make things worse. Seemingly satisfied with Luke's answer, Spencer carries your cup back you, slinging an arm around you.

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Spencer twists his wedding ring around his ring finger, something he does when he's stressed out or tense. You're currently sat in the interrogation room with the male suspect, a tattoo artist attending AA meetings, the tattoo on the first victim was the shakiest because he had just quit drinking. The other, more recent, victims tattoo's were more steady. The longer he stayed sober, the more his trembling faded. In Spencer's other palm is your wedding ring, you fit the physical preference of this killer perfectly, but he only went after single women. Emily thought sending somebody in fitting his victimology would throw him off enough to say something incriminating. In order for the rouse to work, you needed to appear single- meaning the wedding ring had to come off. The thought didn't settle well in Spencer's gut.

"You have to relax." JJ said suddenly from Spencer's right. He nearly ignored her but his frayed nerves were beginning to eat at him.

"I can't. Do you see the way he's looking at her?" Spencer was pacing back and forth in front of the one way glass like a caged animal, unable to take his eyes off of the train wreck happening in front of him.

"She can handle herself Spence." JJ insists gently, almost using a motherly tone to talk to him.

"She's mine!" And suddenly the crux of the issue comes to light, and Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy breath. JJ thinks about her words carefully, trying to find something to say that will calm him at least a little.

"Yeah, and nothing is going to change that Spencer. You need to relax, and you have to trust her. You're not in Prison anymore, nobody is going to take her from you." JJ says, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly the sound of metal screeching across a concrete floor sounds from behind Spencer and when he turns around, his blood boils hot in his veins. The suspect, Alan Baker, has shoved out of his chair and has started towards you.

"Spencer-" JJ's voice is distant, and comes too late. Spencer isn't listening to her anymore when his fist curls around the door handle and he nearly rips it off its hinges.

"You need to step back." Spencer snaps, reaching for his gun as Alan Baker backs you into the corner of the interrogation room. You weren't ever truly afraid, you could have handled Alan. Slowly, Alan backs away from you and Spencer instantly reaches for you. He leads you out of the room with a gentle but firm hand on your back. Once you're out of the interrogation room you turn to Spencer.

"What the hell? I could have dealt with him!" You insist, frustration laced in your tone. At this point JJ silently slips out of the room, giving you and Spencer some much needed privacy. Spencer crosses his arms as he leans back against the one way mirror.

"You didn't need to, I did." Spencer huffs and you seriously resist the urge to throw something at him.

"What is your problem today? You could have compromised my entire interrogation, he's never going to tell me anything now!" You snap, anger pinching at your features.

"Good! Now you have no reason to talk to him again." Spencer snaps back, can't you see that he's just protecting what's his?

"Spencer we're trying to save somebody! You're being selfish!" You say to him angrily, trying your best not to start yelling at him. Spencer's selfish possessiveness over you could have just ruined your entire investigation.

"This is why the Bureau was hesitant to reinstate you. They were scared you wouldn't be able to control yourself." You snap at him, crossing your arms.

"Are you saying they made a mistake?" Spencer asks incrediously, suddenly becoming defensive.

"Maybe they did. Because you're acting like an asshole right now. You've been a jerk to Luke the entire day when he busted his ass to help get you out of Prison and back to me! Since when have you not trusted me during an interrogation? What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to let him touch me? I thought you trusted me." You cry out, tears filling your eyes now. Spencer didn't say anything as you turned for the door, anger still laced in his features.

"This has nothing to do with me not trusting you-"

"If you don't trust me, then maybe you should just hold onto my wedding ring for a while. I don't want it." You snap quietly, and you regret the words the second they leave your lips. No matter how mad he makes you, you'd never leave Spencer. You watch Spencer's expression shift from anger to...hurt. He watches silently as you slam the door behind you. Prison has turned him into somebody he isn't, and Spencer doesn't know how to turn off this part of his brain. The part telling him that you belong to him, and that he needs to protect what's his.

Rossi catches the sight of your tear stained cheeks as you move back towards the kitchen in the precinct. You wipe your tears as he comes to stand beside you, and the look on his face tells you that he overheard your fight with Spencer. Rossi bumps you with his elbow gently, a small smile on his face.

"You don't look okay." He says softly and you let out a self-depreciating laugh.

"I'm not. I don't know how to help Spencer, he doesn't trust me." You say sadly, your heart breaking in your chest.

"It's not you he doesn't trust, it's other men." Rossi clarifies, although it does little to ease the pain. You reach up to brush your hair behind your ear when Rossi catches your hand, examining your ring finger.

"Where's your wedding ring?"

"Told Spencer I didn't want it." The words are laced with heavy regret, and when you remember the look on his face when you said it you almost start to cry again. Rossi wraps an arm around you, and you lean your head on his shoulder.

"Deep down, he knows you didn't mean it." He tries to reassure you.

"That's the problem, he probably thinks I meant it."

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Normally it only takes you and Spencer a few hours to smooth things over after a fight. But this time, it's been nearly 3 hours and you haven't spoken a word to each other. You're both working on searching through Alan Baker's financial records without speaking at all. Neither of you have said anything, and Spencer still has your wedding ring. You desperately want it back, but you don't know how to start that conversation. You're angry about how he's been treating everybody, and you feel like asking for your ring is accepting defeat. You're not ready to accept defeat. When Emily comes into the room, her eyes settle on the two of you.

"Okay, what's going on with you guys?" Her arms are crossed.

"Nothing." The word comes from both yours and Spencer's mouths at the same time, and you say it far too quickly. Emily raises one brow at the two of you before closing the door behind her.

"Alright I'm going to have to be a boss now. We are not going to lock this guy away if the two of you are fighting. We need everybody on their A-game. Fix it. Now, and I mean right now." She says, leaving the room but closing the door behind her. There's a suffocating silence that fills the room, both you and Spencer too stubborn to speak first. But you can't take it, you hate it when he's mad at you. You hate it when you guys fight, which isn't often but it does happen occasionally.

"I didn't mean it." You whisper, leaning on the table, facing away from him. Spencer doesn't say anything but you know he's listening.

"I didn't mean it Spencer, I want my ring." He'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved to hear you say that, his entire world crashed down around him the second you told him to keep the ring. The irrational part of his brain told him you were going to divorce him.

"Can I please have it back?" You ask, barely turning your head to look at him. With a huff Spencer pushes away from the table to move in front of you. His eyes are focused on your hand, he has yet to look at you. Spencer fishes around in his pocket before he finds your ring and gently slides it onto your ring finger.

"You have to stop glaring at any man that gets to close to me, especially Luke." You tell him, but he continues to look away from you. Spencer pushes past you to stand near the windows, his back facing you. The thing about Spencer is that he's stubborn, really stubborn. You take a few steps towards him, nibbling on your lower lip.

"I love you Spencer, I'm sorry. I was an ass, but you acted like an ass too." You tell him, but Spencer only turns his head further away from you. You move to stand in front of him, but his eyes turn to the ground and his arms are crossed tightly. Seriously?

"Please talk to me Spencer, tell me what's going on." You can see the frustration laced in his features, there's something on the tip of his tongue that he needs to say.

"Spencer."

"After you left from your visit, do you know why I didn't let you come back?" Spencer snaps, his hands finding your shoulders to yank your body against his. Your chest collides with his and suddenly you feel a dampness building between your legs. You instantly turn to putty in his hands.

"I didn't let you come back because that asshole told everybody about you. Told everybody what a tight little body you have. Soon the entire cell block was fantasizing about my 'sexy wife'. Do you have any idea what it's like to listen to men constantly talk about fucking your wife?" Spencer's voice is tense, but you can see it. The lust building behind his eyes, the frustration, and the fear of losing you simmering underneath it all.

"N-No." Your voice is breathy, and your eyes are lidded as Spencer's hands slide up your arms to your shoulders.

"It's fucking hell Y/N. Every time I see any man look at you I want to rip his eyes out, and I can't turn it off. I've tried, and the way that Alvez looks at you- it drives me fucking crazy." Spencer snaps, the anger building by the second. Your entire body begins to hum with an intense need, and Spencer can see it in your eyes. Spencer releases you then and he turns for the door, at first you're afraid he's going to leave but instead he locks the door. Luckily it's late, so the police station is more deserted then it is during the day. Turning back to you, Spencer reaches for the blinds next and you can't help but follow his every movement with your eyes.

"Get on your knees." Spencer says suddenly, and you freeze in shock. Did he just say...?

"Get. On. Your. Knees." Spencer says again through clenched teeth, leaning back against the table, heat simmering in his eyes. His hands grip the edge of the table and you feel a throb from between your legs. Quickly you scramble onto your knees in front of him, your hands reaching up to undo his belt. Once the belt is unfastened, you're quickly unbuttoning his dress slacks, your eagerness making your hands a bit clumsy. Spencer has never been this dominant during sex, but you have no complaints. He has your knees weak and he hasn't even touched you. You quickly dip your hand into his boxers to pull his hardening cock out. As soon as his cock is freed, your lips are wrapping around the head. Spencer's head tosses back in ecstasy.

"Your lips look so pretty stretched around my cock. Those bastards could only imagine having you on your knees for them." Spencer snaps, his hand weaving into the hair at the back of your head. You moan softly around him at his crude words, slowly sliding down his cock. Spencer groans when he feels your tongue laving the underside of his cock, along the vein that runs from base to tip. Apparently feeling impatient, Spencer pushes your head further down his cock. He feels his tip right at the entrance of your throat, and with one gentle thrust he breaches your throat and his cock slides all the way into your mouth.

"Fuck," Spencer hisses, and Spencer does not curse often. So the fact that you have been able to draw curses from his mouth is nothing short of a miracle. Spencer's chest heaves slightly as you gag lightly around him, drawing another deep groan from his chest. You feel nearly desperate to please him, you need to make him cum. You want him to fucking pound you, you want him to use your body for his pleasure. You want him to release all of his frustration out on you, you want to be sore when he's done.

"You're mine. This is my body to touch and admire, my tight pussy to stretch open, mine." Spencer growls, thrusting gently to meet your hasty movements. You whimper around his cock, gagging slightly again as spit dribbles down your chin. Your eyes are wide and watery as you look up at him, and the sight of you nearly causes him to blow his load. You just look so fucking beautiful on your knees in front of him, drool on your chin and your mouth full of cock. It's a sight he will never forget. You move your head faster, keeping your eyes locked on his. Spencer squeezes the edge of the table, his head tossing back when his orgasm hits him. You feel his cum shooting in spurts to the back of your throat and you swallow every drop. Once you pull off him, Spencer is grabbing your elbows to pull you to stand.

Spencer's hands are reaching for the button of your dress slacks as his mouth presses messily to yours. Spencer's tongue pushes into your mouth, his hands pushing your pants down and you kick them off. Instantly, Spencer's fingers are sliding into your panties and through your slick folds. You whine loudly against his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as his palm roughly cradles the back of your head.

"Need to make sure you know who you belong to." Spencer snaps as he pulls away from you, quickly pushing two long fingers into your dripping hole. You cry out before Spencer is slapping a hand over your mouth, your back pressed against the wall. Spencer's slender frame is leaning against you, effectively trapping you against the wall and his body. Your eyes are rolling when Spencer's finger crook inside of you while roughly thrusting into you.

"Gotta be quiet, wouldn't want Luke to catch us now would we?" Spencer breathes in the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps spreading over your skin. You are completely at Spencer's mercy and you wouldn't have it any other way. The pleasure shooting through you goes rocketing up your spine when Spencer scissors his fingers inside of you. You're mumbling incoherently against his palm, desperate pleas not to stop, to please let you cum. Your entire body is flushed, and you feel sweat on your skin like a sheen layer over you. Spencer feels you begin to squeeze around his fingers and he replaces his palm with his mouth, swallowing all of your moans and desperate cries.

Your back is arching as your high approaches, and you climb higher and higher to meet it. Spencer never lets up, his fingers steadily pumping into you and his lips muffling all of your cries of pleasure. The sounds you make are music to his ears, they tell him that you will always be his, no matter what childish fears he has. Your hands come up to unbutton the buttons on Spencer's dress shirt, you need to feel more of him. Before you can finish undressing your husband, his fingers nudge your cervix and you instantly clamp around his fingers, your body convulsing.

"You look so beautiful when you cum." Spencer praises, his cock rock hard again. He needs to be inside of you as soon as humanely possible. Spencer pulls away from you to grasp the base of his cock, no need to bother with protection. The two of you already agreed that you want to try for a baby anyway.

"Please baby, please get inside me. How could you think I'd ever leave you? I love you, and nobody could make me cum like you can." You moan desperately, turning to bend over the table. Spencer's hand runs up your spine, enjoying the way you wriggle your hips in search of his cock. There are butterflies squirming in your stomach as you spread your legs apart wider for him, but he still doesn't bring his cock closer to you.

"Oh c'mon Spence don't do this please. Baby, fuck me." You plead, nearly sobbing as you shamlessly beg. He presses his tip against your soaked entrance and you whine. You hear fabric rustling around and you turn your head just in time to see him pull his tie from around his neck.

"I needed to hear you beg for me, and this is to keep you quiet. As much as I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you, I can't let anyone else hear you." Spencer says, his voice low and rumbling from his chest. You open your mouth to let him tie the silk fabric in your mouth. You try to whimper but you gag around the tie in your mouth, and you see a pleased smile cross onto Spencer's face. Your fingers grasp at the edge of the table as you impatiently wait for Spencer to push into you. You feel his glorious cock nestled at your entrance, the tip barely nudging in. You feel another wave of slick gush out of you and Spencer is running his tip through your already drenched folds. Such a tease.

You whine softly, trying to push back against him. Spencer chuckles darkly before his hands grasp your hips to hold you steady. With one firm thrust, Spencer is breaching your folds and sliding deep inside you. You feel heat searing through you, your head dropping to the table as you whimper through the burn. The stretch burns more then you anticipated, and you hear Spencer groaning softly, which sends another wave of liquid heat rushing through you.

"God you feel so good baby, you take my cock so fucking well." Spencer praises, gently pulling out to slowly thrust back in. His eyes are locked on the place where you two connect, watching with hooded eyes as his cock disappears inside you.

"I wish you could see this baby, I love watching you take my cock." He praises through a soft moan, and you drink up every sound he makes. Spencer needed this so bad and you love the fact that you can give him a type of relief nobody else on the planet can give him. Spencer steadily thrusts into you when you both hear footsteps slowly passing outside the room. You expect Spencer to stop, to pull out of you and start redressing but he doesn't. He slows his pace considerably, but he still slowly thrusts into you.

"Shh, I would hate for whoever that is to see my cock buried in your pretty pussy." Spencer whispers as he leans forward to whisper in your ear. You struggle to contain the whimpers, but somehow you remain completely silent as Spencer gently thrusts into you. Once whoever it is passes by, Spencer resumes his quicker thrusts. His pelvis hits your ass with enough force to send you lurching across the table and your fingers scramble to find purchase against the smooth surface.

"This is my pussy, you're my wife, you're mine. Not Luke's, not that dick from the Prison. Mine." Spencer says, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust into you. You wished you could answer him, that you could cry to the heavens that you belong to Spencer Reid- that you never want to belong to anybody else. You settle for squeezing his cock whenever it returns to your velvety warmth, chanting the same word in your head over and over.

Yours yours yours yours yours.

Your forehead presses against the table, muffled and strangled cries escaping your lips every time Spencer hits deep inside you. His cock stretches you perfectly, and always hits places deep inside you. Places you didn't know existed. Soon you feel your orgasm creeping up on you, and you feel lightheaded so you reach up to yank the tie away from your mouth.

"Please make me cum Spence, I'm so close baby please don't stop." You beg, muffling your moans with your palm as he drives his cock into you. You feel sweat covering your entire body and Spencer holds your hips with a bruising force. You feel that coil winding tighter and tighter, and you release a high pitched whine when Spencer's hand snakes around your body to thumb your clit.

"Oh Spencer your cock feels so good, soo good baby. Always feels so good, fuck baby I love you," You're not sure what you're saying at this point, an incoherent mess of praises for the man above you. Spencer loves when he reduces you to this, speaking in a jumble of words and disconnected statements because you can't think with his cock inside you.

"I, shit, I love you-" Spencer gasps, slamming his cock inside you and rolling your clit before you're squeezing around him tightly, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. You cum in hot gushes around him and Spencer can only offer a few more stuttering thrusts before he's cumming with a loud growl, coating your walls in his hot cum. Spencer keeps his cock inside you, ensuring his cum stays inside you. He wants to get you pregnant. His palms gently hold your hips, and all the frustration he's felt all day has completely disappeared. His chest is heaving from the exertion but he feels more relaxed then he has all day. There's a smile on your face and your eyes are closed as your legs finally give out and you collapse against the table.

"You okay?" You hear Spencer's voice, and you can't help but smile when you hear that he's panting slightly. You hum with a smile on your face.

"I'm amazing." You mumble back, feeling Spencer begin to gently massage your back. You love enjoying the afterglow with him, even if you're laying on a table. Slowly Spencer pulls out, but he groans softly when he sees his cum inside your pussy. He reaches to the floor to pull your panties and dress slacks back up your legs and he quickly tucks himself back into his pants. He buttons the 4 buttons you managed to open on his shirt before he's gently pulling you to stand.

"You sure you're alright?" Spencer asks, concern in his eyes. You nod with a smile, but when he releases his hold on your shoulders, you feel your legs tremble and give out underneath you. Spencer immediately catches you and sets you down on the table. You laugh softly.

"Guess you fucked me good."

"Sorry." Spencer says sheepishly, but you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Don't be, that had to have been the best sex we've had in a long time." You mumble against his lips and Spencer hums in agreement. Reaching for his tie, Spencer shoves it in his pocket before he pokes his head out of the room you guys just defiled.

"Spencer, I'm so sorry about what I said. I love you so much, I didn't mean what I said about my ring-" You blubber suddenly, drawing Spencer's attention to you. He cradles your head against his chest, pressing kisses to your forehead.

"I know baby, it's okay. I love you." Spencer answers quietly, holding you to him tightly.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk today. I'm just so protective of you. I can't let anything steal you from me." Spencer admits softly and you cup his cheeks to make him look at you. There is a sadness in his eyes that you want to obliterate, you can't stand it when he's sad. It breaks your heart.

"Nothing could steal me from you. I only want you Spencer." You say quietly and you see tears misting his eyes. He presses his lips desperately against yours, and you feel tears cascading down yours and his cheeks. The kiss is wet, but it's passionate and you throw every ounce of love you have for this man into it. When you and Spencer part, your foreheads are pressed together.

"Hey Spence? How am I gonna get to the hotel. I can't walk." You say softly with a giggle and Spencer smiles mischievously.

"I guess I'll have to carry you." He scoops you bridal style into his arms then and you blush deeply when he carries you out of the room and towards the front entrance.

"Spencer! Everybody is going to know!" You whisper into his ear and he chuckles.

"Good."

[bigenergy777]

EXES BEST FRIEND — topper thornton x fem reader + rafe cameron x fem reader

summary: rafe is your ex boyfriend and you decide to get revenge on him by sleeping with his best friend topper at a party, but you didn’t expect him to walk in on you both…

warnings: 18+ MDNI ➾ consumption of alcohol, underage drinking, cuss words, smut, semi public sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, toxic!rafe, arguing, getting walked in on, yelling etc

MY MASTERLIST / RAFE MASTERLIST

you and rafe broke up three months ago after a two year long relationship. it was toxic to say the least, rafe was abusive and controlling and everything he did ruined your self esteem, until you finally gained the courage to dump him and move on.

earlier this week, you were invited to a figure 8 house party by a kook boy who was interested in one of your friends, who was also going, of course. now it’s the night of the party, and you and your friends managed to get a few pre drinks in at your house before heading over there.

you and your three friends tipsily stumble into the party hand in hand with each other as you laugh and head through the crowded house over to the kitchen, where you grab some more drinks to get the night properly started. all four of you had began to settle into the party with booze in your hands on the dance floor, dancing with each other and singing along to the songs playing.

as more time went by, the more alcohol entered your systems. one of your friends had somehow ended up making out with a boy in the middle of the crowd, and another friend was talking to a girl she recognized from high school, which left you and the last friend alone.

“wanna go get another drink?” you ask her, raising your voice over the booming music. “yeah” she says, grabbing your hand as the two of you make your way to the kitchen again. just as you grab another bottle from the crate and crack it open, you turn around and gasp at the sight of your ex boyfriend. “jesus…” you say, putting your hand on your chest as your friend stands beside you.

“hey y/n, what’s up” rafe says in a nice tone which makes you frown in suspicion. rafe couldn’t be nice if he tried to be, there’s always underlying tones to his voice, mainly sarcasm and pity.

“she’s fine, thank you.” your friend answers for you, knowing you didn’t have much to say to him. she shoots him a sarcastic smile which made him look at her and grin.

“oh, she don’t talk anymore, huh?” rafe asks, glancing at you before looking back at your friend. “not to you, no” she scoffs a laugh, which made him laugh at her. “oooh, feisty one your friend is, ain’t she?” rafe sarcastically says to you with that stupid mocking grin he does.

“go away, rafe.” you roll your eyes and grab your friends hand before walking away from him. “awh, i liked you better when you weren’t a stuck up bitch” rafe says to your friend to piss her off, which made her turn around and stop in her tracks, making you do the same.

“do you really have to be a dick right now?” you raise your voice and eyebrows at his audacity. “oh, she speaks!” rafe sarcastically exclaims, raising his arms. your eyes dart onto topper and kelce stood behind rafe, who were looking right at you with stupid grins on their faces to wind you up.

you give them no notice because they want to see you all riled up, that’s all rafe ever wants. you ignore him completely and grab your friend again, pulling her toward the other room again. “i can see your ass cheeks, ‘guess you really are just a slut after all” rafe says to you which made you groan and yell “fuck off” without stopping or turning around, hearing all three boys giggle like girls at your reaction as you walk out of the kitchen.

“ugh. what a stupid fucking asshole” you vent to your friend. “honestly, fuck him. he’s a prick. you should totally get on someone tonight, ‘would totally piss him off” your friend suggests with a giggle to lighten your mood, making you smile a bit. “i don’t know…” you sigh before you both return to your other two friends who were now both dancing with boys. “fair enough” you shrug, laughing it off as you and your friend resume dancing and drinking to take your mind off things.

another thirty minutes went by, drink after drink, and you found yourself wandering away from your friends and chatting to a random bunch of strangers out in the hallway. you needed to pee really badly, and you had no idea where any of your friends were, so you head up the stairs alone to find a bathroom.

it’s much quieter upstairs with a few odd people going in and out of bedrooms and up and down the stairs. you began searching for the bathroom when you found it, opening the door and stepping inside. when you close the door and turn around, you gasp and jump at the unexpected sight of someone in the bathroom with you.

“shit… sorr— topper?” you quickly apologize, realizing it was rafe’s best friend. “what are you doing? get out” topper says in a mean tone, giving you daggers as he zips up his pants. “i need to pee? you get out” you say to him, noticing he was done using the toilet.

“no, i was in here first” topper scoffs, flushing the toilet and walking over to the sink to wash his hands. “great, well you’re done now, so leave” you smile with a fake sweet tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest to wait. “don’t care. wait your turn, don’t come in here demanding” he rolls his eyes, turning off the faucet and drying his hands on himself.

“fine. i’ll just go. i don’t care” you shrug, the alcohol giving you confidence as you walk over to the toilet and pull your panties down from underneath your dress, “what are you doing?” topper frowns, looking at you as if you’re crazy. “going pee, what does it look like?” you ask, laughing as you sit down to pee with him right in front of you.

he doesn’t answer, he only rolls his eyes at you, trying not to look at any private part of yours. he doesn’t make a move for the door, he just stands there kinda watching you with a weird look on his face. you two never really got along so well in the past, with him constantly being on rafe’s side each time you argued. “see? you could’ve left but you didn’t—”

“because i was in here first.” you both bicker as you finish peeing, wrapping toilet paper over your hand to wipe yourself. he didn’t particularly watch you do it, but it was definitely in his vision. when you were done, you flush the toilet and wash your hands, all while topper is still in the bathroom.

“great, look at that, we’re both done. who’s getting the fuck out first?” you ask, giving him a sarcastic look. “i’m staying here” topper says, “okay. well i’m staying here too.” you say to piss him off, seeing him roll his eyes. “not much to do in a bathroom…” he shrugs. “why do you wanna stay here then?” you frown.

“why do you wanna stay here?” he asks the same question you did. “to annoy you.” you shrug and giggle, both of you in a pretty drunk state. “right. typical of you” he scoffs, seeing you reach into your purse and grabbing your lipstick. “mhm” you hum as you turn around to face the mirror, opening your lipstick and reapplying some.

“y’know, you already look like a whore so that lipstick isn’t going to change anything” he says rudely, making you scoff at his reflection in the mirror. “maybe i wanna be a whore” you shrug, focusing on applying the lipstick and rubbing your lips together, all while you lean over the sink counter with your ass cheeks hanging out of your short dress.

you see his eyes dart down to your ass in the mirror’s reflection, making you smirk and poke your butt out a little more, seeing him still looking. “if i’m such a whore, why’re you looking at me like that, hm?” you ask in a bratty tone, placing your lipstick aside and turning around to fully face him, his eyes now looking back up into yours.

“you can’t wear a dress like that and expect me not to look.” he says, looking you up and down which brings tension. “why? is it too much for you?” you tilt your head, a smirk playing at your lips. “yeah. y’look hot.” he says, his drunken state allowing him to forget that you’re his best friend’s ex and this is wrong.

“yeah? you want me to take it off?” you ask, your tone more soft and flirty now as you look at him with a smirk and raised eyebrows. “i mean…” he drags suggestively, making you laugh. “come take it off me then…” you offer, slowly grinning as you see the look on his face. he wants to devour you.

he doesn’t hesitate to take a step closer to you, your bodies just inches apart as the tension grows thicker. “don’t you have friends to get back to?” he asks, “don’t you?” your head tilts. “i asked you first” he says, stepping closer and reaching his hand down to your waist, pulling you closer.

“i have no idea where my friends are. the last i seen em’ they were busy kissing some guys downstairs.” you shrug, cozying up to him as your body gets comfortable being so close to his. “weird. i thought you would’ve been doing exactly that.” he jokes, acting like you’re the slutty friend out of your group.

“well i am… just upstairs” you grin, wrapping your arms behind his neck and pulling his head down to kiss you, your lips immediately crashing onto each others. the kiss turned deep fast, with both of your hands roaming one another’s bodies, his hands slid down to your ass where he grabbed both cheeks, making you giggle and stand on your tip toes. “you like that?” he asks, breaking the kiss for air.

“mhm,” you hum, pulling him back in for another kiss. you hate to admit it but you haven’t been with anyone since rafe, you haven’t been kissed, touched or fucked by another guy since. you were too afraid to jump into new relationships or bond with new guys just in case they were as toxic and crazy as he was, he definitely turned you off men for a while…

the kiss began to get heated as your hand trailed down to his crotch to tease him, feeling him get hard as he twirls his fingers around the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your thighs. your dress is still on, but it is raised to give him more access. you let him continue as you feel your panties drop to the floor, making you gasp and giggle.

his fingers instantly begin rubbing your wet pussy, making you moan into the kiss. “fuck…” he says, breathing heavily as he pulls away from the kiss, both of you panting for air as he backs you up onto the countertop, slightly lifting you up to sit on it with your ass cheeks hanging off the edge.

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, your hands cupping his face. his lips are inches away from yours as his hands grip the sides of your thighs. “you’re so hot…” he says, both of you drunk and lost in horniness. “you’re hot” you say, glancing down at his lips then back into his eyes. he takes this as a sign to kiss you again, so he does.

his hand rubs your pussy again, moaning softly at the feeling of your wetness. “y’wanna fuck?” he asks, pulling away while his fingers toy with your clit, making you moan. “yeah…”

“i don’t have any condoms—”

“i don’t care, i’m on the pill” you cut him off, too horny to even give a fuck about extra protection. he smirks in response before making out with you again, your hands gripping the back of his t-shirt to pull it off and throw it on the floor.

topper has a great body, you couldn’t help but look down at his toned abs and almost drool at the sight. his removes his hands from you to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down slightly along with his boxers. “i’m so hard” he pants, pulling his head away to look down at himself. “yeah? i’m so wet… fuck me…” you smirk, biting your lip as you tighten your legs around his waist, motioning for him to bring his dick to you.

without hesitation he pulls his boxers down, his hard cock springing out and hitting your leg. fuck, he was so big it made you wetter immediately. you lift your legs up some more, shifting your ass in an angle which easier for him to enter you. he grabs his dick and lines it up with your entrance, pushing the tip against it and hearing you gasp.

“fuck… you ready?” he asks, making you grin. he’s actually sweet when it comes to sex, he’s much less forceful and aggressive than rafe was. he asks questions instead of instantly going for what he wants. he respects you which makes you realize maybe not all guys are so bad.

“yeah” you nod, making eye contact with him as he slowly enters you, the both of you gasping at the feeling. “fuck… oh my god” you moan, throwing your head back as more of him enters you, filling you right up with his big cock. “look at me… i wanna look at your pretty face” he says, using his hand to gently pull your head back up.

hearing his words gave you butterflies in your belly and your pussy, his compliments and soft touches making you melt. “top…” you moan, clutching your arms around the back of his neck as your legs move with his hips, thrusting in and out of you.

“shiiit…” he groans, his pace getting rougher with each stroke. you make eye contact and kiss each other a few times before his kisses trail down your jaw and to your neck, where he sucks and bites on your skin. you unwrap your hands from around him and grip his shoulders instead, moaning as he thrusts hard.

you drunkenly fuck on the countertop for a while, kissing and giving each other hickeys. the eye contact he holds with you is insane. you couldn’t help but think about how different he was to rafe, given that he was the only guy you’d ever been with up until now. no matter how drunk you were, you will definitely not forget about this moment and how every thrust felt, every kiss, every little touch on your body…

“fuck… you feel so good,” you moan, looking at your lipstick stain all over topper’s mouth and giggling at it. “what?” he asks breathily, seeing you point at his mouth. he looks up into the mirror above your head and chuckles. “look at yours” he says, helping you turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror, seeing your lipstick smudged around your mouth. you both chuckle and you turn back around to face him, pulling him in for another kiss with as his hands play with your tits above your dress. you didn’t take it off, neither of you wanted to be too exposed being at a crowded party and all.

you went at it for a couple more minutes, moaning each other’s names and exploring each others bodies and mouths. the music downstairs was so loud that it boomed and echoed through the entire house, not allowing you to hear anything else from outside the bathroom, not even the footsteps coming up the stairs…

both of you were so lost in each other that it took a moment to realize that there were male voices just outside the door, “yeah, hold on” one guy says as he opens the door to the bathroom, needing to use it. both you and topper quickly turn your head in that direction to be met with rafe.

shit, you thought… you didn’t actually expect rafe to be the one person to walk in on you. “yo, what the fuck?” rafe says after pausing for a second and immediately getting angry. “rafe—” you say, but he cuts you off with a laugh as he shows kelce outside the door what was happening, but by now topper was already out of you and had his pants back up, and you had jumped off the counter to pull your dress down. “are you fucking for real?” rafe yells with amusement on his face, pointing at you and topper with an angry laugh as kelce says “yo…” in shock.

“rafe bro—” topper tries to speak but rafe doesn’t let him. “nah, are you serious?” rafe amuses angrily, still in disbelief of what he saw. “you come up here to fuck my ex? what the fuck?” rafe pipes up, pointing at himself before fully entering the bathroom, kelce still stood at the doorway. “rafe he’s—” you try to say, but rafe shushes you. “nuh uh, you shut the fuck up, i don’t wanna hear shit from your whore ass” rafe insults, yelling at you which made you flinch a little.

“rafe calm down bro” topper says, attempting to reach down to grab his t-shirt from the floor but rafe stops him and shoves him back. “don’t” you warn your ex with stern eyes, making him laugh. “ohhh, oh i see, you two fuckin’ each other now huh?” rafe jokes, looking over at kelce for backup. “no it’s not like that” you say, topper looking back at you as you briefly stand behind him, your panties still lying on the floor as you were too afraid to bend down and pick them up due to exposure.

“oh, it’s not?” he asks, getting aggressive as he yells in your face, his fists clenching in rage. “bro it was just a spur of the moment…” topper quickly tries defending himself, but rafe turns to look at him, “topper shut the fuck up bro before i beat your ass” he threatens.

“you— you’re just a fucking stupid slut, going for my friends? really?” rafe asks you, making out like this was entirely your fault. “well maybe don’t be such a rude asshole” you shrug, playing it off. now that you think about it, you really don’t care if you upset him or not. he deserves to feel betrayed by his ex and his best friend, he did nothing but bully you.

“really?—”

“yeah, really! you’re a fucking dick and topper here is better than you ever were,” you argue, not caring if you flash yourself as you bend down to snatch your underwear from the floor, shoving them back on. “really?” rafe laughs angrily, “yeah. and bigger, too.” you blurt out, shoving past him to storm out of the bathroom. those last words really ticked him off because you could hear him and topper screaming and yelling at each other as you head down the stairs.

part of you felt bad for leaving topper, but he deserves this, too. all throughout your relationship with rafe, topper was rude to you. he always backed rafe up when you two fought, always insulted you when rafe did, made fun of you like rafe did… tonight you saw a different side of topper, an affectionate and sweet side. maybe it was the wrong place at the wrong time, but who cares? hopefully this’ll ruin their friendship for messing with you.

you rush back to the living room in hopes to find your friends, and luckily you found two of them. “girls… we need to leave” you snicker, trying to hide your laugh. “why?” one yells over the music. “i just fucked topper” you giggle.

“what?!”

“you did what?!”

both friends gasp and widen their eyes. “i fucked topper and rafe walked in” you couldn’t help but laugh in excitement thinking about how much this’ll affect rafe. “oh my god!”

“i know, right?” you laugh as the two of your friends reach over to your third and final friend in the crowd to pull her out. “we’re leaving, let’s go” one says to her, seeing her frown. “why?” she asks, just as you see rafe walking down the stairs, probably trying to find you. “that’s why… come on” you say, pointing at rafe as the four of you quickly move through the crowd and dart for the door, all running out and laughing.

“girl, you’re crazy” one of the girls says to you as you all make it to the end of the driveway and pant for air. “i know… and he’ll kill me if we don’t get the fuck outta’ here” you drunkenly laugh, thinking of the situation as funny more than anything else.

all four of you head down the road and back in the direction of your house where you were prior to the party. “what the hell happened?” your third friend asks, looking at you with a frown. “she fucked topper.” another replies for you. “what? seriously? damn… rafe knows?” she widens her eyes. “rafe saw, he walked in” you giggle, seeing the shocked expression on her face. “holy shit…”

on the walk back home, you tell them all in detail what happened despite you stumbling your words drunkly. all you could think about now was what rafe was doing. was he hurt? did he feel betrayed? you can only hope so.

NOT PROOFREAD. this has been in my drafts for SO long but i only just finished it😭 i hope u guys enjoy!!!! <3 FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED!

english is not my first language so please feel free to point out any spelling/grammar mistakes ◡̈

@cameronluvr

[bigenergy777]

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - BACK TO YOU

ᯓᡣ𐭩 paring ─ ୨୧ ─ jj maybank ⋆ ex!pogue!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ─ ୨୧ ─ in which you return to the island after moving away and have to confront unresolved feelings and changes in the friend group.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings ─ ୨୧ ─ explicit language, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, drama, mention of past self-harm, mention of past suicide attempt, mention of depression/mental health issues, alcohol abuse, unresolved emotional/romantic tension, trauma, mention of parental abuse/neglect, emotional cheating, jj is dating kiara, pretend luke didn’t leave, tw: surf competition, reconciliation, emotional vulnerability, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex, dirty talk, praise, teasing, power play, and overstimulation (please dni if your sensitive to any of these topics your mental health should come first)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc ─ ୨୧ ─ 19,166

⋆˚✿˖° a/n ─ ୨୧ ─ this is long and very emotional/dramatic which is half of the reason it's been sitting in drafts forever. this was only written because I just love the song and wanted something based on it.

⋆.˚✮back to you✮˚.⋆

(༝༚༝༚ selena gomez)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──. Outer Banks Masterlist ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Navigation ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

JJ stands awkwardly by the cooler, his fingers drumming against the metal surface as he watches you grab another case of beer. The setting sun casts long shadows across John B's backyard, painting everything in hues of orange and pink. The salty breeze carries the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore, mixing with the muffled laughter and music inside the house. He can't help but steal glances at you, memories of your past flooding his mind like an unwanted tide.

"So uh..." JJ clears his throat, adjusting his shark tooth necklace nervously. "How was... wherever the fuck you went?" He tries to maintain his usual carefree demeanor, but an edge to his voice betrays his discomfort. His blue eyes dart between you and the ground, unable to maintain steady eye contact. The weight of your unspoken history hangs heavy between you, thicker than the humid Carolina evening.

You stand awkwardly, your fingers nervously playing with the label of your beer bottle. You avoid JJ's gaze, focusing instead on the peeling paint of John B's deck railing. The tension between you two is suffocating, making the humid evening air feel even heavier. "Maine," you finally answer, your voice barely above a whisper. "We went to Maine."

JJ's jaw tightens at the mention of Maine, his fingers flexing around his beer bottle as he processes just how far away you’ve been. "Maine? Fuck, that's like... way up there with all those lobsters and shit," he says, trying to maintain his usual lighthearted tone but failing miserably. 

"You look..." He starts, then stops himself, shoving his free hand into the pocket of his board shorts. "I mean, it's good you're back and shit. The group missed you." He deliberately leaves out the fact that he missed you too, that your absence left a void that even Kiara couldn't quite fill. The tension between you is palpable, like the electricity in the air before a storm - something the Outer Banks knows all too well. He takes a long pull from his beer, using it as an excuse to break the uncomfortable silence that's settled between you.

You take a long sip from your bottle, using the moment to gather your thoughts. The sight of JJ - still as handsome as ever with his messy blonde hair and those blue eyes - makes your heartache in a way you thought you’d gotten over. The sound of Kiara's laughter from inside feels like a knife twisting in your gut. "I see you and Kie finally..." you trail off, unable to finish the sentence. Your skin glows in the porch light.

"Yeah, me and Kie..." he trails off, taking another long pull from his beer to avoid finishing the sentence. The truth is, things with Kiara are good - great even - but standing here with you brings back all the complicated feelings he'd tried to bury in the sand. 

"The group seems... good," you manage, trying to keep your voice steady. "Different, but good." You risk a glance at JJ, immediately regretting it when you catch his eyes. Those same eyes that used to look at you with such intensity, now belong to someone else. You shift your weight, your sundress rustling softly in the evening breeze. 

A loud crash from inside the house makes you both jump causing you to spill a bit of beer on your dress, followed by John B's distinctive "Everything's fine!" JJ lets out a forced laugh, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He's hyper-aware of every movement you make, every shift in your posture, every breath you take. The familiar scent of your perfume mixed with the salt air brings back memories he's tried so hard to suppress - stolen kisses behind the Wreck, late-night surfing sessions, promises made and broken. He adjusts his stance, trying to maintain a careful distance between you, even as every fiber of his being wants to close it.

"Shit," you mutter, dabbing at the spot with your free hand. You can feel JJ's presence just a few feet away, and it takes everything in you not to close that distance. "I should've called or something," you say suddenly, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "Before I left, I mean. I just... I couldn't." Your voice cracks slightly on the last word, betraying the emotions you're trying so hard to keep in check.

The raw honesty in your voice, when you mention not calling, makes his throat tight. "Yeah, well..." JJ runs a hand through his hair again, his shark tooth necklace catching the light as he moves. "Probably wouldn't have answered anyway. Was pretty fucked up back then." He lets out a laugh, but there's pain behind it. "Still am, just better at hiding it now." The admission hangs between you like smoke, heavy and suffocating. He can hear Sarah and John B singing off-key inside, the sound a stark contrast to the tension-filled bubble you're standing in.

He watches as you dab at the beer stain on your dress, fighting the urge to help you like he would have before. "Fuck, hold up," he mutters, pulling off his worn t-shirt and offering it to you without thinking. The porch light illuminates the scattered bruises across his torso - some new, some old ones you’d recognize.

You stand there, your heart racing as you stare at JJ's shirtless form. You reach out hesitant to take his shirt, your fingers brushing briefly in a way that sends electricity through your entire body. "Thanks," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"You look good though," he finally says, the words escaping before he can stop them. His eyes meet yours for a moment before quickly looking away. "I mean, like, healthy and shit. That's... that's good." He shifts uncomfortably, very aware that he's still shirtless and that the space between you feels both too large and not large enough. The familiar scent of your perfume is making his head spin, or maybe it's the beer, or maybe it's just you - it's always been you. "Did it help?" he asks quietly, genuinely wanting to know. "Going away? Did it... fix things?" The question carries more weight than he intends, loaded with all the things he never got to say before you left.

The sound of Kiara's laughter drifts out again, and you flinches visibly. You take another long drink from your beer, needing the liquid courage. "It helped," you finally answer his question, unconsciously running your fingers over the faded scars on your wrists. "The doctors, the therapy, the distance... It helped. But it didn't fix everything." You look up at him then, really look at him, taking in how the years have changed him. He's still JJ - still beautiful but there's something harder in his eyes now, something that wasn't there before.

You clutch his shirt in your hands, the familiar scent of him - salt air, coconut surf wax, and something distinctly JJ - making you dizzy with memories. "I..." you start, then swallow hard. "I wanted to call. Every single day, I picked up my phone and stared at your number until the screen went black."

"I missed you," You confess quietly, immediately regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. "I mean, I missed everyone," you quickly add, but you both know it's not the same thing. You can feel the weight of everything unsaid between you, three years' worth of words you never got to say. "You look happy," you say, trying to smile even though it feels like your heart is breaking all over again. "With Kie, I mean. You guys... you make sense together." The lie tastes bitter on your tongue, but you force it out anyway. Because what else can you say? That seeing them together feels like drowning? That every time you close your eyes, you still see him? That Maine might have helped you heal your mind, but it did nothing to heal your heart? 

A burst of laughter from inside makes him jump, reminding him where you are and who's waiting for him. "Happy?" he scoffs, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. "Yeah, sure. I'm fucking peachy." His sarcasm is sharp enough to cut, a defense mechanism he's perfected over the years. He takes another long drink from his beer, finishing it in one go before setting it down with more force than necessary. "And don't do that shit about me and Kie making sense. You don't get to..." he stops himself again, running a hand over his face.

"Fuck, Y/N/N," JJ breathes out, using your old nickname without thinking. His fingers twitch at his sides, wanting to reach for you but knowing he can't. The sight of you touching your wrist scars makes his stomach turn - he remembers the day he found you, remembers the blood, remembers feeling more terrified than he'd ever been in his life.

"You can't just come back here and say shit like that," he says, his voice rough with emotion. He runs both hands through his hair in frustration, pacing a small circle on the deck. "You left, Y/N. You fucking left and I..." he trails off, the rest of the sentence dying in his throat. The memory of those first few weeks, after you disappeared, hits him like a physical blow - the drinking, the fights, the reckless behavior that even John B couldn't talk him down from.

"I didn't want to leave, JJ," You say, taking a step closer to him despite yourself. The electricity between you is almost tangible now. "You think I wanted to be shipped off to fucking Maine? To be locked up in some facility where they watched my every move? Where they made me talk about every fucking thing that was wrong with me?" Your voice rises slightly before you catch yourself, glancing nervously at the house. "I was drowning here, JJ. I was drowning and I couldn't..." 

"You know what? Fuck this," JJ says suddenly, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else - something that looks dangerously close to the way he used to look at you. "You want to know what happened after you left? I fucking lost it, Y/N. I was so fucked up I couldn't even..." he cuts himself off, aware he's saying too much. The space between you feels charged with electricity, like the air before a storm. 

"But hey, at least the doctors fixed you up real nice, right?" The words are meant to sting, but there's a tremor in his voice that betrays him. He's still that same boy who used to sneak into your room at night, who used to hold you when the darkness got too heavy, who promised he'd always be there - until you made it impossible to keep that promise." His eyes intense as they lock onto yours. "I used to check your social media every fucking day. Every. Day. Just to make sure you were still..." he trails off, unable to finish the sentence. 

Your hands tremble as you clutch his shirt tighter, his familiar scent making your head spin. "Lost it?" You repeat, your voice cracking. "You think you were the only one who lost it?" The words come out sharper than intended, years of buried pain rising to the surface. Your skin flushes with anger and hurt, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. The bitterness in his voice when he mentions the doctors makes you flinch. "Fixed me up real nice?" You repeat, a hollow laugh escaping your lips. "Is that what you think? That I'm all better now? That I just went away and came back brand new?" You move closer still, close enough to see the flecks of darker blue in his eyes, close enough to smell the beer on his breath. "I still have nightmares. I still get days where I can barely get out of bed. The only difference is now I have better coping mechanisms than..." 

His confession about checking your social media makes your heart stutter in your chest. "I deactivated everything," you admit quietly, your voice thick with emotion. "Because every time I logged on, all I wanted to do was message you. Tell you I was sorry. Tell you I..." you stop yourself, very aware of how close you're standing now, of the fact that he's still shirtless, of Kiara just inside the house. "It doesn't matter now, does it?" You say, taking a step back, trying to create some distance between you even though every cell in your body screams to move closer. "You moved on. You're happy. That's... that's good." The lie tastes like poison on your tongue, but you force it out anyway, because what right do you have to come back here and disrupt his life? What right do you have to still want him this much?

JJ's body tenses as Pope's voice cuts through the charged atmosphere. "What’s taking so long with those beers? John B's about to start drinking mouthwash if we don't..." Pope trails off as he steps onto the deck, his eyes darting between JJ's shirtless form and you holding the said shirt. "Oh shit, my bad, I didn't..." he starts, but JJ cuts him off with a sharp laugh that sounds more like a bark.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Pope," JJ says, his voice carrying an edge that makes Pope raise his eyebrows. JJ snatches up the case of beer from the cooler, his movements jerky and aggressive. "Just catching up with our prodigal pogue here. Sharing war stories about her fancy fucking therapy in Maine." The words come out dripping with sarcasm, but there's a tremor in his hands as he grips the beer case. The porch light catches the tension in his jaw, the way his muscles are coiled tight like he's ready to either fight or flee.

"JJ," Pope says warningly, recognizing the signs of his friend spiraling. He's seen this before - usually right before JJ does something spectacularly stupid. "Maybe we should all just-" But JJ's already moving, shouldering past both of them towards the house. He pauses at the door, his back to you, his knuckles white around the beer case. "You know what the fucked up part is?" he says, not turning around. "I actually thought..." he stops, letting out a bitter laugh. "Doesn't matter what I thought. Welcome home, Y/N. Hope Maine was worth it."

Pope watches JJ disappear inside before turning to you with an apologetic look. "He was really messed up when you left," he says quietly, always the mediator. "Like, more than usual messed up. Started getting into fights with Topper almost daily, drinking more than his dad. Kiara was the only one who could calm him down sometimes." He runs a hand over his face, looking tired. "Look, I know it's not my place, but... maybe give him some time? He's better now, but seeing you again..." Pope glances at the door where you can hear JJ's forced laughter mixing with the others. "It's like reopening an old wound, you know?"

You stare at the door JJ just disappeared through, your heart feeling like it's being ripped apart all over again. His shirt is still clutched in your trembling hands, and you bring it unconsciously closer to your chest. You can feel tears threatening to spill over. "Time?" You repeat Pope's words with a hollow laugh. "Yeah, because three years wasn't enough time, right?" Your voice cracks on the last word, and you have to take a deep breath to steady yourself.

"In Maine, they made us write letters. Letters to everyone we hurt, everyone who hurt us. I wrote so many letters to JJ that they had to give me extra paper." You let out a shaky breath, running your fingers over the soft fabric of JJ's shirt. "Never sent a single one. How do you put three years of 'I'm sorry' and 'I miss you' and 'I still...' into words that don't sound completely fucking pathetic?"

The sound of breaking glass comes from inside, followed by Kiara's concerned "JJ?" Pope closes his eyes and sighs. "And there it is. I better..." he gestures towards the house. "You coming?" The question hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of everything that's just transpired.

The sound of Kiara's concerned voice calling for JJ makes your stomach twist painfully. "You should go check on him," you say to Pope, finally looking up. Your eyes are swimming with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall. "I'll... I'll be in in a minute. Just need to..." You gesture vaguely at yourself, trying to pull together the pieces of your composure that JJ's words had shattered. "And Pope?" You call as he turns to leave. "I know everyone probably hates me for leaving. Hell, I hate myself for it. But I didn't have a choice. It was either leave or..." 

You can hear more commotion from inside - JJ's voice raised, something else breaking, Kiara trying to calm him down. The sound makes your chest ache in a way that feels physical. "Fuck," you whisper to yourself, looking down at JJ's shirt still in your hands. You bring it to your face, inhaling his scent one last time before forcing yourself to fold it neatly. You’ll have to give it back eventually, but right now, you need a moment to remember how to breathe without feeling like you’re drowning all over again. The irony isn't lost on you - you left the Outer Banks to stop feeling like you were drowning, only to come back and find yourself deeper underwater than ever before.

The tension in living room is thick enough to cut with a knife as you enter. JJ is sprawled on the couch next to Kiara, his arm draped possessively around her shoulders while nursing what appears to be his fifth beer. There's broken glass by the kitchen counter that Sarah's carefully sweeping up, shooting concerned glances at everyone.

"So this competition tomorrow," John B says too loudly, clearly trying to diffuse the tension. "Heard Topper's entering too." He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, picking at the label of his beer bottle. "Gonna be some sick waves though, bro. Weather report's saying six-footers at least."

JJ snorts, his blue eyes deliberately avoiding your direction. "Yeah, well, Topper can suck my-" Kiara elbows him in the ribs, cutting him off. "What? I'm just saying the trust fund baby probably can't even tell the difference between the nose and tail of his board." His words are slightly slurred, with anger and alcohol making his voice thicker.

"Actually," Sarah pipes up from the kitchen, dumping the broken glass in the trash, "I heard he's been practicing a lot." She settles onto the arm of John B's chair, her blonde hair catching the dim light. "Something about wanting to prove himself or whatever."

Pope shifts slightly as you sit next to him, creating a protective barrier between you and JJ. "You still surf, Y/N?" he asks, trying to include you in the conversation. "Remember that time you totally schooled JJ on that left break by the pier?"

"Fuck off, Pope," JJ snaps, his grip tightening on his beer bottle. "That was one time, and I was hungover as shit." Kiara places a calming hand on his thigh, but he shrugs it off, standing up abruptly. "I need another beer."

"Maybe you should slow down," Kiara suggests gently, reaching for his hand. "The competition's early tomorrow and-"

"I said I need another fucking beer," JJ cuts her off, his voice sharp. He stalks toward the kitchen, purposely taking the long way around to avoid passing near you. "And for the record," he adds, pausing in the doorway, "that left break? I let her win. Figured she needed the ego boost since she was so fucking fragile back then." The words are meant to wound, and from the way you tense beside him, Pope can tell they hit their mark.

John B stands up, running a hand through his hair. "JJ, bro, come on-"

"What?" JJ whirls around, his eyes blazing. "We all just gonna pretend like everything's normal? Like she didn't just fuck off for three years and come waltzing back expecting everything to be the same?" He lets out a bitter laugh. "Nah, I'm good. You guys can play happy fucking family without me."

The room falls into a heavy silence after JJ's outburst. Sarah is the first to speak, her voice gentle but firm. "JJ, that's enough." She moves from her perch on John B's chair, positioning herself between JJ and the rest of the group.

Your hands are shaking as you stand up, your voice quiet but steady. "You want to do this now? Fine." You take a step forward, ignoring Pope's attempt to grab your arm. "You think you're the only one who was hurt? You think you're the only one who was fucked up?" Your voice rises slightly, years of pent-up emotion breaking through. "I didn't just 'fuck off' to Maine for fun, JJ. I went because the alternative was being lowered into the ground in a fucking coffin!"

Kiara stands up too, torn between her boyfriend and her old friend. "Y/N, maybe we should-"

"No, Kie," you cut her off, your eyes locked on JJ. "He wants to talk about being fragile? About letting me win? At least I'm trying to get better. What are you doing, JJ? Getting drunk and picking fights? Real fucking healthy."

John B moves to intervene, but Pope holds him back, shaking his head. This has been brewing since the moment you walked through the door.

"You know what the difference is between us?" You continue, your voice cracking. "I admit I'm broken. I went and got help because I was tired of hurting everyone around me. But you?" You let out a hollow laugh. "You're still that same scared little boy, hiding behind your anger and your booze because god forbid anyone see that you're hurting too. You’re acting just like your daddy.” 

The moment the words leave your mouth, the room erupts into chaos. JJ's beer bottle shatters in his hand as he lunges forward. "Don't you fucking DARE!" as John B and Pope rush to grab him. His muscles strain against their hold. "You don't get to say that shit! You don't get to fucking compare me to him!"

"JJ, stop!" Kiara shouts, but he's beyond hearing. His blue eyes are wild, unfocused, filled with a pain so deep it makes everyone in the room flinch. "You want to talk about being broken?" JJ spits, still fighting against John B and Pope's restraining arms. "At least I didn't run away! At least I stayed and faced my shit instead of leaving everyone wondering if you were even fucking alive!" His voice cracks on the last word, raw emotion bleeding through the anger. "Do you know how many times I drove by your house? How many nights I sat outside your window hoping you'd just... fuck!" 

 "Where the fuck was all this concern for mental health when I was showing up at your window covered in bruises? When I was sleeping on the beach because I was too scared to go home?" Blood continues to drip from his hand, creating a small puddle on the floor.

"You know what's really fucking funny?" JJ continues, his voice cracking. "The day you left? I was gonna tell you everything. About my dad, about how fucked up I was, about how you were the only person who made me feel like maybe I wasn't completely worthless." His words are like bullets, each one aimed to hit where it hurts most.

"Bro, calm down," John B grunts, struggling to maintain his grip. "This isn't helping-"

"Helping?" JJ lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. "Nothing helps! Nothing fucking helps because she LEFT!" He finally breaks free, stumbling forward but not advancing towards you. Instead, he stands there, chest heaving, looking more vulnerable than any of them has ever seen him. "You left," he repeats, quieter now, his voice thick with unshed tears. "You left and I couldn't... I couldn't fucking breathe. And now you're back and I still can't breathe and I..." He runs his hands through his hair violently, turning away from everyone.

Pope steps forward cautiously. "JJ, maybe we should-"

"Don't," JJ cuts him off, his voice dangerous again. "Just... don't." He grabs his keys from the counter, ignoring Kiara's protests. "I need to get the fuck out of here before I..." He doesn't finish the sentence, just storms out, the screen door slamming behind him. The sound of his motorcycle roaring to life fills the night air moments later.

The room falls into a heavy silence after JJ's dramatic exit. You stand frozen, your whole body trembling as tears finally spill down your cheeks. Sarah is the first to move, wrapping her arms around you as you begin to sob.

"I didn't mean..." you choke out between sobs. "I didn't mean to say that about his dad. I just... I was so angry and..." You collapse onto the couch, Sarah still holding you while Kiara paces anxiously by the door.

"Someone needs to go after him," Kiara says, grabbing her jacket. "He's drunk and upset, he shouldn't be on that bike." She looks torn between staying with you and chasing after her boyfriend.

John B runs a hand through his hair, exchanging worried looks with Pope. "I'll go," he says, grabbing his keys. "Pope, you stay here with them. Sarah, can you...?" He gestures at you, who's still crying into Sarah's shoulder.

"I got her," Sarah assures him. "Just... bring him back in one piece, okay?"

Pope starts cleaning up the broken glass, his movements careful and methodical. "You know," he says quietly, "JJ never told anyone this, but he used to sleep in your treehouse after you left. We'd find him up there some mornings, usually after really bad nights with his dad."

"He kept your bracelet too," Kiara adds softly, still hovering by the door. "The one you made him at that bonfire. Wears it under his watch sometimes." She pauses, conflict clear on her face. "I should go with John B-"

"No," you say, wiping your eyes. "Stay. Please. I... I need to tell you all something. About why I really left." You take a shaky breath, looking around at your friends - the family you left behind. "It wasn't just the self-harm or the suicide attempt. There was... there was more. And JJ... he deserves to know the truth. You all do."

Sarah squeezes your hand encouragingly while Pope settles on the floor in front of you. The sound of the Twinkie starting up outside fills the momentary silence.

"Take your time," Sarah says gently. "We're listening." 

John B finds JJ at their usual spot - the abandoned dock near the marsh where they used to fish as kids. JJ's sitting at the edge, legs dangling over the water, a fresh beer in his hand that he definitely grabbed from his emergency stash hidden in the old boat nearby. His motorcycle is parked haphazardly in the grass, still ticking as it cools down.

"Figured I'd find you here," John B says, settling down next to his best friend. The moonlight reflects off the water, casting everything in a silvery glow. "That was quite a show back there, bro."

JJ takes a long pull from his beer, his knuckles still bloody from the broken bottle. "Fuck off, John B," he mutters, but there's no real heat behind it. His hands are shaking slightly as he brings the bottle back to his lips. "I don't need another fucking lecture about controlling my temper or whatever shit you're about to say."

"Actually," John B says, pulling out two fresh beers from his pocket and handing one to JJ, "I was gonna say she had no right bringing up your dad." He cracks open his beer, the sound echoing across the quiet marsh. "That was fucked up."

JJ lets out a hollow laugh, running his uninjured hand through his messy hair. "You know what's fucked up? She's right." His voice cracks slightly. "I am turning into him. Getting drunk, breaking shit, can't control my fucking temper..." He throws his empty bottle into the water with force, watching it disappear beneath the dark surface.

"Nah, man," John B shakes his head firmly. "You're nothing like Luke. You know how I know?" He waits until JJ looks at him. "Because you care. Like, actually give a shit about people. Luke never did." He pauses, choosing his next words carefully. "And you loved her. Still do, probably."

"Doesn't fucking matter now, does it?" JJ's voice is rough with emotion. "I'm with Kie. And Y/N... she's..." he trails off, unable to finish the sentence. The crickets chirp in the silence that follows, the marsh grass swaying in the gentle breeze.

"You know," John B says after a while, "Kie knows. Has known for a while, I think. About how you feel about Y/N." He takes another sip of his beer. "Maybe that's why she's been so... I don't know, different lately?"

JJ's head snaps up, his blue eyes wide in the moonlight. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Come on, bro," John B sighs. "You've been wearing that bracelet under your watch since the day Y/N left. You sleep in her old treehouse when shit gets bad. And the way you looked at her tonight... that wasn't just anger, man."

JJ stares out at the dark water, his jaw working as he processes John B's words. "It's not..." he starts, then stops, taking a long drink. "Fuck, man." The moonlight catches the silver threads in his shark tooth necklace as he shifts uncomfortably. "You can't just say shit like that about me and Kie."

"Why not?" John B presses, watching his best friend carefully. "Because it's true? Because you've been trying so hard to convince yourself that what you have with Kie is enough?" He dodges the empty beer can JJ throws at his head with practiced ease. "I love Kie, man. We all do. But she deserves better than being someone's second choice."

"You think I don't know that?" JJ explodes, jumping to his feet. He paces the dock, his shoes making the old wood creak. "You think I don't fucking hate myself for it? For not being able to..." he trails off, running both hands through his hair in frustration. "Y/N left, John B. She fucking left without a word and Kie... Kie was there. She picked up the pieces. She..."

"She's not Y/N," John B finishes quietly. The words hang in the humid night air, heavy with truth. "And that's not fair to any of you."

JJ stops pacing, bracing himself against one of the dock posts. His knuckles are white where they grip the wood, blood from his earlier injury leaving dark smears. "You should've seen her that night," he says so quietly John B almost misses it. "The night before she left. She came to my window like she always did when shit got bad. But something was different. She wouldn't look at me, wouldn't let me touch her. Just kept saying she was sorry." His voice cracks. "I should've known. Should've fucking done something."

"JJ..." John B starts, but JJ cuts him off.

"And now she's back," he continues, his voice rough. "She's back and she's wearing that fucking perfume that makes my head spin, and she's got these new scars I don't know the stories too, and she's looking at me like... like..." He slams his fist into the post, adding fresh splinters to his already injured hand. "Like I'm still that stupid kid who couldn't save her. How I didn't see how bad it was getting. How I was so caught up in my shit with my dad that I missed all the signs." He runs his hands through his hair roughly. "And you know what the worst part is? Even after everything, even with Kie... I still..." He can't finish the sentence, but he doesn't need to.

The marsh is quiet except for the gentle lapping of water against the dock and the distant sound of a boat horn. John B watches as his best friend falls apart, knowing there's nothing he can say to make this better. "Maybe," he finally suggests, "you should talk to Kie. Like, really talk to her. And then..." he hesitates. "Maybe you should talk to Y/N too. About everything."

JJ lets out a bitter laugh. "Yeah? And say what? 'Sorry, I just had a fucking meltdown in front of everyone because seeing you still makes me feel like I'm drowning'? 'Sorry, I'm such a fuck up I couldn't even move on properly'?" He slides down to sit on the dock again, his energy seemingly drained. "Nah, man. Some things are better left buried."

The two make their way to the van it rumbles down the dark road, headlights cutting through the night as John B glances worriedly at JJ in the passenger seat. JJ is slumped against the window, his breath fogging up the glass, the streetlights casting intermittent shadows across his face. His bloody knuckles rest in his lap, the makeshift bandage John B made from his t-shirt already soaking through.

"Your dad's been better lately, right?" John B asks cautiously, turning onto JJ's street. "Like, with the new job and everything?" He knows these periods of calm with Luke are temporary, like the eye of a hurricane - peaceful until it's not.

JJ lets out a laugh, his eyes still fixed on the passing shadows outside. "Yeah, for now. Give it a week, maybe two if we're lucky." His voice is tired, drained of its usual energy. "He's actually buying groceries instead of beer. Fucking miracle, right?" The sarcasm in his voice is thick enough to cut.

As they pull up to JJ's house, they can see Luke's truck in the driveway, the porch light on - a rare sight. Through the window, they can see him moving around in the kitchen, looking almost normal, almost like a real father. "You sure you don't want to crash at my place?" John B offers, killing the engine. "Sarah won't mind, and you know Pope's probably got Y/N calmed down by now..."

"Don't," JJ warns, his voice sharp. "Just... don't say her name right now, okay?" He runs his uninjured hand through his hair, a nervous habit that's become more frequent since your return. "I can't... I can't think about that shit right now. About what she said, about Kie, about..." he trails off, shaking his head.

The front door opens, and Luke steps onto the porch. "JJ? That you, son?" His voice carries across the yard, lacking its usual angry slur. "Got some leftovers if you're hungry. Made that fish you like." The attempt at normalcy is almost more unsettling than his usual violence.

"Fuck," JJ mutters, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Look at him, playing father of the year." He grabs his backpack from the backseat, wincing as the movement jars his injured hand. "Thanks for the ride, bro. And for..." he gestures vaguely, encompassing everything that happened at the dock.

"JJ," John B calls as his friend opens the door. "Just... be careful, okay? And if shit goes south..." He doesn't need to finish the sentence. They both know JJ's always got a place at the Chateau.

"Yeah, yeah," JJ forces a grin that doesn't reach his eyes. "Save the emotional shit for Sarah, man." He slams the van door, shouldering his backpack as he heads toward the house. Each step feels heavy like he's walking through water. The weight of everything - your return, his relationship with Kiara, his dad's temporary stability - sits on his shoulders like a physical burden.

Luke's waiting at the door, and for once, his eyes are clear. "Rough night?" he asks, noticing JJ's bandaged hand. There's genuine concern in his voice, the kind that makes JJ's chest ache because he knows it won't last.

He follows his father into the house, the familiar scent of fried fish and something else - hope, maybe? - filling the air. The kitchen is cleaner than he's seen it in years, dishes are actually washed and put away, no empty bottles littering the counters. It's like walking into a funhouse mirror version of his life, everything familiar but slightly wrong.

"Sit," Luke gestures to the table, already moving to reheat the food. "Got paid today. Foreman says I'm doing good work." There's pride in his voice, the kind JJ used to dream of hearing when he was younger. "Even got you something." He pulls out a small package from one of the kitchen drawers, sliding it across the table.

JJ stares at the package like it might bite him, his injured hand throbbing in rhythm with his heartbeat. "Dad, you didn't have to..." he starts, but Luke waves him off.

"Open it," Luke insists, putting a plate of steaming fish and rice in front of JJ. "Saw it at the store, thought of you." His voice is gruff with emotion he doesn't know how to express.

With trembling fingers, JJ unwraps the package. Inside is a new surf wax and a professional-grade fishing lure - the expensive kind they used to admire together in the shop window when JJ was little. "This is..." he swallows hard, something thick and painful lodging in his throat.

"For the competition tomorrow," Luke explains, sitting down across from him with his own plate. "Figured you could use some good gear." He pauses, studying JJ's face. "Your hand gonna be okay to surf?"

JJ flexes his fingers experimentally, wincing. "Yeah, it's fine. Just some scratches." He doesn't mention how he got them, and Luke doesn't ask. Some things are better left unsaid, even in this temporary peace.

They eat in relative silence, the only sounds are the scrape of forks against plates and the distant hum of crickets outside. JJ can't help but wait for the other shoe to drop, for his father to notice the alcohol on his breath, or ask why he came home so late. But Luke just keeps eating, occasionally glancing at JJ with something that looks almost like concern.

"Y/N’s back," Luke says suddenly, making JJ choke on his rice. "Saw her at the store today. She's grown up nice." He says it casually, like he doesn't know the weight those words carry like he doesn't remember the nights JJ came home drunk and broken after you left.

JJ's grip on his fork tightens, his knuckles white. "Dad..." he warns, but Luke continues.

"You know, I never told you this," Luke sets down his fork, his voice unusually serious. "But that girl... she used to come by sometimes when you were out. Would bring groceries, say she was just dropping off extras her mom bought." He lets out a dry laugh. "We both knew she was lying. She was checking on you, making sure I hadn't..." he trails off, shame coloring his voice.

The revelation hits JJ like a physical blow. He pushes back from the table, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I can't... I can't do this right now," he manages to say, his voice rough. "Thanks for dinner. And the..." he gestures at the gifts, unable to finish.

Luke nods, understanding in his eyes that hurts worse than any punch he's ever thrown. "Get some rest, son. Big day tomorrow." He watches as JJ practically flees to his room, the sound of his door closing echoing through the unusually quiet house.

In his room, JJ collapses onto his bed. The surf wax and lure sit on his nightstand, mocking him with their newness, their promise of a father he's always wanted but never quite had. He pulls out his phone, seeing missed calls from Kiara and texts from the group chat. But it's his wallpaper that catches his eye - still that old photo of him and you at the beach, your smile bright and real, his arm around your shoulders. He'd never changed it, not even after starting things with Kiara.

"Fuck," he whispers into the darkness, throwing his arm over his eyes. Tomorrow's competition suddenly seems like the least of his problems.

JJ is hunched over his surfboard on the front porch, a half-eaten piece of toast dangling from his mouth as he meticulously applies the new wax his father gave him. The morning sun casts long shadows across the worn wood of the porch, the air already thick with humidity. His injured hand throbs as he works, the makeshift bandage John B wrapped it in last night now stained and fraying.

The knock makes him jump, nearly dropping the wax block. "It's open!" he calls out, not looking up from his work. He knows it's Kiara before she even speaks - recognizes the pattern of her footsteps, the jingle of the shell anklet she always wears.

"Hey," Kiara's voice is soft and cautious. She's wearing her competition bikini under a loose tank top, her curly hair pulled back in a messy bun. "You weren't answering your phone." She settles down next to him on the porch steps, close but not touching - a careful distance that speaks volumes.

JJ continues working on his board, his movements perhaps more aggressive than necessary. "Yeah, well, been kind of busy." He gestures at the board with his injured hand, causing Kiara to suck in a sharp breath at the sight of his knuckles.

"Jesus, JJ," she reaches for his hand but he pulls away, standing up abruptly. "We need to talk about last night-"

"No," JJ cuts her off, running his good hand through his already messy hair. "We really don't. I fucked up, lost my temper, same old shit. Can we just..." he trails off, finally looking at her. The concern in her eyes makes his stomach twist with guilt.

Kiara stands too, crossing her arms. "Y/N told us everything last night," she says quietly. "After you left. About why she really went away." She watches as JJ's entire body tenses, his jaw clenching. "JJ, it wasn't just about the self-harm and the attempt. She was-"

"Stop," JJ's voice is sharp, dangerous. He turns away from her, gripping the porch railing so hard his knuckles turn white. "I don't want to know. I can't... I can't hear that shit right now. Not before the competition."

"You can't keep running from this," Kiara says, her voice stronger now. "And you can't keep pretending that what we have is..." she stops, taking a deep breath. "I see the way you look at her, JJ. I've always seen it. Even when you're angry at her, even when you're with me, you look at her like... like she's the sun and you're drowning in her light."

JJ lets out a bitter laugh, turning back to face her. "That's some poetic shit, Kie." But there's no humor in his voice, just pain and exhaustion. "What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? That I'm a fucking mess who can't get his shit together? That I-"

"I want you to be honest," Kiara interrupts. "With me, with yourself, with her." She steps closer, reaching up to touch his face gently. "We both knew this wasn't forever, JJ. We were just... holding each other together until something better came along."

"You deserve better than that," JJ says quietly, leaning into her touch despite himself. "Better than me using you as a bandaid for my fucked up heart."

Kiara smiles sadly. "Yeah, I do. And so do you." She drops her hand, stepping back. "The competition starts soon. Y/N’s entering too, by the way. JJ? She still wears that shell necklace you made her. Never took it off, even in Maine."

The information hits JJ like a physical blow, making him grip the railing tighter. The surf wax sits abandoned on his board, the morning sun turning it soft and sticky. JJ sighs heavily, sliding down to sit on the porch steps. The morning sun continues to rise, casting long shadows across the yard where weeds push through cracked concrete - a perfect metaphor for their relationship, beautiful things growing in broken places.

"You're not mad?" JJ asks finally, his voice rough. He picks at the fraying bandage on his hand, avoiding her eyes. "About... everything?"

Kiara lets out a soft laugh sitting back down next to him bumping his shoulder with hers. "I mean, I probably should be. But honestly?" She tilts her face toward the sun, closing her eyes. "I think I've known since the beginning. We were both just... trying to fill empty spaces."

JJ runs his good hand through his hair, a nervous habit he can't shake. "You're too good for this shit, Kie. Too good for me and my fucked up baggage." He glances at her sideways. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I know," Kiara says simply. "And hey, at least we had some good times, right?" She grins at him, that familiar sparkle in her eyes. "Like that time we got caught skinny dipping at the country club pool?"

"Fuck," JJ laughs despite himself, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Your dad's face when he found us... thought he was gonna have a stroke." The memory feels lighter now, less weighted with guilt.

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment. Finally, Kiara speaks again, her voice gentle but firm. "You need to talk to her, JJ. Like, really talk to her. No yelling, no running away."

JJ's jaw tightens. "Kie..."

"No, listen," she cuts him off. "What she told us last night... it changes things. And you deserve to know." She stands up, brushing off her shorts. "But first, you need to kick Topper's ass in this competition. Show him that pogues rule the waves, right?"

JJ looks up at her, gratitude and affection washing over him. "How are you so fucking cool about all this?"

Kiara shrugs, a small smile playing on her lips. "Because I love you both, you idiot. Just... not in the way we've been pretending." She starts walking backward toward her car. "See you at the beach. And JJ?" She pauses. "Whatever Y/N told us last night? It's not my story to tell. But when she does tell you... just remember she never stopped loving you either."

JJ watches her drive away, his heart feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time. He turns back to his surfboard, running his fingers over the fresh wax. The competition starts soon, and somewhere on that beach, you’ll be there. The thought makes his stomach flip in a way that has nothing to do with pre-competition nerves.

The beach is alive with pre-competition energy, the morning sun casting long shadows across the sand as spectators and competitors mill about. The group has claimed your usual spot, a patch of sand near the judges' stand where you're spread out with blankets and coolers. The air smells of salt spray and sunscreen, mixed with the distant scent of food vendors setting up their stalls.

JJ sits cross-legged next to Pope, obsessively checking the fins on his board while stealing glances at you. His injured hand is wrapped in fresh bandages - Pope's handiwork from earlier that morning. "You think the swell's gonna hold?" he asks Pope, his voice tighter than usual. "Weather report said it might pick up around noon."

"Dude, stop stressing," Pope replies, not looking up from his phone where he's tracking the wind patterns. "You could surf these waves in your sleep." He pauses, glancing at his friend. "Though maybe focus more on the waves and less on staring at Y/N every five seconds?"

A few feet away, Kiara and you sit huddled over your board, your heads close together as you work on the design. "Pass me the blue paint?" Kiara asks, her voice carefully casual. "I think it'll pop against the white."

"Here," You hand over the paint pen, your finger steady as you work on your own section of the board. "Thanks for helping me with this, Kie. I know it's... weird."

Sarah's voice carries over from where she's practically sitting in John B's lap, her laugh bright in the morning air. "John B, I swear to God, if you get any more sunscreen in my hair..." She squirms as he deliberately rubs more lotion on her neck.

"What? I'm being helpful!" John B protests, grinning. "Can't have my girl turning into a lobster." He catches JJ's eye and makes an exaggerated kissing face, earning himself a handful of sand thrown his way.

"Get a room, you two," Pope groans, but there's affection in his voice. "Some of us are trying to focus here."

"Yeah, focus on what?" JJ snaps, more harshly than intended. "The competition doesn't start for another hour." His eyes drift back to you, watching as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear - a gesture so familiar it makes his chest ache.

"Speaking of the competition," Sarah pipes up, clearly trying to diffuse the tension, "heard Topper's been practicing his aerial moves. Might actually give you a run for your money this time, JJ."

"Please," JJ scoffs, his trademark cockiness returning. "Trust fund baby probably had to pay someone to teach him which end of the board goes in front." But his bravado falters when he catches you hiding a smile at his comment.

"The waves are looking good though," you offer quietly, your first direct contribution to the group conversation. "Nice clean sets coming in." Your voice carries over the beach noise, making JJ's hands still on his board.

The group falls into a loaded silence, everyone pretending not to notice the way JJ and you carefully avoid looking at each other, or how Kiara's shoulders relax slightly when JJ doesn't snap back with a sarcastic comment.

"Alright, enough of this weird energy," Pope announces, standing up and brushing sand off his shorts. "Who wants to help me get drinks from the vendor? We've got..." he checks his watch, "forty-five minutes to get JJ properly hydrated before he has to show these kooks how it's done."

"Let me help," Sarah jumps up, linking her arm through Pope's. "John B, Y/N, you coming?" There's a pointed look in her eyes that everyone pretends not to notice.

"I'm good," You reply, still focused on your board design. "Need to finish this before the competition starts." Your fingers trace the intricate pattern you and Kiara have created - waves and stars intertwining across the white surface.

"Me too," John B replies, stretching out on their blanket. "Someone's gotta make sure these two don't kill each other." He gestures vaguely between JJ and you, earning himself a glare from both of you.

Kiara looks up from the surfboard, her hands covered in paint. "Get me one of those açai bowls if they have them?" she calls after Pope and Sarah. "And maybe some water for everyone? It's getting hot out here."

As Pope and Sarah head toward the vendors, the remaining group falls into an awkward silence. JJ continues fidgeting with his board, though there's nothing left to adjust. The morning sun beats down on you, the humidity making everything feel sticky and tense. The beach is getting more crowded now, the excitement building as more competitors arrive with their boards.

"Your hand looks better," You say suddenly, your voice soft but carrying clearly over the beach noise. You're still focused on your board, not looking up, but your fingers have stilled on the paint pen.

JJ flexes his injured hand unconsciously. "Yeah, well, Pope's got practice wrapping shit up. Comes with being friends with a walking disaster." He tries for his usual sarcastic tone but it falls flat.

"Remember that time you tried to do a backflip off the pier?" John B interjects, clearly trying to ease the tension. "Pope had to use an entire first aid kit on your stupid ass."

"That was one time," JJ protests, a genuine smile finally cracking through his facade. "And I totally would've landed it if that jellyfish hadn't been in the way."

"There was no jellyfish," Kiara laughs, rolling her eyes. "You just chickened out halfway through."

"I did not!" JJ's voice rises indignantly. "Tell them, Y/N/N, you were there-" He cuts himself off abruptly, realizing he'd used your old nickname without thinking.

The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the distant sound of waves and other competitors warming up. Your hand has started trembling slightly, though you try to hide it by gripping the paint pen tighter.

"There definitely wasn't a jellyfish," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But there was that group of tourist girls watching, and you were trying to show off..."

"Classic JJ," John B jumps in, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "Always trying to impress the ladies with his 'sick moves.'" He makes air quotes with his fingers.

The moment breaks when someone calls out "Maybank!" from down the beach. It's one of the competition organizers, clipboard in hand. "You're up in heat three, twenty minutes!"

"Shit," JJ mutters, standing up and grabbing his board. "I should probably warm up or whatever." He pauses, looking down at your board. "The design's good," he says quietly, before quickly adding, "Both of you. It's... yeah." He turns and jogs toward the water, his board under his arm.

"Well, that was almost a normal conversation," John B observes, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Kiara. "What? I'm just saying..."

"I should warm up too," You say suddenly, standing and picking up your board. The morning sun catches the shell necklace around your neck - the one JJ made you years ago - making it gleam.

"Want company?" Kiara offers, but you shake your head.

"I need to..." you gesture vaguely toward the opposite end of the beach from where JJ went. "You know."

They watch as you walk away, your hair blowing in the ocean breeze. John B wraps an arm around Kiara's shoulders. "They'll figure it out," he says confidently. "They always do."

"Yeah," Kiara agrees, leaning into him. "But how many hearts are gonna get broken in the process?"

The question hangs in the air as they watch you two paddle out into the waves from opposite ends of the beach, like magnets simultaneously attracting and repelling each other. The waves crash against the shore as the competition gets underway, the beach packed with spectators cheering from the sand. The morning sun glints off the water, creating perfect conditions for the surfers waiting in the lineup. JJ sits on his board, straddling it as he watches the sets roll in, his injured hand gripping the rails slightly tighter than necessary. He's in heat three, along with you and Kiara, a cruel twist of fate that has his stomach in knots.

From the beach, John B's voice carries over the crowd. "Let's go, JJ! Show these kooks how it's done!" Sarah and Pope join in with their cheers, their enthusiasm infectious enough to draw smiles from other spectators.

JJ catches sight of you about twenty yards to his left, the shell necklace he made you glints in the sun. You're focused on the horizon, reading the waves with an intensity he remembers well from your late-night surfing sessions years ago. Kiara floats between you two, creating a triangle formation in the water, her presence both a buffer and a reminder of everything that's changed.

"First wave of heat three!" the announcer's voice booms over the speakers. "Riders, get ready!"

A set approaches and JJ feels the familiar surge of adrenaline. He watches as you turn your board, positioning yourself for the wave. Your form is different now - more refined, more confident. You catch the wave with practiced ease, your movement fluid as you drop in. The crowd cheers as you execute a perfect bottom turn, spraying water in an arc that catches the sunlight.

"Fuck," JJ mutters under his breath, both impressed and frustrated. He spots his own wave approaching, bigger than yours, and paddles hard. As he pops up, everything else fades away - the crowd, the competition, the complicated mess of emotions. It's just him and the wave, the way it's always been. He drives hard off the bottom, launching into an aerial that has the crowd screaming. His injured hand protests as he grabs his rail, but he sticks the landing, finishing with a powerful snap off the lip.

Kiara catches the next wave, her style more aggressive than yours but equally skilled. She shoots JJ a quick smile as she paddles back out, no trace of their earlier conversation in her expression. You're all competitors now, regardless of your personal drama.

The heat continues, each rider pushing themselves harder with each wave. JJ finds himself watching you more than he should, noticing how you’ve incorporated new techniques into your surfing. There's a grace to your movements that wasn't there before, a confidence that makes his chest tight with something between pride and regret.

From the beach, Pope's voice cuts through the crowd noise: "Time check! Two minutes left in the heat!"

JJ sits up straighter on his board, scanning for one last good wave. He needs something big to secure his spot in the finals. A set approaches, and he can see both you and Kiara eyeing it too. It's the kind of wave you used to fight over during your dawn patrol sessions - clean, powerful, perfect for showing off.

The tension in the water is palpable as you all turn toward shore, ready to battle for position. JJ glances at you, catching your eye for the first time since you paddled out. For a moment, it's like nothing has changed - you're just two kids from the Cut, living for the next wave. Then the moment breaks as the announcer's voice booms: "Final wave of heat three approaching! Who's gonna take it?"

The tension crackles through the air as all three surfers eye the approaching wave. JJ's muscles tense as he prepares to paddle, but suddenly you make your move first, cutting across his line with precise timing. You catch the wave perfectly, popping up with fluid grace that makes the crowd gasp.

"Holy shit!" John B's voice carries over the noise as you drop into the face of the wave. Your form is flawless, body low and controlled as you set up for your first maneuver. 

JJ can't help but watch, even as he and Kiara paddle back to position. You carve up the face of the wave, your movements more aggressive than before, spraying water in an arc that catches the sunlight. You transition into a series of snaps that have the judges leaning forward in their seats, before setting up for your finale.

"No fucking way," JJ mutters, recognizing the setup. It's a move you used to practice together, late at night when the beach was empty - a risky aerial that you’d perfected during those endless summer sessions. You launch off the lip, grabbing your rail and rotating in a way that seems to defy gravity. The landing is clean, and precise, sending another spray of water toward the sky as the crowd erupts.

"That's my girl!" Sarah screams from the beach, jumping up and down while clutching John B's arm. Pope's got his phone out, recording everything while shouting his own encouragement.

As you paddle back out, JJ catches your eye again. There's something different in your expression now - a mix of pride, challenge, and something else he can't quite read. Kiara paddles up beside him, a knowing look on her face.

"Damn," Kiara whistles low. "She's been practicing."

"Time!" The announcer's voice booms across the water. "Heat three is complete! Riders, return to shore for scoring."

The paddle back is quiet, each lost in your own thoughts as the judges figure out scores. JJ can feel the energy on the beach, knowing without looking that your last wave changed everything. As you hit the shallows, John B and Pope rush out to help with your boards.

"That was fucking insane!" John B exclaims, grabbing your board. "When did you learn to fly?"

You push your wet hair back, that shell necklace still somehow perfectly in place. "Maine has waves too," you say quietly, but your eyes flick to JJ as you say it. "Different, but good for practicing."

"Attention competitors," the announcer's voice cuts through their conversation. "Scores for heat three are ready..."

The group falls silent, tension building as you wait for the results. JJ finds himself holding his breath, his injured hand throbbing. The morning sun is high now, turning the ocean into a field of diamonds, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers teaching you that aerial on a night just like this, under a full moon with no one else around.

The announcer's voice crackles over the speakers: "In third place, with a score of 8.7 - Kiara Carrera!"

Kiara grins, accepting high-fives from the group. "Not bad for a warmup," she says, squeezing water from her hair. Her eyes dart between JJ and you, anticipating what comes next.

"In second place, with a score of 9.2..." The pause feels endless, "JJ Maybank!"

JJ's jaw tightens, his fingers flexing around his board. He knows what's coming, and can feel it in the electric tension running through their little group. Pope claps him on the shoulder, but he barely feels it.

"And taking first place in heat three, with a score of 9.8 - Y/N L/N! That final aerial was something else, folks!"

The beach erupts in cheers, but JJ's focused on your face - the way your eyes widen in surprise, the slight tremor in your hands as Sarah pulls you into a crushing hug. You look exactly like you did years ago when you landed your first aerial under his guidance.

"Holy shit, Y/N!" John B whoops, lifting you off your feet in celebration. "That was fucking incredible!"

"All riders advancing to the finals, please check the board for heat assignments," the announcer continues. "Thirty-minute break before the next round."

JJ watches as they swarm you with congratulations, his emotions a tangled mess he can't sort through. Pride, jealousy, regret, and something deeper, something that feels like the undertow that used to drag you both out during night sessions.

"You taught her that aerial," Kiara says quietly beside him, her voice carrying a knowing tone. "I remember watching you two practice it for weeks."

Before JJ can respond, you break away from the group, approaching them with hesitant steps. You're holding something in your hand - his old surf wax, the one he'd always let you borrow during your sessions.

"Found this in my bag this morning," you say, your voice barely audible over the beach noise. "Thought you might want it back." Your finger brushes his as you hand it over, sending a jolt through his system that has nothing to do with the competition.

"Keep it," he finds himself saying, his voice rougher than intended. "Looks like you're putting it to better use anyway." He tries to make it sound casual, but there's too much history in those words, too many memories of dawn patrols and midnight sessions and promises made under starlit skies.

The moment stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words, until Pope's voice breaks through: "Guys! They're posting the final heat assignments!"

The group moves toward the bulletin board, but JJ hangs back, watching you walk away. The shell necklace catches the light again, and he remembers making it for you on this very beach, his fingers working the knots while you talked about constellations and dreams and futures that seemed possible then.

"You okay?" Kiara asks, lingering beside him.

"Yeah," JJ lies, running a hand through his salt-stiffened hair. "Just... fuck." He doesn't need to finish the sentence. Kiara understands - she always has.

The finals loom ahead, but all JJ can think about is that aerial, and how your form was exactly the same as when he first taught it to you, right down to the way you point your toes during the rotation. Some things, it seems, don't change - even when everything else does.

The beach is winding down as the sun begins its descent, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks. The competition crowd has thinned, leaving behind only the most dedicated spectators and the Pogues, who are sprawled out on their blankets celebrating their friends' success. JJ, you, and Kiara stand together on the podium, your medals glinting in the late afternoon light.

"Third place, Kiara Carrera!" The announcer's voice booms one final time. Kiara grins, holding up her bronze medal as Sarah and John B whoop and holler from the crowd.

"Second place, Y/N L/N!" You step forward, accepting your silver medal with a small smile. The shell necklace around your neck catches the light, drawing JJ's attention momentarily.

"And your first-place winner, JJ Maybank!" The crowd erupts as JJ accepts his gold medal, his signature cocky grin in place despite the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. His final wave had been spectacular - a combination of raw power and technical skill that even the most critical judges couldn't deny.

As you step down from the podium, Pope approaches with a cooler. "Time to celebrate properly!" he announces, pulling out beers for everyone. The group gravitates toward your usual spot on the beach, away from the dispersing crowd.

"To the most talented pogues in the OBX!" John B raises his beer, his other arm wrapped around Sarah's waist. "And to Kiara for not killing JJ when he snake dropped her wave in the finals!"

"Hey!" JJ protests, but he's laughing. "All's fair in love and surfing, right?" The words hang in the air for a moment, loaded with meaning as his eyes unconsciously drift to you.

"That last aerial though," Pope interjects, sensing the tension. "Thought you were gonna break your neck, JJ."

"Please," JJ scoffs, taking a long drink from his beer. "That was nothing compared to the shit we used to pull during night sessions." He freezes slightly, realizing what he's said, and who he's referencing.

You shift beside him, your silver medal catching the dying light. "Remember that time we tried to surf during a lightning storm?" You say quietly, surprising everyone. "John B had to come to rescue us in the Twinkie."

"Jesus," Sarah laughs, but her eyes are watchful. "You two were always doing crazy shit like that."

The group falls into a comfortable rhythm of storytelling and laughter, the competition tension slowly easing. JJ finds himself hyper-aware of your presence, the way you laugh at John B's terrible jokes, and how you unconsciously play with that shell necklace when you're thinking.

"You've improved," he says suddenly when the others are distracted by Pope's dramatic reenactment of a wipeout. "Your form, I mean. It's... different. Better."

You look at him, really look at him, for what feels like the first time since you’ve been back. "Had a good teacher," you reply softly, your fingers still toying with the necklace. "Some things you don't forget, even when you're trying to."

The weight of unspoken words hangs between you, heavy as storm clouds. Kiara watches you two from across the circle, a knowing look in her eyes as she catches JJ's gaze.

The Wreck is bustling with the usual dinner crowd, but Kiara's parents have reserved the back section for their celebration. The smell of fried shrimp and hush puppies fills the air as you pile around your favorite table, medals still hanging around the winners' necks. The sunset streams through the windows, casting everything in a warm golden glow.

JJ slouches in his chair, one arm draped over the back as he nurses his beer. His eyes keep drifting to you, who's sitting between Sarah and Pope, your hair still damp from the ocean. The shell necklace catches the light every time you move, a constant reminder of everything that's changed and everything that hasn't.

"Yo, check it out," John B nudges JJ, nodding toward the entrance where Topper and Rafe are making their way over. The entire table tenses slightly, years of rivalry making everyone wary.

"Hey," Topper says, stopping at their table. He looks different - less aggressive than usual, almost humble. "Just wanted to say... that was some sick surfing today. All of you." His eyes linger on you for a moment longer than necessary, making JJ's jaw clench.

Rafe, surprisingly sober, nods in agreement. "That move in the finals, Maybank? Pretty fucking impressive." He shifts uncomfortably, clearly not used to complimenting pogues. "And Y/N... didn't know you had moves like that."

"Thanks," you reply quietly, your fingers automatically going to the shell necklace. The gesture doesn't go unnoticed by anyone at the table, especially JJ.

"Yeah, well," JJ starts, his voice carrying an edge, but Kiara kicks him under the table. He swallows whatever sarcastic comment he is about to make. "Thanks, man. You weren't half bad either, Topper."

"Listen," Topper says, running a hand through his hair. "We're having a bonfire in Figure Eight tonight. Victory party kind of thing. You guys should come." The invitation hangs in the air, surprising everyone.

Sarah raises an eyebrow at her brother. "Rafe? You're okay with this?"

Rafe shrugs, looking almost uncomfortable. "New leaf and all that shit, right? Besides," he grins, some of his old cockiness returning, "can't let you pogues have all the fun."

The group exchanges looks, years of kook-pogue rivalry making them hesitant. It's Pope who finally speaks up. "Yeah, alright. Could be fun."

"Cool," Topper nods, already backing away. "Starts at nine. Bring whatever." He and Rafe head back to their table, leaving you in stunned silence.

"Did that just happen? Did we just have a civil conversation with Topper and Rafe?" Kiara says surprised.

"End times," Pope declares solemnly, making everyone laugh. "The apocalypse is definitely coming."

"Well, that was weird," John B says, voicing what everyone's thinking. "Think it's a trap?"

"Nah," Sarah shakes her head. "Topper's been different lately. And Rafe... well, rehab changed him. A little, anyway."

JJ snorts, taking another drink. "Still don't trust them." His eyes find you again. "You gonna go?"

The question feels heavier than it should, loaded with implications. You meet his gaze, something unreadable in your expression. "Maybe," you say softly. "Might be nice to see how the other half lives, right?"

The tension at the table shifts, everyone pretending not to notice the way JJ's grip tightens on his beer bottle, or how your fingers haven't left that shell necklace since Topper walked away.

"Well," Kiara stands up, ever the peacemaker, "if we're doing this, we should probably get more food first. Can't show up to a kook party on empty stomachs." She heads toward the kitchen, leaving the others to navigate the complicated dynamics at the table.

The bonfire casts dancing shadows across the beach as JJ stands near the water's edge, the sound of waves mixing with distant laughter and music from the kook party. He's already several beers in, trying to drown out the memories that keep surfacing every time he catches sight of you. The others have conspicuously disappeared - John B and Sarah wandering off toward the dunes, Pope getting caught up in some debate about marine biology with a group of college kids, and Kiara conveniently remembering she needed to help set up the speakers.

You approach quietly, your presence announced only by the soft crunch of sand under your feet. You’ve changed since dinner, wearing a loose white beach dress that catches the firelight, that damn shell necklace still around your neck. Without warning, you reach out and take his beer, replacing it with a bottle of water.

"The fuck, Y/N/N?" JJ protests, the nickname slipping out before he can stop it. His voice is rougher than usual, whether, from the alcohol or emotion, it's hard to tell.

"You've had enough," you say softly, but firmly. "And we both know you get mean when you drink too much." There's no judgment in your voice, just stated fact - you know him too well, even after all this time.

JJ runs a hand through his hair, agitation clear in every movement. "Yeah? And what makes you think you still get to make that call?" The words come out harsh, but he takes a drink from the water bottle anyway.

You settle into the sand, patting the spot next to you. After a moment's hesitation, JJ sits too, maintaining careful distance between you two. The fire casts an orange glow across your skin.

"Remember the last bonfire we were at together?" You ask suddenly, your voice barely audible over the waves. "Before... everything?"

JJ tenses beside you, his fingers digging into the sand. "Don't," he warns, but there's less bite in his voice now. "We're not doing this, Y/N."

"Aren't we?" You turn to look at him fully, the firelight reflecting in your eyes. "Because I think we've been doing this dance since I got back. Everyone sees it, JJ. Even Kiara-"

"Leave Kie out of this," he snaps, but you both know it's a weak protest. His hand unconsciously moves toward yours in the sand before he catches himself. The shell necklace gleams as you shift, drawing his attention. "You kept it," he says suddenly, nodding toward the necklace. "Even in Maine."

"Never took it off," you admit quietly. "Even when they..it was the only piece of home I had left. The only piece of you."

JJ's breath catches at your words, his fingers curling into fists in the sand. The firelight dances across your faces as the party continues behind you, but you might as well be alone on the beach. The sound of waves seems to grow louder, matching the thundering of his heart.

"You can't just..." he starts, his voice cracking.

"You can't just say shit like that, Y/N. Not after... not after everything."

You shift slightly closer, the hem of your white dress brushing against his leg. "Then what can I say, JJ? Because we need to talk about it. About that night. About why I really left." 

"Yeah?" JJ's voice turns sharp, defensive. "What's there to talk about? You made your choice. You left. End of fucking story." But his eyes betray him, constantly drawn to your face, to the necklace, to the way the firelight catches in your hair.

"It wasn't a choice," you say quietly, your voice trembling slightly. "My parents found the letters, JJ. The ones I wrote to you about... about everything. About your dad, about what we were planning..." You take a shaky breath. "About how much I loved you."

JJ's whole body goes rigid at your words. The water bottle crumples in his grip, forgotten. "Stop," he says, but it sounds more like a plea than a command. "Just... fuck, Y/N."

"You want to know why I really left?" You continue, your voice stronger now. "Because that night, after I left your house, after your dad..." you swallow hard. "After I saw what he did to you, I went home and wrote everything down. Every bruise I'd helped you hide, every night you climbed through my window bleeding, every time you flinched when someone moved too fast. I was going to turn him in, JJ. I couldn't watch him hurt you anymore."

The confession hangs in the air between you, heavy as storm clouds. JJ's breathing has become ragged, his jaw clenched so tight it must hurt. Behind you, someone cranks up the music, but it feels distant, muffled like you're underwater.

"My parents found the letters before I could do anything," you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. "They read everything - about us, about your dad, about how we were planning to run away after graduation. They didn't give me a choice, JJ. It was either Maine or..." 

JJ stares at the water, his whole body vibrating with tension as he processes your words. The firelight catches the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, but he blinks them away furiously. His injured hand flexes in the sand, leaving small indentations that quickly fill with darkness.

"You were gonna..." he starts, his voice hoarse. "You were trying to protect me?" A bitter laugh escapes him. "Fuck, Y/N. I thought... all this time I thought you just couldn't handle my shit anymore. Thought you got tired of dealing with the fucked up pogue kid."

You shift closer, close enough that your shoulders brush. The contact sends electricity through both of you. "I could never get tired of you, JJ," you whisper, your voice catching. "Even in Maine, even when they had me so medicated I could barely remember my own name... I never stopped..."

"Don't," he cuts you off roughly, but he doesn't move away. "You can't just come back here and tell me all this shit. You can't just..." he runs his hand through his hair again, agitation clear in every movement. "Fuck, do you know what it did to me? Finding your room empty that morning? Your mom wouldn't tell me anything, just kept saying you were 'getting help' like you were some kind of..." he can't finish the sentence.

"I tried to call," you admit quietly. "That first month, I called your number every day until they took my phone. Left so many voicemails I filled up your inbox." You touch the shell necklace again, a habit he's starting to recognize as nervous comfort. "Did you... did you ever listen to them?"

"Every fucking one. Over and over until the system deleted them." He finally turns to look at you fully, his eyes intense in the firelight. "I still have that old phone. Can't bring myself to throw it away because it's got your last message saved."

The confession hangs between you, heavy with meaning. Behind you, the party continues, but you might as well be alone on the beach. The waves crash steadily, a rhythm you both know by heart from countless night sessions together.

"I kept every letter," You say softly. "The ones they wouldn't let me send. There's a whole box of them under my bed. Three years' worth of things I needed to tell you." Your hand moves unconsciously toward his in the sand, stopping just short of touching.

JJ stares at the ocean for a long moment, processing everything. The firelight dances across his features as he finally turns back to you, his expression raw and vulnerable in a way you haven’t seen since that last night three years ago.

"Every time something good happened, or something shit happened, or just... anything happened, my first thought was always 'I gotta tell Y/N.' Then I'd remember you weren't there anymore." He lets out a shaky breath. "Took me almost a year to stop turning to tell you stuff."

Your hand finally bridges the gap between them, your fingers brushing against his in the sand. Neither of you pulls away. "I did the same thing," you admit. "In group therapy, they'd ask who we missed most from home. I'd always say my parents, but..." You touch the shell necklace with your free hand. "It was always you, JJ. Every single time."

JJ's thumb unconsciously strokes across your knuckles, a gesture so familiar it makes your heartache. "I can't..." He starts, his voice catching. "I can't go through losing you again, Y/N. I barely survived it the first time." The admission costs him, you can see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers tighten slightly against yours.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whisper, the words carrying on the ocean breeze. "Not this time. Not ever again." You turn your hand in the sand, properly lacing your fingers together. "I'm done running, JJ. From you, from us, from everything."

The silence that follows is heavy with possibility. Behind you, someone calls your names - probably Pope or Sarah looking for you - but neither moves. "We can't just pick up where we left off," JJ finally says, but he doesn't let go of your hand. "Too much has happened. We're different people now."

You nod, understanding in your eyes. "I know. But maybe..." you squeeze his hand gently. "Maybe we can start something new. Something better."

JJ looks at your intertwined hands, then back at your face - at the girl who's haunted his dreams for three years, who's sitting here now in the firelight wearing his necklace and holding his hand like you never left. "Yeah," he says softly, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through. "Maybe we can."

The party continues behind you, but you stay there on the beach, hands linked, watching the waves and starting the long process of healing what was broken. It's not perfect, and it's not fixed, but it's a beginning. And sometimes, that's enough.

The moonlight streams through your bedroom window as you and JJ slip inside, your footsteps quiet on the hardwood floors. Your room looks different than JJ remembers - new paint, new decorations, but somehow still unmistakably you. The fairy lights strung across the ceiling cast a soft glow over everything, creating shadows that dance across the walls.

JJ hovers near the door, hands shoved in his pockets as he watches you drop to your knees beside the bed. The fabric of your dress ghosting around your legs as you reach under the bed frame. His shell necklace catches the light as you move, making his chest tight with memories.

"It's here somewhere," You mutter, pushing aside boxes and old notebooks. "I kept everything organized when I moved back, but..." you trail off, stretching further under the bed. 

JJ forces himself to look away, focusing instead on the photos newly tacked to your wall. Most are recent - your time in Maine, new friends, new places. But there, in the corner, partially hidden behind others, he spots one that makes his breath catch. It's you two, three years ago, on the beach after a night session. His arm is around your shoulders, both of you grinning at the camera, saltwater still dripping from your hair.

"Found it!" Your voice pulls him back to the present. You emerge from under the bed with a large shoebox, worn at the edges and covered in doodles. Your hands shake slightly as you set it on the bed, looking up at JJ with uncertainty in your eyes.

"That's... all of them?" JJ asks, his voice rougher than intended. He takes a step closer, drawn by the box like a magnet. Three years of words you couldn't say, couldn't send, all contained in one shoebox.

You nod, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside the box. "Every letter I wrote. Every time I missed you, every time something reminded me of you, every time I..." you trail off, fingers tracing the edge of the box. "Every time I needed you to know I still loved you."

The admission hangs in the air between you, heavy with possibility. JJ moves closer, perching on the edge of the bed, careful to maintain some distance. The fairy lights cast soft shadows across your face as you open the box, revealing stacks of envelopes, some crisp and new, others worn from being handled repeatedly.

"You don't have to read them now," you say quickly, noticing how JJ's hands have started to shake. "I just... I needed you to know they existed. That I never stopped trying to reach you, even when I couldn't actually send them."

The tension breaks as he lets out a snort of laughter, picking up one of the envelopes. "Your handwriting still looks like shit, Y/N," he teases, falling easily back into your old dynamic. "Seriously, did they not teach penmanship in Maine?"

You gasp in mock offense, snatching the letter from his hands. "Excuse you, this is art." You fought back a smile though, relief evident in your features at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Not all of us can have perfect surfer boy handwriting."

"Perfect?" JJ grins, reaching for another letter. "Have you seen my grocery lists? Even Pope can't read them." He settles more comfortably on the bed, his earlier hesitation melting away. "Oh shit, this one's got little hearts drawn all over it. Fucking sap."

"Shut up," You laugh, shoving his shoulder playfully. "I was heavily medicated and missing your stupid face." You pull out another letter, this one covered in doodles of waves and surfboards. "Oh god, my therapy art phase. We don't talk about this one."

JJ snatches it before you can hide it, his eyes scanning the page with growing amusement. "Holy fuck, is that supposed to be me?" He points to a stick figure with spiky hair riding a wave. "My hair does not look like that!"

"It absolutely does when you first wake up," you argue, reaching for the letter. JJ holds it above his head, laughing as you try to grab it. "JJ Maybank, give that back!"

"Make me," he challenges, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. It feels like old times - him in your room, playfully arguing about nothing important, the weight of your earlier conversation temporarily lifted.

You lunge for the letter, causing you both to tumble backward onto your bed, letters scattering around you. JJ's still holding the drawing above his head, grinning as you try to reach it. "You're such an ass," you complain, but you're laughing too.

"Yeah, but you missed this ass," he quips, then freezes slightly, worried he's pushed too far. But You just roll your eyes, finally managing to snatch the letter back.

"Unfortunately," you sigh dramatically, settling beside him among the scattered letters. "Though I'm starting to question my judgment."

JJ clutches his chest in mock hurt. "Wow, three years and you're already tired of me? That's cold, Y/N. Ice cold." He picks up another letter, this one dated from about a year ago. "Oh look, more hearts. And are those little JJs surfing?"

"I'm going to murder you," you threaten, but there's no heat in it. You're watching him with soft eyes, taking in how the fairy lights cast shadows across his face, how his smile reaches his eyes for the first time since you’ve been back.

"Nah, you love me too much," he says automatically, then stills as he realizes what he's said. The playful atmosphere wavers for a moment, the weight of your history threatening to crash back in.

But you just smile, reaching out to fix his messy hair. "Yeah," you say softly. "I do."

The admission is simple, honest, lacking the heavy emotion of your beach conversation. JJ looks at you, really looks at you, surrounded by three years worth of letters you wrote to him, wearing his necklace, smiling at him like nothing's changed and everything's changed all at once.

"Well, shit," he says finally, a grin tugging at his lips. "That's convenient. 'Cause I might still love you too."

The moment stretches between you, charged with three years of unspoken feelings until JJ finally closes the distance. His lips meet yours softly at first, hesitant, like he's afraid you might disappear if he pushes too hard. His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your cheekbone as letters crinkle beneath you.

You respond immediately, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer. The kiss deepens, three years of longing and regret and love pouring into it. JJ tastes like ocean and bonfire smoke, exactly how you remember.

"Fuck," JJ breathes against your lips, pulling back slightly. His blue eyes are dark with emotion as he looks at you, his thumb still tracing patterns on your skin. "I've missed this. Missed you." His voice is rough, and vulnerable in a way he rarely allows himself to be.

You smile, tugging gently at his hair. "Yeah?" You tease, though your voice trembles slightly. "Even with my shit handwriting?"

JJ laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest where it's pressed against yours. "Especially with your shit handwriting," he murmurs, before capturing your lips again. This kiss is different - deeper, more urgent. His hand slides from your face to your neck, fingers brushing against the shell necklace.

You shift on the bed, letters scattering to the floor forgotten as you pull JJ closer. His weight settles over you naturally, like you never spent time apart. The fairy lights cast a soft glow over them, creating shadows that dance across your skin.

"Is this okay?" JJ asks between kisses, his forehead resting against yours. Despite his usual confidence, there's uncertainty in his voice. "We don't have to..."

You cut him off with another kiss, your hands sliding under his t-shirt to trace the familiar planes of his back. "JJ," you whisper against his lips. "Shut up."

He grins against your mouth, some of his usual cockiness returning. "Make me," he challenges, echoing your earlier playful banter. But there's heat in his voice now, promise in the way his fingers trail down your sides tracing the curve of your waist through the thin fabric of your white dress. His touch is familiar and electric, leaving trails of heat in its wake. The fairy lights cast a soft glow over them as he captures your lips again, deeper this time, more urgent.

"Fuck, Y/N," he breathes against your mouth, his voice rough with want. His fingers find the hem of your dress, playing with the fabric as he kisses down your neck. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

"Don't you dare," you whisper, tugging at his hair the way you know he likes, The action draws a low groan from him, his hips pressing instinctively against yours. JJ pulls back slightly, his blue eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you. The shell necklace gleams against your skin, making his chest tight with emotion. He leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, following the path of the necklace.

"You're wearing too many clothes," he murmurs against your skin, his hands sliding higher under your dress. His touch is reverent, relearning every curve and dip of your body. When his fingers brush against the lace of your underwear, you both inhale sharply.

You tug at his shirt impatiently. "So are you," you breathe, helping him pull it over his head your hands immediately explore his chest. "God, I've missed touching you."

JJ's response is to kiss you again, hard and deep, as his hands work to dress up your body. "Lift up," he instructs softly, and you arch your back so he can pull the fabric over your head. The sight of you in just your underwear, his necklace resting between your breasts, makes him pause.

"What?" You ask, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. But JJ just shakes his head, leaning down to press kisses across your chest.

"Just..." he murmurs between kisses, "trying to memorize everything." His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through your bra. "In case this is a dream."

You reach up to touch JJ's face tenderly, your thumb tracing his bottom lip. "Not a dream," you whisper, pulling him down for another deep kiss. Your legs wrap around his waist, drawing him closer as his hands explore your body with increasing urgency.

JJ's fingers trace the edge of your bra, his touch teasing yet reverent. "Can I...?" he asks against your lips, and you nod, arching your back so he can reach the clasp. His hands are slightly shaky as he unhooks it like he still can't quite believe this is real.

"Fuck," he breathes as the garment falls away, revealing your breasts. The shell necklace rests between them, catching the fairy lights. JJ leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses across your chest. His tongue traces patterns on your skin, remembering exactly how to make you gasp.

Your hands tangle in his hair as he takes a nipple into his mouth, your back arching off the bed. "JJ," you moan softly, mindful of the quiet house. His free hand palms your other breast, thumb circling the sensitive peak until you're squirming beneath him.

"Missed these sounds," JJ murmurs against your skin, switching his attention to your other breast. "Missed making you fall apart." His hand slides down your stomach, fingers playing with the waistband of your underwear. "Can still remember every spot that makes you shake."

To prove his point, he kisses down your ribs to that sensitive spot just below your left breast - the one that always makes you gasp. Sure enough, your breath hitches, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Still so responsive," he grins against your skin, nipping gently.

"Shut up," you breathe, but there's no heat in it. Your hands slide down his back, nails dragging lightly across his skin in the way you know drives him crazy. JJ groans, his hips pressing against yours instinctively.

"Make me," he challenges, echoing your earlier banter as he kisses lower, across your stomach. His fingers hook into your underwear, but he pauses, looking up at you with dark eyes. "Tell me you want this, Y/N/N. Tell me you want me."

You prop yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him with eyes full of love and desire. The fairy lights cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity of his gaze. "I want you, JJ," you whisper. "Always have, always will."

When you reach the waistband of his shorts, he groans softly against your neck. "Can I?" You ask, fingers playing with the button of his shorts. JJ nods against your skin, his breath hot on your neck as you work the button free. The sound of his zipper seems loud in the quiet room.

JJ helps you slide his shorts down his legs, his breath catching as your fingers trace the waistband of his boxers. The fairy lights cast a soft glow over his skin, highlighting the muscles that flex under your touch. "Fuck, Y/N," he breathes as your hand palms him through the thin fabric. His hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction. "You're gonna kill me."

You smirk up at him, enjoying the way his breath hitches as you hook your fingers in his boxers. "That's the plan," you tease, slowly pulling the fabric down. JJ kicks them off impatiently, leaving him completely bare above you.

His hands slide up your thighs, fingers playing with the edge of your underwear. "These need to go," he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your hip bone. "Want to taste you again."

You lift your hips, letting him slide the lace down your legs. The shell necklace gleams against your skin as you move, drawing JJ's attention. He leans down, pressing kisses along the chain until he reaches the shell pendant resting between your breasts.

"Still can't believe you kept it," he whispers against your skin, his hands exploring your now-bare body with increasing urgency. "Kept wearing it all this time."

"Never took it off," you breathe, arching into his touch as his fingers trace patterns on your inner thighs. "It was like keeping a piece of you with me."

JJ groans at your words, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. His hand slides higher, fingers teasing where you want him most. "Tell me what you need," he murmurs against your mouth. "Want to make you feel good."

Your response is cut off by a gasp as his fingers find where you need him. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, "You," you manage to say. "Just you, JJ. Always you."

JJ's fingers trace slow, teasing circles against your sensitive flesh, watching with dark eyes as you arch beneath his touch. His other hand explores your body with reverent familiarity, relearning every curve and dip that he's missed for three long years. The fairy lights cast shifting shadows across your bare skin as you move together on your bed. "Fuck, you're so wet already," JJ breathes against your neck, his voice rough with desire. His fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance as his thumb continues its maddening circles. "Always so responsive for me, Y/N."

JJ can't resist leaning down to trace the chain of the necklace with his tongue, following its path down to where it rests against your sternum. "Please," you gasp as he slides one finger inside you, your legs spreading wider to accommodate him. "JJ, I need..."

"Tell me," he murmurs against your skin, adding a second finger and curling them just right. "Want to hear you say it, baby. Tell me what you need." Your response is cut off by a moan as his thumb presses harder, his fingers finding that spot inside you that makes you see stars. JJ watches your face intently, memorizing every expression of pleasure that crosses your features. His cock throbs insistently against your thigh, but he ignores it, focused entirely on making you fall apart.

"You," you finally manage, your voice breathy and desperate. "Need you inside me, JJ. Please."

JJ groans at your words, his control wavering. But he forces himself to maintain his slow pace, wanting to draw this out, to make it last. His fingers continue their steady rhythm as he kisses down your body, paying special attention to each sensitive spot he remembers.

"Not yet," he whispers against your hip bone, nipping gently at the skin there. "Want to taste you first. Been dreaming about this for three years, Y/N. Gonna take my time."

JJ settles between your thighs, his hot breath teasing your sensitive flesh as he presses open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs. His fingers maintain their steady rhythm inside you, curling just right. "Missed how you taste," he murmurs against your thigh, nipping gently at the sensitive skin. "Missed making you fall apart like this." His free hand slides up your body to palm your breast, thumb circling your nipple as he finally presses his tongue against your clit.

Your back arches off the bed, one hand tangling in his salt-stiffened hair while the other grips your sheets. The shell necklace catches the light as you move, a constant reminder of your shared history. "JJ," you gasp, trying to keep your voice down despite the pleasure coursing through you.

JJ hums against you, the vibration making your thighs tremble. His tongue traces patterns around your clit as his fingers continue their steady thrusting, finding that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars. He watches your face intently, memorizing every expression of pleasure that crosses your features.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, pulling back slightly to blow cool air against your heated flesh. "Want to see you come apart for me. Been too fucking long." His words are punctuated by another curl of his fingers, another swipe of his tongue.

Your hips buck against his face as he sucks your clit into his mouth, your breathing becoming more ragged. JJ's free hand slides down to hold your hips steady, his grip firm but gentle. "Close," you manage to gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair. "JJ, I'm so close..."

JJ doubles his efforts, his tongue moving faster as his fingers maintain their perfect rhythm. He can feel your walls beginning to flutter around his fingers and can taste how close you are. "Come for me, Y/N, Want to feel you fall apart on my tongue."

The combination of his words, his fingers, and his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. Tour back arches sharply, your thighs trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you. JJ works you through it, his movements becoming gentler as you come down from your high.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are glistening and his eyes are dark with desire. He presses soft kisses up your body as you catch your breath, paying special attention to the shell necklace that rests between your breasts. His cock presses insistently against your thigh, but he makes no move to rush things.

"Beautiful," he murmurs against your neck, nipping gently at your pulse point. "Fucking beautiful, Y/N. Missed watching you come undone like that."

Your hands slide down his back, nails dragging lightly across his skin in a way that makes him shiver. "Need you," you whisper, pulling him up for a deep kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, making you moan softly. "Please, JJ. Need you inside me."

JJ positions himself between your thighs, his cock pressing teasingly against your entrance. The fairy lights cast shadows across your sweat-slicked bodies as he captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "Need you to be sure," he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire and emotion. "Tell me this is what you want, Y/N." His cock slides against your wetness, making you both gasp at the sensation. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I'm sure, JJ," you breathe, your hands sliding up his back to tangle in his hair. "Been sure since the day I left. Want you, need you, love you."

JJ groans at your words, capturing your lips again as he slowly pushes inside you. You both freeze at the sensation, overwhelmed by the feeling of being connected again after so long. "Fuck," he breathes against your neck, his arms trembling as he holds himself still. "You feel fucking perfect, baby."

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you adjust to his size, your breath coming in short gasps. The fairy lights dance across your skin as you start to move together, finding your rhythm like you’ve never spent a day apart. JJ's movements are slow, and deliberate, wanting to savor every moment.

"Missed this," he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck. "Missed you, missed us." His words are punctuated by slow, deep thrusts that make you gasp and arch beneath him. One hand slides down to grip your hip, angling you just right.

The shell necklace moves with each thrust, catching the light and drawing JJ's attention. He leans down to trace it with his tongue, following its path between your breasts. The action makes you moan softly, your walls clenching around him.

"JJ," you gasp as he hits that perfect spot inside you. "Please, need more." Your hands slide down his back, nails leaving light scratches that make him groan and thrust harder.

He continues his slow, deliberate pace, savoring every gasp and moan that escapes your lips. His hands explore your body with increasing urgency, one sliding down to grip your thigh as he adjusts the angle of his thrusts. "Fuck," he groans against your neck, nipping gently at your pulse point. "Feel so good around me, so fucking perfect." His words are punctuated by deep, measured thrusts that make your walls clench around him. The shell necklace gleams between your breasts, moving with each roll of his hips.

Your hands slide up his back, nails leaving light scratches that make him shudder. "Please, JJ," you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist. "Need more, need you harder." Your voice is breathy, and desperate, making his control waver.

But JJ maintains his torturously slow pace, wanting to draw out every moment. His free hand slides between them to circle your clit, making your back arch sharply off the bed. "Not yet, baby," he murmurs, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. "Want to feel every inch of you, want to make this last."

JJ's thumb continues its maddening circles on your clit as he thrusts deeper, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "JJ," You moan, your walls fluttering around him as you get closer to the edge. "I'm close, so close..." 

His thrusts become slightly harder, and deeper, but still maintain that measured pace that's driving you both crazy. JJ's free hand slides up to palm your breast, thumb circling your nipple as he continues to work you higher. The combination of sensations has you gasping his name, your body trembling beneath him.

JJ grins against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. "Want to try something?" he asks, his voice rough with desire. Without waiting for an answer, he suddenly rolls you over, keeping himself buried deep inside you as you end up straddling his lap.

"Fuck," You gasp at the new angle, your hands braced against his chest as you adjust. The shell necklace swings between you, catching the fairy lights as you move. JJ's hands slide up your thighs, gripping your hips as he guides you into a slow rhythm.

"That's it, baby," he groans, watching as you start to move above him. Your breasts bounce slightly with each movement, making his mouth water. "Ride my cock just like that." His hands explore your body freely from this new position, one sliding up to palm your breast while the other keeps a steady grip on your hip.

You set a torturously slow pace, rolling your hips in a way that has JJ cursing under his breath. Your walls clench around him with each movement, drawing low groans from deep in his chest. "Missed watching you like this," JJ breathes, his hands roaming your body possessively. He sits up slightly, capturing a nipple in his mouth as you continue to ride him. 

His hands guide your movements, helping you maintain that slow, deep pace that's driving you both crazy.

"JJ," You moan as he hits that perfect spot inside you. Your nails drag down his chest, leaving light scratches that make him buck up into you harder. 

JJ's control starts to slip as he watches you move above him, your head thrown back in pleasure. "Fuck, Y/N," he groans, his hands tightening on your hips. "You look so fucking good riding my cock like this."

He watches in awe as you continue to ride him, your movements becoming more confident with each roll of your hips. His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts as you move above him. "Fuck, just like that," he groans, bucking up to meet your movements. His hands grip your hips tighter, guiding you into a rhythm that has you both gasping. 

You brace your hands on his chest, using the leverage to grind down harder. Your walls clench around him with each movement, drawing curses from his lips. "JJ," you moan, your head falling back as he hits that perfect spot inside you. "So deep like this..."

JJ works faster on your clit as he continues to thrust up into you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. You gasp, and your movements become more desperate. He suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper at the loss. His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he tries to regain some control, his cock throbbing painfully between you. 

"Need to slow down," he groans against your lips, his hands sliding up your sides. "Don't want this to end yet." His fingers trace patterns on your skin as you straddle his thighs. Your hands slide down his chest, nails dragging lightly across his skin in a way that makes him shiver. "JJ," you whimper, trying to move closer. Your pussy is dripping wet, clenching around nothing as you seek friction.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," his fingers slid between your legs to tease your entrance. He watches as you gasp and arches into his touch, your walls fluttering around his fingers. "Could stay here all night, just watching you fall apart."

You rock against his hand, seeking more friction. JJ's free hand slides up to palm your breast, thumb circling your nipple as he continues to tease you with shallow thrusts of his fingers. "Please," you moan, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. "Need you back inside me, JJ. Been too long without you."

You shift in JJ's lap, deliberately grinding against his thigh. The friction makes you gasp, your wetness coating his skin as you rock your hips. His hands gripping your hips to guide your movements. "Fuck, Y/N," he groans, feeling your pussy slide against his thigh. "You're so fucking wet." His fingers dig into your flesh, leaving marks that will be visible tomorrow. 

Your hands brace against his chest for leverage as you grind harder, chasing the friction you need. The shell necklace swings between you with each movement, occasionally brushing against his heated skin. "JJ," you moan, your head falling back as pleasure builds.

JJ's free hand slides between them, thumb finding your clit as you continue to grind against him. "Please, more, need you inside me again." Your words are punctuated by the roll of your hips, your pussy sliding against his thigh with increasing urgency.

His thumb works faster on your clit as you ride his thigh, drawing you closer to release. "Come like this first," he commands roughly. You continue grinding against JJ's thigh, your movements becoming more desperate as pleasure builds. Your wetness coats his skin, making each slide of your pussy against him smoother, more intense. JJ's hands grip your hips tighter, guiding your movements as he watches you chase your release. 

"Want to feel you soak my thigh before I fuck you properly." JJ’s words, combined with the pressure on your clit and the friction against his thigh, finally push you over the edge. Your body trembles as waves of pleasure crash over you, your pussy pulsing against JJ's thigh as you come. Your wetness coats his skin, making everything slick and hot between you. 

"Fuck, that's it," His cock throbs painfully between you, demanding attention. "So fucking beautiful when you come." His thumb continues to circle your clit, drawing out your pleasure until your gasping and squirming.

Without warning, JJ flips them over, pinning you beneath him on the bed. His cock slides through your wetness, teasing your sensitive flesh. "Need to be inside you again," he groans, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "Been too fucking long without this."

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Please, JJ," you whimper, still sensitive from your orgasm. Your walls clench around nothing, seeking the fullness of his cock. "Need you inside me."

JJ lines himself up with your entrance, watching your face as he slowly pushes back inside. You both groan at the sensation, your walls stretching to accommodate him again.  "Fuck, still so tight," JJ breathes, setting a slow, deep pace. His hands explore your body possessively as he thrusts into you, memorizing every curve and dip. "Feel so good."

Your hands slide up his back, nails leaving light scratches that make him shudder. Your pussy pulses around him with each thrust, drawing low groans from deep in his chest. JJ maintains his deep, steady rhythm as he thrusts into you, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force. "I’m close," you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support. "So close, JJ. Please don't stop."

His hand slides between them to circle your clit as he maintains his punishing pace. "Come for me again," he commands. His thrusts become more erratic as he feels his release approaching, his grip on your hips tightening with bruising force. The fairy lights cast dancing shadows across their sweat-slicked bodies as they move together with increasing urgency. Without warning, he suddenly pulls out, his cock throbbing painfully between you.

"Fuck," he groans, his hand wrapping around his length as he strokes himself. "Where do you want it, baby?" His eyes are dark with desire as he watches you beneath him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths.

Your hands slide up his chest, nails dragging lightly across his skin. "On me," you gasp, still trembling from your release. 

JJ's control finally snaps at your words. With a low groan, he comes hard, painting thick stripes across your stomach and breasts. The shell necklace gleams in the fairy lights, covered in drops of his release.

You collapse together on the bed, breathing heavily as you come down from your high. JJ reaches for his discarded t-shirt, gently cleaning his release from your skin. "Stay," you whisper, curling into his side. Your fingers trace patterns on his chest as your breathing slowly returns to normal. "Please stay this time."

JJ pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Not going anywhere," he murmurs against your skin. "Never again." The fairy lights continue to cast their soft glow over the room as you drift off to sleep, tangled together like they never spent a day apart.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand, the screen illuminating the dim room with a soft blue glow. He groans softly, careful not to wake you who's curled against his chest, your breathing deep and even. 

The group chat notification shows several messages from John B and Pope:

John B: yo where tf did you and y/n disappear to??? 👀

Pope: they definitely left together bro

John B: fucking FINALLY

Pope: 20 bucks says they're at her place

John B: nah man, bet they're at the chateau

JJ can't help but grin at his friends' messages, his free hand absently playing with your hair as you sleep.

His phone buzzes again:

John B: JJ we know you're reading these messages asshole

Pope: let him live, he's probably busy 😏

John B: BUSY WITH WHAT POPE??? 🤔😂

JJ rolls his eyes, typing out a quick response with one hand:

"fuck off both of you”

The response is immediate:

John B: HE LIVES!!!

Pope: told you they were together

John B: you better not fuck this up again maybank

JJ's jaw tenses at John B's last message, his arm tightening slightly around your sleeping form. The fairy lights cast soft shadows across your peaceful face as he looks down at you, remembering everything you’ve been through to get here. The shell necklace rests between you, a constant reminder of your shared past and the promise of your future but for now, in this room with its fairy lights and scattered memories, nothing exists beyond the two of you.

[bigenergy777]

Damn It, Faith

WC: 981

Warnings: smut, getting caught, unedited, f!reader, use of Y/N, I don't think anything else

18+ MDNI

Her ankles were on his shoulders, his fingers, which were buried in her hair, tugged and forced her neck to arch back as his teeth nipped the sensitive skin there in synchronicity with each slam of his hips. She gasped over and over, each thrust causing the plump head of his cock to hit the sweet spot hidden in her walls and each nip adding just the right amount of pain to the ecstasy. 

He grunted with one particularly sharp thrust forward and she could feel his lips curl into a smug smirk when she made a noise very similar to his own, deep and low. She attempted to scowl at his smugness but another sharp thrust right into the spongy spot that had been so difficult for everyone but Will to find had her instead dropping her jaw open in pleasure. 

They were both so immersed, so lost in the pleasure of each other, that they failed to notice the sound of someone knocking on their front door, or the stack of missed calls lighting up the screen of Will’s phone. 

Both Will and Y/N were of a hypervigilant nature so it was rare for them to be so unaware, so lost in themselves that they forget the trauma and ghosts that haunted them and left them on edge at all times. In fact, the only time they found themselves not alert was when they were lost in each other. It was usually a good thing— a peace found that was usually out of reach, but today it would bite them in the ass. 

He grinned at her in a feral manner that rarely graced the face of gentlemanly Will Trent, one never seen and seemingly out of character for a man who carries a handkerchief— unless you were Y/N of course. It was a smile Y/N got to see regularly, one she held close to her heart and made her stomach clench. 

He moaned, pressing their foreheads together. “You’re doin’ so good for me, pretty girl.”

Y/N tried to reply but her brain was mush and tongue was numb so all she could do was let out a high pitched whine in reply, her eyes pinched tight. 

“Feel good, honey?” 

She nodded eagerly, forehead rubbing against his own and her eyes pinched tight as equally eager little noises escaped her with each powerful slap of his hips meeting her’s. 

“HOLY SHIT, WILL.” Faith’s loud, uncharacteristic screech was a shock to say the least, taking a moment to register in the couple’s minds. 

When it finally did, Y/N’s own horrified screech put Faith’s to shame as she yanked Will down on top of her with a force that made him grunt, the woman using his bare form as a modesty shield for her own. 

Faith was turned around in the doorway, back to them and heels of her hands pressed firmly against her eyes. 

“Damn it, Faith.” Will snapped out, accent thick with anger. He was breathing heavily and leaning on his forearms on either side of Y/N’s head, her entire face bright red and covered by her hands. “What the hell are you doin’ here?!” 

“We have a case, Trent.” She snapped back just as testily. Her and Will were as similar as they were different, and embarrassment manifested as anger in both the partners as was obvious in the way they were now scowling fiercely at each other.  Faith was seemingly no longer embarrassed by the… situation… she’d found the couple in. The blush had faded from her cheeks and she was no longer avoiding eye contact, arms crossed and face twisted in annoyance rather than discomfort.

“So you broke into my house?” He spit out, his heavy breathing and flushed face now due solely to anger rather than exertion. 

“I called you like 27 times, Will! And knocked on your door twice! I got concerned.” She huffed, rolling her eyes before her expression shifted to a kinder one as her eyes met Y/N’s from where she was peeking out over one of Will’s biceps. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“’S okay,” Y/N squeaked out before burrowing back into Will’s chest, face still a bright crimson. 

While Y/N might have pardoned Faith, Will Trent had most certainly not. He was too private of a person, and this violation felt too strong.

“Get the fuck out, Mitchell.” 

“Will!” Y/N admonished from her buried place of shame, but he didn’t reply. 

Faith rolled her eyes, used to his temper everytime she got a little closer to him, and simply huffed before leaving the bedroom, tossing a “We leave in ten minutes, Trent!” over her shoulder as she went. 

He growled lowly under his breath at her back before turning to duck down and place his forehead against Y/N’s once more. “You alright, sweet girl?” 

She nodded in reply, too horrified to even form a sensical sentence as her mind replayed the moment her Faith fucking Mitchell had seen Will balls deep inside her on an endless loop. She was going to have nightmares about this day… at least it wasn’t Amanda Wagnar. 

He huffed again, pulling back to press a kiss to her forehead as he finally pulled out from inside her. 

Oh god. He’d been inside her while talking to Mitchell. His ass had been out throughout that whole conversation. 

“I can never face Faith ever again.” 

He chuckled as he stood up and grabbed his suit for the day and began pulling his trousers on. “She’s the one who broke into our house… and then our bedroom,” he snapped out in an odd blend of humor and anger.

“Kill me now.” Y/N groaned as she rolled over, burying her face into a pillow hoping to smother herself and never have to face the light of day again.

[bigenergy777]

A Little Less Worse: Part 3

Henry Bowers x Reader

Part 1 // Part 2

“You goin’ to Henry’s house again or you want me to drop you off at home?” Belch’s voice snuck into your thoughts, pulling your focus away from the moving scenery out the car’s window and back into reality.

“She’s comin’ with me,” you could hear Henry answer for you from where you sat in the backseat. These study dates between you and that mullet headed fuck bag you so loved to hate had been becoming a regular part of your days and you weren’t quite sure how you felt about it just yet. 

“Thanks, Reggie,” you called from behind, offering him a small smile as he glanced at you through the rearview mirror. You turned your focus back out the window, wanting to return your attention back towards all the trees being passed by, each displaying different shades of red, yellow, and orange. You smiled to yourself, the changing leaves making you think of those hand print turkeys and trees you’d make every fall in elementary school. A few moments of bliss passed and your smile faltered slightly, now thinking of what you had to do this fall being a high school student. Instead of finger painting with creamy hues of all colors associated with autumn, you got mid-terms. As bad as they were, at least you got some free entertainment studying with Henry.

“What’cha thinkin’ about over there, huh?” Your thoughts were interrupted yet again, this time by a crude pinch to your upper thigh that Patrick had reached over a poor, grimacing Victor to get, “About how you wish you were goin’ home with me instead of studying with lover-boy up there, I bet,” he flashed you a grin that sent shivers down your spine as you slapped his hand away.

“Don’t make me turn around, Hockstetter,” Henry’s voice was threatening as he watched the scene unfold through the rear and side view mirrors, “I put Victor in the middle of you two for a reason.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, by the way,” Victor scoffed, crossing his arms in a pout, “Feelin’ real special over here.” You couldn’t help but laugh at how childish Victor could get sometimes, his constant seeking of Henry’s approval couldn’t be more obvious.

“Awh, Vicky, don’t be like that,” you cooed, poking one of his cheeks as you leaned against him affectionately, “You’re special to me, y’know.” You loved teasing Victor because of how flustered he would always get, not wanting to upset Henry by making a wrong move on you.

“You got a funny way of showing it, girlie,” Victor gave your cheek a poke in return before giving you a soft nudge, desperately hoping you’d get off him before Henry saw.

You were about to counter his remark, but your excitement of seeing Henry’s driveway come into view quickly replaced all other threads of thought. You settled on giving him a quick poke to his side before hopping out of the car, ignoring whatever remarks Patrick had to offer as you shut the car door.

“Ready to ‘study’?” Henry wiggled his eyebrows as he too got out of the car, taking your hand in his on your way up to his house, “Cause I’ve been waiting all day to get a peek up that skirt,” he said, playfully lifting the hem of the fabric up your thigh with his pointer finger.

“Save it for the books, Bowers, we have a mid-term tomorrow,” you pushed his hand down lightly, shaking your head as you gave him a taunting smile.

“You fuckin’ suck,” he breathed out in defeat, a small smile present on his lips as he glanced down at you.

“I might,” you said in a singsong voice as you reached for the doorknob, “If you get your studying done,” you finished with a smirk, an expression you’d been using a lot since you’d been seeing Henry. You could see his own smirk begin to form, but as soon as you pulled the door open, his face fell instantly. You furrowed your brows in confusion, not being able to read his expression. You’d never seen him without some kind of smirk or scowl adorned on his face until this moment and, whether you’d care to admit or not, it concerned you. You followed his gaze into the living room where you found a grumpy looking man in a police uniform looking right back at the two of you.

“Hello, sir,” Henry said flatly, avoiding his gaze, “We’re just going to study.” You felt Henry’s hand slip from your grasp as the man stood up, taking loud steps towards Henry.

“Who’s this.”

Although it was supposed to be a question, it sounded more like an order.

“(y/n),” Henry’s voice held absolutely no emotion when speaking to this man, “She helps me with my homework, sir.”

You suddenly felt tense as Henry’s eyes remained glued to the floor while the older man’s eyes were looking you up and down. He gave a grunt in reply, eyes now focused on your face.

“I-It’s nice to meet you,” you said nervously, holding an unsteady hand out for him to shake, “Sir,” you finished, voice involuntarily uneasy.

“I’m Henry’s father,” you noticed Henry tense up as the man grabbed your hand, gripping it a bit longer than he was comfortable with, “If he makes you uncomfortable, you come find me,” he gave your hand an unnerving squeeze before letting go.

“Thank you, s-sir,” you weren’t exactly sure how to reply, but this seemed sufficient enough, as you earned a nod from Henry’s dad before he went back to his previous spot on the couch. As soon as he sat down, you felt Henry grab your hand again, pulling you quickly in the direction of his bedroom. He nearly shoved you inside, closing the door as quietly as he could the second both of you were in.

“You daddy’s lil’ boy or someth-“ you tried to lighten the mood with your usual banter, but his hand reached up to cover your mouth before you could finish.

“Shut up,” he whispered, putting an ear to his door to make sure his dad hadn’t heard you, “He never comes home to take his breaks,” he complained to himself, still whispering, “We just have to wait him out.”

You just nodded, compliantly obeying his order as you took your usual seat at the foot of his bed. As much as you wanted to give him shit about this, you couldn’t shake this odd feeling you had picked up from the atmosphere. You expected him to come sit next to you, as he usually did, and whisper dirty things in your ear or give your neck distracting kisses, but today was different. Everything about today was different.

Instead, he sat down at his desk and immediately got to work. You decided to open your textbook as well, assuming he needed some time to decompress from that stressful encounter. You tried as hard as you could to focus on your studies, but you constantly had to chase your thoughts away from Henry and slouch over to avoid checking on him every few minutes. You were almost irritated with yourself at this point. Henry was a smooth-talking son of a bitch who constantly made you want to rip your own ears off, but now, all you wanted to do was give the fucker a hug and a shoulder rub.

You allowed yourself to take one last look, tired of your thoughts nagging you, and smiled slightly, noticing that Henry had eased up a little. You were about to get up and ask if he was alright, but as soon as you got to your feet, hearing his dad shout his name from the living room made you sit right back down again. He got up without hesitation, making his way out of the room and towards his father without so much as a glance toward you. You sat with your eyes mindlessly staring down the hallway outside his door, waiting for him to get back and hoping he was happier when he did. You couldn’t stand seeing him like this.

You let yourself zone out momentarily, only to be brought back by the sound of a car driving off from outside. You turned towards the sound instinctively for a moment, but the only thing you saw were his curtain covered windows. Thinking now would be a good time to go make sure he was okay, you quickly turned towards the door and jumped slightly, not noticing Henry had already returned. His face was still absent of a smirk, but one thing you did notice was a red mark on his cheek and a busted lip.

“He’s gone,” his voice was nearly nonexistent from how quiet he was speaking as he met your gaze. The amount of hurt in his eyes causing your own to tear up.

“Henry, are you okay…” He flinched as you brought your hand up to his cheek, which told you all you needed to know. “What do you need me to do?” You asked softly, rubbing circles into his cheek with your thumb.

He looked into your eyes for a moment, trying his hardest to keep himself steady, but it didn’t last long at all. As soon as you noticed his expression start to change, he draped his arms around you and placed his forehead on your shoulder, trying his best to hide any sort of emotion from you.

“I just need you to be here.” Although his voice was low, it completely ripped apart the newly formed silence. You put your own arms around him now, pulling him closer in attempts to comfort him.

“I’m here, Henry,” you reassured him, stroking his hair as his head rested against your shoulder, ���I’m here.”

You felt him take a few staggered breathes against you before bringing his head up to rest his forehead against yours. You looked into his eyes again, hoping to see improvement, but the hurt was still there. You mentally cursed yourself for how hard you had been on him; calling him names, making fun of him, pushing him around. The guy just wanted someone to pay attention to him. He just wanted someone to be there. Someone to show him any sort of affection.

Well, that’s what he was gonna get.

He watched as you brought your hand back up to his cheek, his breath becoming more uneven as you stood on your tiptoes, planting a soft kiss to his lips, careful not to hurt him further. You pulled away slowly, admiring the change in expression his eyes now held. He bent over slightly, bringing his lips to meet yours this time. Despite the pain he was causing to his freshly busted lip, he kissed you roughly. You pulled away yet again, looking at him with pleading eyes as you began lifting his shirt up.

He looked at you thoughtfully, a shimmer dancing across his eyes as he pulled his shirt the rest of the way off his body before tossing it to the side. His hand made its way to your cheek this time, pulling you in for another kiss as you gently dragged your hands down the soft skin of his chest. This was another rough kiss, but this time there was a certain element of compassion in the mix, almost like he was thanking you. You took this as encouragement, your hands continuing their journey down until they reached the denim fabric of his jeans. He snaked his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, giving him leverage to deepen the kiss further as he felt you go to work, undoing his pants before lightly tugging them down.

You placed a hand on his chest once again, this time giving him a slight push towards the bed. He pulled away with a confused look, but he stopped his protest as he saw the pleading look your eyes were still giving him.

“Lay down,” you whispered, giving a light kiss to his collarbone before he made his way over, doing as you said. You followed him close behind, climbing onto his bed and taking a straddling position over him, “I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Finally came around, huh?” He whispered back, reaching up to pull some of your hair behind your ear. “Should get beat more often,” he attempted to make a joke out of the situation, something he always tried to do, but this one wasn’t working very well.

You weren’t willing to watch his expression start to fall again, so you quickly moved your face down to his, your lips crashing against his again. His hands slid slowly down your body before finally settling on your waist, pressing you against him further as he rolled his hips up. You rolled your hips against his, falling into a smooth rhythm until Henry began to lift your shirt up, causing you to break in order to get it off. The two of you took advantage of that pause to remove the rest of your clothing, both of you breathing heavily as you returned to your previous position.

You placed your hands on each of his shoulders as he placed his on your hips, lowering you down slowly as his length filled you. You tightened your grip on his shoulders, your eyes squeezed shut momentarily as you got used to the feeling of him inside you. Once you’d adjusted, you opened your eyes to see that smirk had finally returned to his lips, which made you feel a certain type of way you had never felt before. You were sure you were smiling like an idiot, but you didn’t care. You loved that smirk.

“Feels that good, huh?” Henry questioned rhetorically, enjoying the expression you were wearing just as much as you were enjoying his, “That’s not even the best part, sweet heart.” His smirk grew wider as he began rolling his hips again, immediately earning a moan from you in return. You started to move your hips along with him, a faster pace than before. You bit your lip as one of his hands found its way to your chest, cupping one of your breasts and rubbing a thumb over your nipple. He sat up slightly, taking the now hardened nipple into his mouth before sucking and nibbling on it sensually as you rode into him harder.

More moans escaped your lips as he moved his mouth further upwards to your collarbone, sucking and nibbling at the skin there as well. He let out a groan against your flushed skin as you moved one of your hands to the back of his neck, pulling his hair as a sign of encouragement. He moved one of his arms to rest on the bed, giving him the leverage he needed to buck his hips upwards, pushing himself into you as hard as he could, going faster each time a moan escaped you.

You leaned down to nuzzle your head into Henry’s shoulder as you felt yourself coming closer to your release. The moans now growing louder as the pleasure built up, you put your mouth to his neck, marking him as you hummed and sucked against the skin. Your final moans were muffled, but Henry was assured of your climax by the pressure you were causing at his neck and the way your hands were roughly gripping his hair and arm. He watched your body move as you rode out your orgasm, the combination of what he was doing to you and what you were doing to his neck sending him into one of his own.

He took a few moments to slow his movements, extending the feeling as long as he could before slowly lay ingback down, embracing you as you fell limp in his arms, both of you breathing sporadically. He combed at your hair to expose the skin of your forehead, which he gave a soft kiss to. You looked up at him with a gentle smile before moving to his side, giving a kiss to his check as he continued to hold you against him.

You looked at each other for a while, happy that despite all the pain this town and its people had caused, the two of you had someone to come back to. You might not have the best lives, but you had each other. There wasn’t much more to it.

You were just a couple of sad kids, making each other’s life in Derry a little less worse.

[bigenergy777]

Teenage Dirtbag XVII

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, mentions of violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, semi public sex,  jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

You hadn’t seen nor talked to JJ in three weeks.

That hadn’t been your goal, having every intention of seeing him again after that day at The Wreck—even if only to officially break it off between you. Things hadn’t worked out that way though and before you knew it, a week went by and then another and another. It was a combination of things really—Rafe being around a lot more above all else—but you also didn’t think you had it in you to look JJ in the eyes and reject him again.

The day at The Wreck had been hard enough, and you’d only succeeded then because you were so overwhelmed by Kie’s words, desperate to get away and think. She hadn’t said anything untrue, anything wrong, and that’s what made her words sting the most. Sure, JJ talked a big game about figuring out a way to safely get you away from Rafe…but in practice…? You’d been with Rafe for over two years and still hadn’t been able to come up with a scenario that wouldn’t come back to bite you.

JJ wanted to save you, and you wanted to let him, but it was unrealistic. The only chance you had would be to move halfway across the world and even then… Rafe could be scarily determined to see something through, and it wasn’t like he lacked the means and resources to simply follow you. He hated to lose.

Sometimes you wondered if JJ really understood just how dangerous Rafe was.

…or if he simply enjoyed sneaking around with his girlfriend more.

Such a thought seemed so unfair to you—especially since there was no doubt in your mind that JJ cared about you—but you’d told him the same thing before all of this even started. You’d had no problem telling him that you dating Rafe Cameron had a hand in his aggressive pursuit of you. You still believed that actually, and it wasn’t like you minded all that much because you were getting something out of this too and JJ was making you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time.

…but Kie was right.

She was so right. You either had to leave Rafe or put an end to your ‘relationship’ with JJ. Anything outside of that wasn’t up for consideration, and between you and JJ, only one of you had what it took to do the right—and smart—thing. So, you hadn’t seen JJ in weeks…and it hurt.

You didn’t know why, but you hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.

This person who had become this cliche bright light in an otherwise dark life was no longer there. You didn’t look forward to the following day anymore nor anticipate hearing from someone who never failed to put a smile on your face. The nights that Rafe spent with his father or at home were no longer filled with a familiar presence to keep you company. When Rafe left the other side of your bed empty…it stayed that way.

…and against your will, you found yourself crying a lot more these days.

“Sweetheart, you really need to get more sleep,” your mother cooed as she gently touched your face. “Everything okay…?”

You nodded at her as you stirred your creamer into your coffee.

“Yeah,” you assured her. “Just having trouble sleeping lately.”

She hummed at that, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m going to give you something for that,” she told you, rubbing your shoulder. “...and something for those bags under your eyes too. It’s making you look ill.”

You didn’t have a response for that other than a soft ‘thanks’. She hummed at you before your father pulled her attention away, both of them getting caught up in a conversation about the broken garbage disposal. Their voices faded to the background as you continued to stir your coffee, even when it had long blended into an even toffee color. You only stopped when your name was called.

Your parents were looking at you expectantly when you glanced up.

“Sorry?”

Your mother chuckled, albeit throwing you an odd look while doing so.

“I said you’ve gotten a dress for Rafe’s party, right? It’s the big twenty-one, and you can’t go wearing something you already have,” she said, sounding like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

You swallowed at the mention of his birthday, unable to forget about its approach even if you wanted to.

“Rafe bought a dress for me months ago.”

Your mother’s smile made your stomach turn.

“Of course, he did,” she commented, gently squeezing your arm. “He’s always so sweet to you.”

You weren’t able to keep looking at her as a fondness settled on her features as she thought about your relationship.

“I’d ask to see it, but I want to be surprised, and plus he never disappoints,” she chuckled. “He always knows just what to pick, and you look so radiant every time.”

Her parting words made you sigh, and for the umpteenth time, you imagined how they’d react if they ever knew the true nature of your relationship with Rafe. They doted on him because he seemingly doted on you. Like any decent parents, they were skeptical of him until he proved himself, and now years later—after he’d long started putting his hands on you—they still thought you two were the best thing to ever happen to each other.

If they knew the truth, you had no doubt it would break their hearts for more reasons than one.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised to see you…”

Sarah’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you were forced to pull your gaze away from the picture they had on the wall. You didn’t doubt that it was some piece Rose had brought into the house.

“It’s Rafe’s birthday, so, of course you’re going to be here, but I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks…”

She hadn’t seen you in weeks, and just like with JJ, it hadn’t been intentional, but you still felt bad. In an effort to distance yourself from the younger blond, you’d pulled away from anything that had to do with him. You didn’t know if you just didn’t want to chance seeing him or hearing about him, but that had included making yourself scarce around Sarah too. Considering that you were dating her brother, it was almost an impressive feat.

“Are you okay? Because as I’m saying this I realize it has been weeks since I’ve seen you, and when Pope asked about you the other day, I realized I couldn’t tell him how you were because I don’t know myself.”

You didn’t know how to respond, unable to tell Sarah that you felt like you were constantly outside of your own body, experiencing everything indirectly since you’d unofficially broken things off with one of her best friends. You missed him—more than you thought you would—and you were back to the reality of what your life was like—and would forever be like—without JJ in it.

So, you simply said:

“I’m fine.”

Sarah didn’t look like she believed you, and you watched as she pulled her lip between her teeth.

“None of us did anything, right?” you were already shaking your head. “...because everything seemed fine and then-.”

“No, of course not,” you said with a light chuckle, trying to reassure her. “It’s just stuff at home that I’ve been handling. Nothing serious, but it’s kept me really busy lately.”

The younger girl slowly nodded at that, still looking unsure.

“If you say so,” she commented. “We’re still down whenever you can pull yourself away.”

It was a very basic gesture, but it both warmed your heart and made your stomach sink. You knew that you’d either have to man up and face the possibility of running into JJ despite the fact that you were now over, or tell Sarah you didn’t want to be friends anymore, and the latter you couldn’t ever bring yourself to do. You enjoyed being around her and her friends, and one could argue that you should be taking advantage of your new free time now that you were no longer seeing JJ.

…but the thought of facing him so soon after essentially ghosting him made your chest hurt. You were self aware enough to admit that you didn't think you were strong enough to face him and walk away again. With JJ out of the picture, you were quickly reminded of just how awful your life was before he decided to kiss you that night, and it was so easy to just let yourself go back to what made you happy.

You were afraid that your resolve would crumble with just one look.

How easy it would be to tell yourself that you deserved this and that your relationship with Rafe was hardly a relationship, at all. It wasn’t a hard argument to make either. Rafe had beat you and threatened to kill you and even put you into the hospital. Anyone in their right mind wouldn’t blame you for what you’d done, but it wasn’t just a matter of right and wrong and who considers what's classified as either of those things.

Rafe would kill you.

That was something you knew for a fact. He’d threatened to do so on several occasions, but you knew that if Rafe ever found out about you and JJ—even in a sense of past tense—there would be nothing to talk about. He would kill you and more than likely JJ too. Sneaking around with JJ just for the hell of it—with no actual foolproof plan to safely get away from Rafe for good—was a death wish.

It was beyond foolish, unfair to JJ, and dangerous for you both.

It was why you greeted Rafe with a gentle smile when he finally found you some time later, reaching for you and threading his fingers through yours. Keeping him happy would keep you safe. You knew that, and somewhere along the way, you’d gotten comfortable and allowed JJ to make you forget that. Your only viable options were Rafe…or death, and anything in between was just a longer and complicated way to achieve the latter.

“I figured I’d find you gossiping with Sarah,” he drawled, tone light-hearted.

You attributed his good mood to this day—and party—being entirely focused on him. You smoothed down the eggshell dress he bought for you, relieved that it was still blemish free. You grimaced as you recalled the last dress you’d spilled some wine on while attending yet another party his parents had thrown.

Rafe took note of the action, and he paused to admire you.

You watched as his blue eyes roamed over your frame, drinking in everything from your perfectly styled hair to the baby pink polish on your toes. The house held that moderate hum that came with a full guest list, but Rafe was entirely focused on you. It felt like one of those rare moments when he was genuinely happy with you, and the look on his face was reminiscent of when you both were eighteen and in love and he was sweeping you off of your feet.

Rafe moved closer and fingered an errant piece of hair before putting it back in place.​​ That seemed to satisfy him, and you watched as the corner of his lips curved upwards just the slightest. His fingers fell to your chin where he gently grazed your skin, and Rafe straightened, looking you over again.

“You look perfect.”

The way in which he said it broke the spell, and suddenly the look in his eyes was so clear. You felt shiny all of a sudden—metallic and heavy and like you belonged on a shelf. Your heart sank, and you didn’t know why because you knew that. You’d long accepted that to Rafe, you were some prize, molded perfectly into his ideal girlfriend who would never dare leave him or speak out against him, and who’d be his support no matter what.

For a split second, you’d really forgotten that, and you gave him a small smile.

“I’m wearing a perfect dress.”

Rafe only smiled at that before pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, pulling you along.

Everyone was moving outside to cut the cake and lavish Rafe with even more attention. You held his hand tight as they did, playing your role and thinking about the many years to come in which you’d have to do this. You’d long resigned yourself to it, but for some reason it was getting to you today more than usual. Perhaps it was because you could see it.

All over their faces.

They all looked at you and Rafe with such fondness and hope and happiness. They saw Ward Cameron’s only son with your father’s only daughter and pictured the future generations of Figure 8 and who would start it. They looked at you two and saw two sons and two daughters and a white picket fence and maybe even a dog. It caused a shiver to travel down your spine, and just when you considered excusing yourself, your boyfriend spoke.

Everyone quieted down as he gently tapped a glass, and you were forced to remain exactly where you were.

Rafe stared into the glass for a moment before leisurely setting it aside. You knew that this was his typical speech in which he thanked everyone for coming and showed endless gratitude to Ward and even briefly mentioned you, but there was a look that passed over his face that you couldn’t name. He looked happy—as expected—but there was a hint of haughtiness in that smile.

“I’m thankful that all of you came to support my family and I to not only celebrate my birthday, but to usher in this new era as I officially join my father’s business as well…”

Hums of appreciation and congratulations reached your ears, and you threw Rafe a smile when he glanced at you.

“I pretty much have everything I want, so…” he waved his hand around. “...gifts and all that typically don’t mean anything to me at this age.”

You kept your eyes on him, wondering what direction this speech was going in.

“However…” Rafe’s smile grew. “There is one gift I’m hoping my wonderful girlfriend will give to me…”

The gasps and commotion around you sounded more horrifying to your ears than exciting as Rafe turned to you and lowered himself to the ground. He was on one knee and reaching into his pocket, and despite the fact that you knew what that meant, you were in complete denial—frozen where you stood—up until he said the words.

“...by telling me ‘yes’ when I ask her to marry me.”

You heard your mother cry out behind you, and if there was any thought that she knew about this, it was quickly gone. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Rose covering her mouth in excitement, and you wanted to look around to see if anyone felt as horrified as you felt, but you knew the answer.

If you dared to look around, everyone would be smiling and looking on in awe and anticipation as they watched Rafe Cameron propose to you. You were sure that if you were met with the sight, it would terrify you, making you feel like you were knee deep in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You glanced up anyway, and only confirmed your suspicions, and you had the sudden urge to cry.

Why was everyone so happy? Why wasn’t anyone else petrified?

It took you an embarrassingly long time to realize it was because no one else knew. No one else knew that Rafe choked you when he felt you were getting too smart with him. No one else knew that the man on one knee before you was also the very same to break your nose and put you in the hospital. No one knew that the man proposing to you had once put the barrel of a gun in your mouth and threatened to kill you.

None of them knew that, and the one person who did didn’t look nearly as horrified as you felt.

You felt like you’d been in your head forever, but in reality, it was probably only a few seconds. Rafe was still knelt before you with that haughty smile and satisfied gleam in his eye, and you knew it was because he knew he’d won. You wouldn’t dare tell him no in front of your families and their friends and put a crack in the perfect picture you two had created.

The ring was a marquise solitaire with a yellow gold band, and if you were guessing correctly, you knew it was at least 3 carats. Tears spilled over as you looked at it, recalling a time where you’d told Rafe that was your dream engagement ring, but that was back then when Rafe was your dream man, and you were in your dream relationship. Both him and the relationship were a nightmare, now, and being presented with that ring of all rings made you sob.

When those blue eyes of his dimmed just a tad, in an effort to protect yourself, your mouth spoke before your brain could catch up, desperately telling him what you knew he wanted to hear.

“Yes.”

The word came out of your mouth and was said in your voice, but you didn’t approve of it, and you broke down again as cheers erupted from around you. Your vision was blurry as Rafe slid the ring onto your finger—a perfect fit—and he was quick to stand and pull you against him. Someone was loudly crying, and it sounded a lot like your mother, but the both of you were crying for entirely different reasons.

Rafe wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your hair as he rocked you both from side to side. You could feel yourselves being closed in on, everyone wanting to come and personally congratulate you, and you shrunk in on yourself, wanting to be as far away from here as possible.

Rafe’s lips grazed your ear.

“You just made me the happiest man on earth.”

You turned away from your bruised reflection, thinking that the evolution of your relationship seemed to bring out a side of Rafe that even scared him a little. You thought that he couldn’t keep his hands off of you before, but it was nothing in comparison to now that he could call you his fiancee. It rolled off of his tongue whenever he was inside of you, and it made it impossible to disassociate and try not to live in the moment of what your life had become.

You didn’t know if he was excited because he was so close to tying you to him forever, or if the ring on your finger increased the sense of ownership that he felt he had over you, but too many times had Rafe left you a little more battered and bruised every time he got you into bed as of late. Thinking about the harsh feel of his teeth on your back only days ago brought tears to your eyes, and you reminded yourself that you knew the trajectory of this journey the day you lied to the police.

After the successful proposal, the party had gone on for another two hours, every individual guest wanting their own solo moment to congratulate the happy couple. Rose and your mother endlessly fawned over the ring, and when you finally got a moment alone with your father, you discovered that he’d known for weeks.

After all, it was weeks ago that Rafe had formally asked for his permission.

“I don’t think any man will ever be good enough for you,” he’d said. “...but he treats you right and respected me enough to come to me.”

The tears in your normally stoic father’s eyes only served to remind you that everyone else was living in an entirely different reality with an alternate version of your relationship. You were feeling more trapped and cornered than ever, and everyone else around you was…elated.

All except one.

“Oh my God,” Sarah had said the moment she'd been able to get a moment with you.

She took your hand and just stared at the ring, and you hadn’t needed to be a genius to know that she wasn’t as over the moon as everyone else. It was all over her face, but despite that, she attempted to be happy for you, and you appreciated the gesture.

“You’re getting married,” she breathed. “To my brother.”

You’d pulled your hand away, swallowing, and beyond all of the overwhelming emotions you were feeling, you still remembered someone whose face you hadn’t seen in weeks.

“Can you…can you not tell anyone else, please?”

She’d looked at you like you were crazy, an incredulous scoff escaping her.

“All of Figure 8 will know by tomorrow morning, you can’t be serious,” she shook her head at you with wide and confused eyes.

“Yes, but we both knew there isn’t really anyone from this side of the island you could possibly tell…”

Sarah seemed to understand that you didn’t want her friends knowing, and although you could see she wanted to know why, she eventually nodded.

“...okay. Sure,” she whispered, tilting her head at you. “Are you happy?”

You had opened and closed your mouth, prepared to lie when she continued.

“You just…don’t seem all that happy.”

“Of course, I am,” you’d said with a deep breath. “Rafe and I are getting married. Why wouldn’t I be?”

It was a loaded question, one you hoped you would never have to answer honestly.

With the heaviness of the ring on your finger and Rafe’s suffocating presence and your mother’s choking enthusiasm about the eventual wedding, you took full advantage the next time Rafe and Ward went out of town, telling Sarah you’d love to come over and hang out with her and Cleo and Kie. You desperately needed a break from the constant reminder that the rest of your life was about to begin.

You had left the ring in your bedroom because you just wanted one night without thinking about it, but you appreciated your decision all the more when the boys had unexpectedly shown up. Nevermind the fact that you weren’t quite ready to face JJ, but you really weren't ready to face him with a huge rock on your finger, and the words on your tongue explaining to him what it meant.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Cleo had half heartedly apologized when she answered the door, pressing a kiss to Pope’s cheek. “...but the house is empty, yeah?”

It was true.

Wheezie was staying with a friend and Rose was on an overnight girls’ trip. You couldn’t even find it in you to be nervous about being around the guys with Rafe none the wiser. You were at his house, and it would take nothing to just drive home, but most importantly, oddly enough, you were more concerned with being face to face with JJ again, at the moment.

Like a coward, you were unable to look him in the eye when you heard his voice for the first time in a month, and you were thankful that too much was going on for your uncharacteristic silence to be noticeable. You felt his gaze on you though, goosebumps erupting over your skin and feeling much hotter, but your eyes remained on your lap.

You only looked up just in time to see him brush past Kie to find a seat, and your brows furrowed as you looked between them. You had never known JJ to be cold, it just wasn’t like him, but there was no doubt about it that he was giving Kie the cold shoulder. The dark-haired girl saw your frown, and she merely shook her head.

“I feel like we haven’t seen you in years,” Pope said to you, reaching out for a high-five.

“Sure feels that way, don’t it.”

JJ’s comment made you grimace, and when you dared to look over at him, his gaze was already on you.

Coming face to face with him after what felt like forever made your heart skip a beat, and you struggled to look away.

“Sorry,” you eventually apologized to Pope, ignoring JJ’s comment. “Rafe and family stuff just took up so much time.”

He waved off your apology, assuring you that he was joking, but you knew that JJ wasn’t, and when the blond got up to get a drink, you impulsively followed. The rest of them—sans Kie—were none the wiser, and you briefly glanced over your shoulder before going into the kitchen. JJ was standing in the fridge, and it was only hitting you in that moment that you hadn’t seen nor talked to him in weeks.

You already knew that you missed him, but it was hitting you much harder as you stood so close to him while being unable to touch him. He looked like he was doing okay, and his hair was just as blond, and when he straightened, you were reminded of what it felt like to have those arms wrapped around you. You missed the feeling, and you missed running your hands through his hair and falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat whenever you had the chance.

In this moment, it was very hard to remember why you had left him. However, you reminded yourself that you hadn’t followed him to talk about you two. There was no ‘you two’ anymore.

There was just you, and there was just JJ.

“Why are you treating Kie like that?”

JJ didn’t respond at first, merely turning to you and staring you down for a few moments before a mocking smirk graced his pink lips.

“That’s all you have to say to me…?”

You didn’t respond to that, and when it became clear that you simply wouldn’t, JJ scoffed. He shook his head, opening a beer that was meant for Ward, no doubt, before leaning his back against the counter.

“You know why,” was what he said with a straight face.

Now, it was your turn to scoff.

“It’s not her fault,” you defended, continuing when he started to shake his head. “She didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, anything that we didn’t already know. We were just choosing to ignore it.”

“You told me you weren’t going to let what she said get to you. You nodded, you assured me of that, and then I don’t hear from you for a month.”

He’d dropped the cavalier facade, and you could see the anger and hurt passing over his features. 

“You don’t answer my calls, you don’t answer my texts, and if it wasn’t for Sarah, I wouldn’t have even known you were alive.”

“JJ-.”

“We were happy-.”

“We were delusional,” you quietly hissed. “Kie was right. Don’t hate her for something that was inevitable.”

That word seemed to bother JJ, and you watched as his features hardened. Your former lover stared at you for what felt like a long time before glancing away. You watched him press his tongue to the inside of his cheek, and you didn’t like the look he fixed you with.

“Did you forget the deal we made…?”

When you frowned at him, he continued.

“That I would keep quiet about Rafe so long as you let me be there for you?”

You shifted your feet, feeling uncomfortable at the mention of that. You didn’t say anything, not wanting to acknowledge that, but JJ merely nodded with a hum. He took another swig of beer, and you really hated the look he fixed you with then.

“If you’re not going to hold up your end of the deal then why should I hold up mine?”

Your heart sank to your gut at that, and you blinked at JJ in disbelief, unable to believe that even he believed he was capable of what he was insinuating. Not only that, but it was such a cruel thing to even bluff about, and you let out a dry chuckle.

“JJ…that’s… No,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t answer your question, choosing to gesture to the living room.

“What’s to stop me from pulling Sarah aside and telling her exactly why you hardly have a life outside of your relationship with her brother?”

Your lips parted, and you just stared at him…unable to believe what you were hearing.

“You won’t let me be there for you,” he spat out with a shrug. “...and someone has to be.”

You finally found your voice, and you blinked back tears.

“That’s not your decision to make,” you quietly bit out.

“...and I disagree,” he argued, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head. “We’re not talking about the typical asshole boyfriend here. Your life is in danger every time you’re around him.”

You furiously blinked, looking towards the ceiling.

“As long as he’s happy…I’m safe,” you breathed, lips trembling as you looked at JJ again. “I just have to-.”

“...and when Ward pisses him off again? When you’re not as cold as you should be to some strange man? When he decides Topper was a bit too nice to you? Then what?”

JJ moved closer with every question, a sneer on his lips as he stared you down.

“There’s no way to keep a guy like that happy.”

You flinched, leaning away from JJ as he leaned in. He looked between your tearful eyes, and while yes he was angry and hurt over how you decided to end things, you could see clear as day that JJ was also scared. He was scared for you and whatever future was available to you now that you’d decided to completely submit to Rafe and what he wanted for you both.

His face softened the longer he stared at you, and just as he lifted his hand, footsteps reached your ears.

You were in front of the open fridge just as John B. came in, handing him a drink when he asked for one. You stared at the food in front of you while you attempted to fix your face and get your emotions in check. Your heart was racing in your chest, and you wondered if you were just about to fall back into old habits had it not been for the brunette. You slipped out of the kitchen while John B. brought up something from the other day with JJ, and your smile was half hearted as Cleo pulled you to sit beside her.

You tried to engage with them, but it was hard. You couldn’t get JJ’s words out of your mind and how right they were despite your denial of them. Keeping Rafe happy and discouraging him from hurting you would only work for so long at a time. Eventually a day would come where Ward pissed him off and he’d take it out on your body in some form or another. It was inevitable that Topper or Kelce or some other guy would slip and dare to treat you like a human being, something that Rafe would no doubt interpret as a line being crossed.

It made your heart sink to think about.

So caught up in your thoughts, you paid no mind to JJ and John B. returning from the kitchen until you felt liquid spilling all over you and the part of the couch you were sitting on. It smelled too strong to be anything other than beer, and you heard everyone scold JJ just as you jumped to your feet.

“Why were you trying to carry so many?” Sarah loudly tore into him, alternating between looking over you and looking over the stained couch. “Now Y/N has to change, and you have to fix this couch.”

They briefly went back and forth while you tried to keep your shirt from sticking to you, assuring Sarah it was fine before making your way upstairs to do just as she said you would. You hurried into Rafe’s room, peeling off your shirt and your shorts the moment you were through the threshold. Your skin was already feeling sticky, and if he’d gotten beer on more than just your back and shoulders and arm, then you would’ve admitted defeat and hopped in the shower.

You were half dressed and wiping off the last of it when you heard Sarah’s voice in the hall.

“You have clothes here, right?”

“Yeah,” you called, grabbing one of the many shirts you kept in Rafe’s drawers.

“Okay, because JJ felt bad and wanted to be sure you had something to change into, and then that made me unsure-.”

You were facing her and fully dressed the moment she cut herself off, swallowing the rest of her words. She was just inside of Rafe’s room, hand still on the door handle as she stared at you. Something passed over her face that you’d never seen before, and her brows knitted together as she gave you a strange look.

“What was that?”

Now, it was your turn to frown.

“What was what?”

Her mouth opened and closed—like she was doubting herself—before she tucked some hair behind her ear.

“On your back.”

You felt your skin grow cold at her words, heart sinking as you quickly realized what she was referring to. Now, your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to respond. Your genuine confusion had quickly morphed into something that you normally only felt around Rafe—fear. 

Giving her a soft hum, you pulled on your shirt and twisted around.

“Nothing. The shirt’s clean,” you told her.

Sarah gave a soft chuckle, but sounded off—uncomfortable.

“No, under your shirt…”

You stepped away when she reached for you, and the blonde took notice, that frown returning. It deepened the longer she stared at you, and you attempted to lighten the mood.

“It was probably just the lighting, my back’s fine,” you assured her.

She rolled her eyes at you.

“That didn’t look like a shadow. I know what a shadow looks like-.”

“Sarah, come on, my back is fine,” you waved her off, moving out of her reach. “Let’s just go back downstairs.”

Your attempt to get past her was successful, but your efforts to leave the room were halted when Sarah pulled up on the end of your shirt.

The gasp that she let out was loud—horrified—and when you hurried to turn your back away from her, she had both of her hands over her mouth. Her wide eyes were frozen exactly where your back just was, and it took her a few moments to lift her gaze. All the while, your heart was threatening to jump out of your chest. You stared at her and she stared at you, both of you silent—her with horror and you with fear.

“What the hell is that?” she whispered when she finally uncovered her mouth.

“Sarah, it’s nothing-.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” she breathed. “There are bruises—that was a bite mark!”

You worriedly looked over your shoulder, scared her voice would carry.

“Where did that come from? Did Rafe do that?”

“It’s not what you think-!”

“Then what is it? Tell me what it is since it’s not what I think,” she spat.

You struggled to come up with an answer, resigned to admit that the truth—while bad—was the best thing you had up your sleeve.

“Things get a little rough sometimes in bed-.”

Sarah cut you off with a scoff, shaking her head at you.

“I don’t believe that,” she cried. “Even if I did, that looks disgusting and painful!”

She hurried to get past you, and you struggled to stop her.

“What are you doing?” you asked her, voice panicked.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m calling our father-.”

“Sarah, stop!”

She twisted out of your grip, and you chased her down the hall. Your mingled voices were loud as you argued, bouncing off of the walls as you chased her down the stairs. You didn’t pay any mind to her friends and what they were witnessing, only concerned with stopping Sarah from picking up her phone. You could feel their eyes on you as you grabbed her again, Sarah fighting to get you off of her.

“Woah, woah, hey!” John B. yelled, jumping in to separate you two.

“Sarah, leave it-!”

“Are you crazy? You expect me to just-.”

She was cut off as John B. successfully pulled her away from you, a hand on your own arm pulling you away. The problem arose again when John B. let her go, and you pushed your hand against the person behind you to get to her phone before she did. You both fought over it, you on top of her on the couch as you tried to yank it out of her hands. 

You could feel several pairs of hands between you, attempting to separate you again and keep it that way. JJ’s voice was in your ear as he pulled you off of her, your legs kicking out as you pointed at her phone.

“JJ, stop her,” you tearfully spat. “She’s trying to call Ward.”

When he made you face him, his own was twisted into confusion, and he kept his arms wrapped around you.

“What are you talking about? Why is she trying to call Ward?”

“Okay, both of you calm down,” Cleo spoke up, and when you looked over you saw that she was holding Sarah’s phone up and out of reach. “What’s going on?”

“She’s hurt! It’s all over her back,” Sarah choked out, chest heaving and face distressed. 

At those words, JJ tensed against you, and you gave him a pleading look when his eyes finally met yours again.

“She tried to give me some bullshit story, but I don’t believe it,” the words tumbled out of Sarah’s mouth, and JJ let you go. “JJ, she-.”

“I know,” he said as he neared her, Sarah speaking to him the moment she noticed his approach.

“No, you don’t know. There are bruises all over her back…” you felt several pairs of eyes on you at that. “...and…and…”

“Sarah, I know-.”

“No, you don’t understand-!”

“Sarah, I know,” JJ finally screamed, taking her shoulders and gently shaking her.

The entire house was quiet as his words lingered in the air, and you swore that you could hear a needle drop. Your entire body was trembling for so many reasons, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as Sarah’s eyes widened, her gaze never breaking from JJ’s. So many emotions passed over her features—confusion, understanding, shock, betrayal—before finally settling on two.

Sarah was horrified…and angry.

“You know?” she whispered. “What…? What does that even mean?”

She looked between you two, and you weren’t able to hold her gaze, your eyes landing on the floor. You were the center of attention at the moment, and you certainly felt it.

“H-how long have you…?”

JJ didn’t answer her unfinished question right away, sighing.

“I found out months ago…”

He trailed off at the audible reaction he got, and when you looked up, Sarah’s lips were parted. John B. was behind her, and he was looking between you and JJ with an expression that rivaled his girlfriend’s.

“Months?”

Sarah turned her gaze to you again.

“Months?” she choked out. “Months…”

She repeated it like she couldn’t believe it, and JJ took advantage of her shock to get his point across.

“Sarah, you cannot call Ward,” JJ slowly told her.

“Why the hell not?” John B. wondered, and you were sure you’d never heard him sound so angry.

“...because he’s with Rafe.”

Kie whispered it, coming to the same conclusion and realization that you and JJ were trying to lead Sarah to. The blonde girl in question looked at Kie in shock as if she herself just realized that, and she furiously blinked, shaking her head.

“Kie’s right, okay? He’s with Rafe, and you cannot call him about this. Not now, not ever…”

Only you and JJ knew that Ward was well aware of his son’s nature, and neither of you seemed eager to break that news to Sarah who was so sure her father would be the person to call because he’d do what was right.

“I don’t believe this,” she shakily whispered, twisting a hand into the hair at the top of her head. “He’s hurting you, and I’m just expected to-.”

“Yes,” JJ snapped at her. “You don’t understand-.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand!” they were in each other’s faces. “I don’t understand how Rafe has been hurting her for months apparently and I’ve been in the complete dark about it. I don’t understand how you knew and didn’t say anything!”

JJ sharply inhaled.

“I don’t understand how you’re standing here and telling me not to pick up the phone, and she’s agreeing. I don’t understand any of this,” Sarah tearfully said, shoving JJ. 

You stumbled back before turning away and searching for your purse. The sight of them arguing—because of you—and the feeling of everyone staring at you and knowing the truth was making you lightheaded and nauseous all at once, and you desperately wanted to be anywhere but here.

Kie called your name first, and then Pope, but you were already at the door when JJ finally chased after you. You could hear Sarah and Kie going back and forth as you stepped outside, and your vision was blurry when JJ finally caught up with you.

“They’re going to talk to her, okay?”

You sniffed, hurrying towards your car.

“She’s confused and scared and mad, right now, so she doesn’t get it, but she will,” JJ assured you. “We’re gonna talk to her.”

JJ’s hand was on your arm as you reached your car, and you stared at your reflections in the window for a few moments before a sob escaped you. JJ pulled you into his arms, gently shushing you as you cried into his shoulder. He didn’t offer any words of encouragement because this was an unprecedented situation, and neither of you knew what was going to happen from here. Nobody else was ever supposed to know.

…but especially Sarah.

JJ held you for the longest time, and resolute in your decision to end things with him, you allowed yourself to bask in the feeling. You deeply inhaled and relaxed at the familiar scent that was JJ Maybank. You allowed yourself to find comfort in the warmth of his arms, and you could feel JJ doing the same.

When he started to pull away, he kept his arms around you, and when you glanced up, your eyes met his. He looked sad for you and scared for you but above all, he looked like he missed you, and when JJ started to lean in, you swallowed.

“Rafe asked me to marry him…”

The blond froze.

“...and I said yes.”

Your lips brushed his as you spoke, and he remained there for a moment or two before finally leaning back to look you in the eyes. If you thought JJ looked horrified before, it was nothing in comparison to how he looked after hearing that you and Rafe were getting married.

“...and if I asked you not to?”

You gave a humorless chuckle.

“I’d say that a girl can dream.”

JJ softly said your name, and you shrugged.

“I wanted you to hear it from me,” you whispered. “He asked me in front of our families and all of their friends, so it’s not like I could say no.”

You watched as JJ’s expression hardened.

“This was never fair to you,” you said to him.”Please, stop hating Kie for pointing that out.”

“I can make my own damn decisions,” JJ threw out, and you swallowed down a sigh. “...and right now, I’m telling you that I’m not letting you marry him.”

It was a good thing that you didn’t know how to respond to that, because JJ continued.

“I’m not letting that happen,” he sneered. “The thought of you marrying that asshole makes me sick.”

You moved away from him, pushing his hands away when he reached for you.

“JJ, it’s over. I’m actually saying out loud this time,” you sadly told him. “Stop calling me, stop texting me, and… I won’t stop you from staying in the pool house, but I told you that my father-.”

“I’m not abandoning you. You can’t make me,” he cut you off, and you swallowed as he looked between your eyes. “This isn’t what you want, and I’m not gonna let you do this.”

“JJ, it’s done,” you firmly said to him. “Rafe and I are engaged. He asked my father’s permission, my mother is beside herself planning the whole wedding…and you and I are over.”

You looked between his eyes.

“That’s how things are supposed to be.”

The silence that stretched between you was thick and tense, and you swallowed at the way JJ ran his gaze over you. When he reached behind you to open your door, you sharply inhaled, moving closer to him to allow him to widen it. The blond leaned in then and pressed his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds. You closed your eyes, and he breathed you in.

“I’ll talk to Sarah.”

He assured you of that when you slid into the driver’s seat, but he didn’t acknowledge anything you said, and that made you nervous. He shut your door for you, and as you started your car, you were having a hard time believing your own words when you told him that you were over.

[bigenergy777]

Best Friends Club

summary: prompt fill. Wally's been your best friend since the Grade 4 puppet show. a disaster that brought you together for life. only now, years later and months away from graduation, Wally needs to get something off his chest. he just...didn't exactly plan to do it this way... (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. friends to lovers. protective behavior. AU. silliness & fluff. Simon and Wally are bros (fight me).

bon reading, frens

___________________________☄️

Best Friends Club

Wally's chatting with Maddie and Charley before school, has his arm around your shoulders as you focus on your phone, laughing and joking and smiling wide until:

"Holy crap, Jake Tremblay just asked me to go out Friday," You announce, pretty eyes wide, blinking in shock at everyone.

Wally goes still, smile sliding off his face as his stomach drops and his heart ups and lodges itself in his throat. God, this hurts.

See, the thing is, you're Wally's best friend. And while he has his arm around you—is always reaching for you, hand on your back, arm, shoulder, whatever—it's never been anything but friendly. Best friendly. Because you and he are f r i e n d s. And it sucks. Royally.

Why? Yeah, no one needs three guesses to figure out that Wally's been in love with you since Grade 4. That massacre of a puppet show the kids put on for their parents during Spirit Week. You and Wally spent the entire performance using sock puppets to have a dialogue about who'd win in a fight: Goku or Sailor Moon. Didn't even notice the blood vessel about to pop in Mr. Toast's temple when things really started to spiral.

Wally only comes down to earth when you say his name for what must not be the first time, everyone's eyes on him. Yours, especially, beautiful and concerned as you stare at him expectantly.

"What was that?" He asks, feeling simultaneously dumb and unable to function.

You repeat, "I asked you what I should say..." and turn to face him fully. Still close enough that your body heat soaks through his hoodie. Fuck, how can he say anything negative when you're giving him that sweet, earnest expression? Seeking advice from someone you trust implicitly.

Against his better judgment—or maybe for it—Wally slaps on a smile and says, "Yeah. You should go for it."

This isn't the first time you've been asked out. Of course, those last few times you didn't look so keen on accepting the offer. When you turn back to your phone, Wally's face immediately falls. He doesn't look at Maddie or Charley, can't handle the pity he knows he'll see in their eyes.

Everyone in the circle knows about Wally's crush on you (fuck, it's so much more than that), but apart from insisting he talk to you, no one points it out. You're the only one who hasn't caught on, Nicole having informed Wally that you giggled over popcorn, what are you talking about? Wally's always like that, when everyone was at the APEX for a midnight screening of some scary movie Wally couldn't have cared less about.

And, sure, Wally is 'always like that': Goofy, charming, flirtatious; standing in line at concessions for you and holding your bag when you go to the bathroom... What you don't seem to grasp is that Wally isn't like that with anyone else. And now you're saying 'yes' to Jake Tremblay and Wally has to muster the strength not to punch a wall.

‗•‗

Simon closes his locker only to jolt backwards. Wally appeared out of the fucking ether, what the hell? He has his forehead pressed against the locker beside Simon's, shoulders slumped, looking all-in-all miserable to exist.

"Yoouu okay?" Simon ventures, raising a brow.

Slowly, Wally turns his head and nothing else, eyes puppy-dog sad and lower lip pursed in a pout, "No." And then, after turning to face the locker again, "She said yes to Jake Tremblay."

"Dude, I've told you a thousand times, talk. to. her." Simon says like a mother insisting Wally clean his room.

Pointed, "Oh, you mean like you talked to Maddie?"

Simon takes a moment to reevaluate his life before, in a placid, neutral tone, declares, "I regret this friendship."

"No you don't." Wally says, but he's still glooming into the locker. "What do I do?"

"Aside from talk to her?" Simon shrugs helplessly. How's he supposed to know? He and Wally have been paddling the same sinking boat for approximately the same number of years. "Do you...wanna threaten Jake?" Simon asks in a pitch similar to that used when asking children if they want to go for ice cream after a tantrum.

Wally seems to seriously consider it but glumly decides, "No. I want her to be happy." A heavy sigh. "Even if it's not with me."

"This isn't going to make you some kind of martyr, you know."

"I know."

Simon doesn't think Wally does know, but fine, he'll play along. "Maybe it'll go so bad that she swears off dating forever."

"A guy can dream," Wally mumbles as he straightens, and, Jesus, he looks like every kitten in the world just got launched at the sun and he was forced to watch.

Simon can see beneath Wally's utter despair to the gears turning in his brain. Can sense what ill-advised plan Wally is cooking up (because this isn't the first time he's done something stupid to ensure you're safe). In an effort to, a) avoid criminal charges and, b) make Wally feel better:

"What if I happen to be in the same place at the same time? I could keep an eye on things for you." Simon suggests and he already wishes he didn't say anything.

Wally brightens, "You'd do that for me?"

"Apparently..." Simon says, questioning himself. "Look, better me than you, right? Otherwise, it'll be exactly what it is and she'll never talk to you again."

"Why? What would it be if I do it?"

"Stalking, Wally," Simon states as he heads into History, Wally at his heels.

"Hey!" Wally protests, "It's not like that!"

Taking his seat, Simon just gives Wally a pointed stare, "Buddy, I know you read those BookTok romances, but following your BFF on her date with another dude isn't a romantic gesture. It's creepy a-f."

"But...you'll do it for me?" Wally wants to confirm, his eyes all wide and pleading.

Simon sighs, thinking this is a terrible idea, but seeing Wally so sad breaks Simon's heart and he can't bring himself to take back the offer. "...Apparently."

‗•‗

Friday comes. It's all you've been talking about since Monday and Wally has had it up to here with Jake This and Jake That, and if he hears one. more. thing. about Jake, Wally's going to burst into a million pieces of ragehate and take the whole school with him.

But he smiles and nods and teases you like he would in any other situation, bumping your ass with his hip when he finds you bent over at your locker at lunch. You don't even need to look to know it's him, simply continue to shove your backpack in your locker and grab your jean jacket.

"Diner?" You give him a sunshine smile that Wally returns, almost forgetting about your date and Jake and how you're not actually Wally's girlfriend.

Not in this lifetime, his brain reminds him bluntly.

His blood stings.

Over lunch at the diner down the street, you outline exactly what Jake has planned. Dinner at the Italian place beside the Arcade (it's fucking Olive Garden, Jake, do better) and then—Jesus, really?!—stargazing on the roof of the old cigarette factory. An organized thing. The planets will be in some kind of super rare alignment or something, and local enthusiasts have banded together to share their telescopes.

"No offense, but since when do you care about the planets?" Wally wonders as he dips his fries into your ketchup.

You shrug, "I mean, it's something to do, right? And you're always telling me to 'branch out and try new things, dorkface'," You exaggerate the last part in a parody of Wally's voice before continuing as yourself, "so, why not astronomy?"

"Because it's outside and you hate outside things before May." Wally chuckles and shakes his head, "You're gonna get cold and complain and steal Jake's hoodie like you've stolen five of mine."

Wally loathed the idea of you stealing another guy's anything, but he smiles through the jealousy. Perhaps a little too intent on smearing more fries through your ketchup as his knee bumps the underside of the table in quick, nervous intervals.

Oh, he is not doing well.

He instantly notices how you've gone still, how you're studying his expression, words, behavior like a zoologist at the gorilla enclosure because Wally can't fucking keep his cool when he's forced to think about you being cozy and cute for someone who isn't him-shaped.

Wally keeps his eyes on his plate for a few moments; long enough that you gracefully change the subject and ask Wally what his plans are for tonight. As if they don't involve hanging out with his phone while he obsessively waits for Simon's updates throughout the course of your date.

"Nothing special," He says, patting himself on the back for keeping his voice even, "just hanging out at home."

‗•‗

It's 8:43PM when Wally's phone lights up with a call. As promised, Simon kept Wally abreast of every. single. thing. you and Jake did on your date. From flirty conversation over unlimited breadsticks to shifting to one side of the booth to split dessert.

It's only been an hour and a half since you and Jake were seated. What on earth could Simon have to tell him that couldn't be texted?

"Don't freak out—" Wally promptly freaks out "—but something happened."

Wally shoots up in bed, where he's been whiling away since he got home from school, and is immediately on alert. Heart pounding, blood pumping, ready for war.

"What's going on? Is she okay?"

"Oh. She's fine." Simon reports. He sounds like he's hiding, voice a harsh whisper just loud enough for Wally to hear. "Jake might be in a permanent body cast for the rest of his life, but she's totally fine."

Wally breathes a sigh of relief, although he's still confused, "What happened?"

Simon clears his throat, "She's probably going to call you in, like, a minute, so you have to act...just...be cool, okay?" And then, finally, he reveals, "Jake tried to stick his hand under her skirt. And I mean, he went for it. Full grope from behind."

At that moment, Wally sees fucking r e d. He's off the phone and in his car faster than a bullet, tearing out of his parents' driveway with a screech. Burns rubber around every corner; breaks several traffic laws; and pulls up just as you're about to get into an Uber. There's no sign of Jake. Unfortunate, since Wally has a surplus of adrenaline thrumming through his veins, and the only cure is beating the guy's face to a fucking pulp.

You look confused for all of a second before your face crumples. Wally gets out of the driver's seat and hurries toward you. Gathers you in his arms as soon as you're within reach, and holds you as you shake. He rubs your back, soothes you with soft words; managing to simultaneously shoo the Uber driver away with a polite nod and a gesture.

"Are you okay?" He asks after a minute. "Do I need to kill him?"

"...No," You mumble into Wally's chest. "I already did that."

Wally grins, though it's sad at its edges. You shouldn't have had to.

"That's my girl," He murmurs into your hair after he places a comforting kiss on your head. "Come on. I'll drive you home."

You go without resistance, even allowing Wally to fuss over you and buckle you in. As he settles behind the wheel, he glances at you again and realizes, "Whose jacket is that?"

You press your lips together and stare at your lap, "I got cold... Besides, after what he did, I think I earned it." You end firmly, crossing your arms.

"Did you take it before or after you kicked his ass?"

"After, duh." You say like it's so obvious, "We were inside before. But I didn't want to wait for my Uber in front of everyone who saw what happened. So...I made him give it to me."

Wally barks a laugh as he takes your hand, holding it in that platonic way, fingers not laced how he wants them to be, but he'll take what he can get. Your knuckles are raw where they made impact with whatever part of Jake you punched. Wally smooths the pad of his thumb over them. Gentle. Loving.

"Where to, sweetcheeks?" He asks, "Home or ice cream?"

"Home." You decide with finality which makes it hard to swallow around the lump of disappointment in Wally's throat.

Call him selfish, but he hoped you'd want to let him comfort you. Regardless, he does as he's told and pulls away from the curb, pulling a uey to head toward your house.

‗•‗

On Monday, Wally finds Jake in the boys' locker room after swim practice, his black eye looking like it needs a twin. Wally punches Jake hard enough that even he sees circling birdies.

He shakes out his hand as he leaves without a word, hardly feeling the pain through the smug satisfaction warming his belly.

‗•‗

It's the next weekend when you invite Wally over for a casual afternoon kick back. I need Best Friend Time, you said, all adorable and gloomy, wanting to put all thoughts of ever dating again behind you (thanks for putting that out there, Simon, you da man!). Wally's in, of course he is, on the road as soon as you hang up.

Your parents are having a late lunch with friends a town over, so it'll be just you and him for a while. Games and snacks and Domino's on the menu for dinner. When you answer the door for him, you've got some of that sunshine glow back in your eyes, your smile making Wally's heart flutter.

You lead him to the basement, everything already set up: coffee table pushed aside for the nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, bags of gummy worms and twizzlers (Wally's favorite) and those Canadian chips you like in a pile beside cans of Dr. Pepper and Coke Zero.

Wally wore his cleanest sweatpants for the occasion, matching your chill vibe. And damn those low-slung yoga pants and that fucking tight-as-sin tank top, no bra because you love to drive Wally crazy.

"Ready to have your ass handed to you again?" You joke as you get comfortable on your side of the nest.

Wally claps back, "Hah! You haven't won in three months, sugarlips, what makes you think today's the day?"

You just smirk and hand Wally a controller, "I have a plan." And that's all there is to it. You don't elaborate, don't hint, don't give Wally any indication whatsoever what this plan might be.

Fishy...but effective. You're already in Wally's head. Hmm, maybe that's the plan? Wally shakes himself to attention and starts the game, grinning like a shark as he gets the lead right off the bat.

Just as he's about to cross the finish line, "So much for your pla—" the world suddenly tilts sideways. He can't finish his thought, barreled over by your weight crashing into him as you grab the controller right out of his hand.

You squeal victoriously, the sound rebooting his brain, and he realizes what just happened.

"Hey!" He tries to grab the controller, but you hold it up and away from him, big smile on your face as the screen announces Wally's demise. "Not fair!" He wraps his arms around you and flips you onto your back; presses his weight into you as he uses the advantage of his longer limbs to snatch the controller back.

Apparently not taking this lying down, you band your legs around his waist then surge up, somehow summoning the strength of five Wallys to roll him onto his back again. Stunned, he stares up at you as you wave the controller victoriously.

"You were saying?" You chuckle, smug as ever, slightly out of breath.

Oh, but Wally isn't done yet, miss ma'am. He snaps his hands up, clamping his fingers for the controller which you arch your back to hold away from him, crying out when he takes advantage of your off-balance position to knock you backward. Once more, he has you squirming beneath him.

He grabs one wrist and then the other, transferring both into the grip of one of his large hands while he plucks the controller from you with the other. That's about the moment he realizes, uh-oh, he can feel your breath on his lips. Your face is such a beautiful shade of pink, and your thighs are on either side of his hips. Wally's body is completely flush against yours. All of him. Every. Last little bit. of him.

Wally should move. Definitely. He should move right now; just get off you and pretend everything's normal and you're not gazing up at him like that and his lips aren't so fucking close to yours, and the air hasn't been sucked out of the room that no longer exists around you and him because there's only you and only him and fuck. Shit.

"Wally~?" You say, voice a whisper tinged with something that makes Wally's cock twitch. Heat, maybe. Or need. You swallow, the sound audible, and, oh fuck, Wally watches your eyes flicker to his mouth then back, like you're finally on the same page, like you want it, too.

His hand flexes around your wrists, body settling more firmly on yours, and he stares at your face as he rocks his hips, just once, experimental, just to see what you'll do. He knows you can feel him, stiff and hardening further, all his inches against the heat of your pussy through your thin as fuck yoga pants.

Your reaction almost explodes Wally's brain. That sweet little whimper, how your eyes glaze over and your lips part; how you mimic the action with one of your own, sending sparks of electricity through Wally's nervous system.

"Fuck," He chokes out, grip loosening around your wrists, but not letting go. He drops the controller. Instead uses that hand to brush his fingers across your cheek and down the slope of your jaw. His breath mingles with yours, the heat in him rises, his heart beating a frenzied tattoo in his chest. Is he really going to do this?

"Please," You say, so soft, so perfect, that, yes, Wally is absolutely going to do this.

He gently bumps the tip of his nose against yours, smiles in wonder that this is really about to happen, and then slowly, to give you a chance to turn away if you don't want this, he leans in, stopping only to tease, "One more time, princess." His voice low and husky.

He feels you tense and then release before whispering, "Please, Wally..."

That's all he needs to lean in and kiss you for the first time, his lips capturing yours with years of hunger and desire and fucking love. So much love it threatens to go nuclear if Wally doesn't share the burden right this minute.

He moans, grinds his hips against yours, his cock throbbing against you, God, he needs you so badly. Has needed you so badly since he first discovered how his dick works and probably even before then. He lets his hand roam down down down, then up under your tank top, fingers caressing the soft shape of your breast.

You keen and arch into the touch, and, holy shit, he can't do this slow. Next time—please Jesus, let there be a next time—he'll do this right. He'll do candles and rose petals and Barry Manilow, but right now, he has to know what it feels like when you come around his cock.

His kisses turn urgent, his movements more hungry, and you match his crazy like a mirror. His shirt first, thrown behind the TV, then yours, tossed somewhere near the coffee table. Wally takes a second to admire your bare chest, licks his lips, and then descends, starving for a taste. He sucks your nipple, twirls his tongue around it, moaning as if it's the best thing he's ever had in his mouth.

Which, as soon as he peels your yoga pants off and resituates himself between your spread-wide thighs, he knows isn't true. This is the best thing he's ever had on his tongue. He spears it in and out of you, moaning and panting as he kisses your pussy deeply, brings one, two fingers into the mix; pumping into you over and over until you shake and beg and arch so fucking pretty for him.

"Fuck, baby, I need to feel you come," He groans, shoving his sweatpants and boxers off and throwing them somewhere to find later.

You agree enthusiastically, reaching for him as you hook one leg over his hip, the other over his shoulder—Goddamn, were you always this bendy!?—and cry out like a heavenly chorus when he drives his cock into you. Fuck, God, his eyes roll back in his skull, it's the most incredible feeling, an indescribable euphoria flushing through him from scalp to soles.

"You feel so...big, Wally, oh my god," You gasp when he begins to move, and doesn't that just rub his ego the right way?

He genuinely can't even find the brain cells to reply, too busy losing himself to the sensation of being inside you, finally, so much more intense than any and every fantasy he's had of you and him entwined like this.

"Baby," He moans, hips pumping faster, fat tip hitting your sweet spot over and over and over until he feels you tighten around him, hears you gasp, and then moan in ecstasy.

He wishes he could last, that he could keep going until you come again, again, again, but he's waited so long for this and it's overwhelming, he can't do it. With one, two, three more quick thrusts, Wally tenses and then groans, grinding his release into you; leaning down to take your lips in a feverish kiss.

As you and he recover, he rests his forehead against yours, releases your wrists—oops—and cradles your face in one hand, his most precious girl a vision in the afterglow. You shift, your hands on his jaw, and you're looking at him like the sun, moon, and stars.

"How long?" You eventually ask.

Wally doesn't need you to clarify. He knows exactly what you mean.

"Grade 4."

He watches you absorb the information, nod, and then your eyes meet his when you make your own confession, "Grade 3. Ms. Houette's class. You made a joke about seagulls that was so lame it was funny."

Wally about short-circuits. He begs your finest pardon, but what was that? "Grade...3?"

"Grade 3."

"...are you saying that I could've been loving on you—" He emphasizes with a roll of his hips, winces from oversensitivity, "—since before I even understood what that meant?"

"I'm saying I've had a big, stupid crush on you since Grade 3." You say, innocent and solemn, "You take that however you want."

Wally chooses to forego the existential crisis and simply enjoy that he has you under him. There's a lot of time to make up for and a lot of fantasies Wally wants to bring to life, which you and he do with gusto until your parents get home and call down a hello.

Later, after redressing in a tornado and greeting your parents face-to-face; after stammered updates and weak conversation; after retreating to the basement to watch a movie and cuddle—Lord, you feel so good in Wally's arms, he never wants to let you go.

After all that, during a lull in the movie, you finally ask, "So, are you going to tell me how you knew what happened with Jake before I told you?" And you prop your chin on his chest, looking up at him with amusement.

Wally gulps, facing the screen as he desperately tries to come up with a feasible answer. Nothing comes to mind, though, so he's stuck offering:

"Uuuh...?"

You sit back, on your knees between his legs, and raise a brow, "I know Simon was there. You can tell him that Groucho glasses do not a disguise make."

Sheepish, "He's a good bro...?"

"A very good bro," You agree primly, "A bro who stalks one of his best friend's other best friend because...?"

Now Wally knows he has to tell you. He sits up himself, hands finding your waist, eyes earnest and sweet as he admits, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn't know anything about Jake and you never let me vet any of the guys you go out with—"

"Yes. All three of them." You say flatly, rolling your eyes.

"One, three, five, doesn't matter, baby, I always wanted to make sure they were good enough for you..."

"So, did you make Simon follow me and Dan to the movie last year?" You wonder.

Wally glances away, guilt muddling his expression.

"...Did you follow me and Dan to the movie last year?"

"If I say no, will you believe me and let me cuddle you some more?"

Your jaw drops, eyes round, and for a second, Wally's sure he's about to get the boot. Not just from your house, but from the Best Friends Club altogether. He's already mourning the loss of your touch when you abruptly burst into laughter, crashing into him like you did before, only this time a lot gentler.

You nuzzle your face into his neck and then kiss his face all over, grinning down at him with the same beautiful smile you always give him.

"You're not mad?"

You shake your head, "I made Xavier come with me to that football game you took Melissa to last fall..."

Gobsmacked, Wally blurts, "You hate sports," since it's entirely relevant to how you stalked him as much as he stalked you on dates neither of you wanted the other to be on.

"I don't hate sports. I like sports. I hate all the pauses and the time outs and the—"

Wally cuts you off with a kiss, at first just a stamp of lips to lips but slowly melting into something softer, deeper, more heated.

Wally pulls back a fraction to say, "I love you, babygirl," looking deep into your eyes. One hand on your hip, the other in your hair, releasing a long, shaky breath as he waits for you to say something.

Finally, a smile spreads across your face and you kiss him again, short and sweet and meaningful.

"I love you, too, Wally Clark." Then, completely off-topic and far less romantic: "Do you wanna come with me when I stalk Simon's date for Maddie?"

Tires screech as Wally's brain comes to a full stop. Sorry, what was that? "Wait, Mads wants you to follow Simon?"

"Oh yeah, she's liked him for ages, but he never seems interested so...you know...she doesn't wanna risk the friendship."

"Jesus Christ." Wally looks at you, totally serious when he sighs with the exasperation of an ignored parent, "You know, I've told him, like, a thousand times to just talk to her." A helpless shrug, "He never listens."

‗•‗

Several days later, when you aren't looking, Wally steals the jacket you stole from Jake. Does terrible things to it before throwing it in Jake's face the following day.

Wally replaces the jacket with his letterman and has never been prouder of himself when he sees you slip it on without question.

fin.

☄️___________________________

also on AO3!

Order Up! MASTERLIST

if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Marshmallow Miles.

a cutie-smut-lite oneshot wherein Wally wants to celebrate your birthday away from Split River. Because he can.

[bigenergy777]

What about axel x shy!reader who's best friends with Robby and Miguel and she's one of the best fighters? Let's just say after the big competition, shy!reader friends/dojo, feels bad about her being left out being single so all the dojos are having a goodbye party (no alcohol for me), exchanging numbers to hang out in the future, thankfully shy!reader made new friends. Shyreader friends/dojo took the title as the matchmakers and they're happy seeing axel and shy!reader talking but later they're making out steamy, not surprising axel has a HUGE crush on shy!reader obviously they're gonna date sooner or later. Then unknowingly to everyone, axel and shyreader are doing smut, just Missionary.

The next day, when shyreader friends worried about her and found her, wondering where she went last night but later realized they caught her doing the walk of shame. Just fluff

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 | axel kovacevik × fem!reader

summary | after the sekai taikai, at a party, your friends try to set you up, and they succeed. later, you and axel share an intimate moment. your friends catch you both, teasing you about the obvious connection between you

warnings | shy!reader, fluff, teasing, embarrassment, smut, explicit content, p in v, protected sex

word count | 2.2 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The Sekai Taikai was over. Everyone was exhausted, some with bandaged knuckles and others with bruises they wore with pride. But for the first time in a long while, dojos, rivalries, and differences didn’t matter. It was a celebration.

The farewell party was held in a large hall inside the hotel where many teams were staying. The music played at a moderate volume, and fighters exchanged phone numbers, promising to keep in touch.

You were there, leaning against the wall with a bottle of water in your hands. Your shyness had kept you on the sidelines of many interactions, but thanks to Robby and Miguel, you had managed to befriend several competitors from other dojos. Even so, you knew they were keeping an eye on you.

"It’s an injustice," Sam whispered to Miguel, watching you with a smug smile. "How is she the only one still single?"

"I know, I know," Miguel responded dramatically. "She’s strong, beautiful, and adorably shy. If I didn’t have you, Sam, I’d kidnap her."

"Don’t start," Robby huffed, crossing his arms. "But yeah, this has to change."

"Who’s the lucky guy?" Hawk asked, joining the conversation with a mischievous grin.

Miguel glanced around and smirked. "I think the lucky guy already found her."

Everyone turned their heads and saw Axel Kovacevic walking toward you.

You didn’t notice your friends' stares, only the presence beside you. When you turned, you found Axel wearing his Iron Dragons jacket, his hair slightly messy.

"Aren’t you bored standing here alone?" he asked in his usual relaxed tone.

"I’m not alone," you murmured, gripping your water bottle. "My friends are here."

Axel smirked. "But they’re not here."

You shot him a shy glance before looking away. It was incredible how Axel, who had a reputation for being cold and serious, relaxed so much when talking to you.

"It was a good tournament," you finally said.

"It was. Especially because I got to see you fight."

Your cheeks warmed, your heart beating faster.

"Thanks…"

Axel ran a hand through his hair, as if choosing his words carefully.

"Do you want to get out of here? It’s a little… loud."

You nodded, and the two of you slipped away from the crowd, unaware of your friends' knowing looks.

The night air was cool, and the hotel’s pool reflected the city lights. You leaned against the railing while Axel rested beside you.

"I didn’t think you were this quiet."

"I didn’t think you were this talkative," you replied, glancing at him.

Axel chuckled. "Only when I want to impress someone."

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise up your neck.

"And who do you want to impress?"

Axel let out a low laugh before leaning slightly toward you.

"I think you already know."

Your breath caught in your throat. Axel didn’t look away, his closeness making you feel trapped in the best possible way.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Your response was barely a whisper.

"Yes…"

There were no more words. Axel pulled you in, his hands firm on your waist as his lips claimed yours in a kiss that started soft but quickly turned deeper. His hands slid down your back as yours clung to his jacket.

The kiss grew more intense, his body pressing gently against yours against the railing. His lips moved with a mix of urgency and tenderness, as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

To be honest, so had you.

"Well, well, well…"

Hawk’s voice made you both break apart instantly. When you turned, you saw Miguel, Robby, Sam, and several others watching you with triumphant smiles.

"I knew it was gonna happen!" Miguel exclaimed.

"We should start matchmaking as a business," Sam added.

Robby placed a hand on your shoulder with an amused smile. "How does it feel knowing we just created the best couple of the tournament?"

Still catching your breath, you glanced at Axel, who gave you a knowing smile.

"I guess it’s official," he said. "I’m now the luckiest guy in the Sekai Taikai."

And with your heart racing wildly, you couldn’t help but smile too.

After your friends' embarrassing (but inevitable) discovery, Axel intertwined his fingers with yours and whispered in your ear, "Let’s go somewhere else."

Your skin tingled at his low, husky voice, and though your cheeks burned, you nodded silently.

You walked through the hotel hallways until you reached his room. Axel slid his key card and pushed the door open, letting you step in first. You had barely taken a few steps when you heard the door close behind you and the click of the lock.

You turned to face him, and in less than a second, Axel was standing right in front of you.

"Tell me you want this," he murmured, his warm breath brushing your lips.

Your heart pounded, but the look in his eyes ignited something inside you.

"Yes," you whispered.

That was all he needed.

His lips crashed onto yours with pent-up hunger, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you against him. His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, his touch setting your skin on fire.

You walked backward until the back of your legs hit the bed. Axel took the opportunity to lean over you, his lips trailing a burning path along your jaw and down your neck.

"I’ve always wanted to do this," he murmured against your skin, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Your hands clutched at his shirt, and he understood immediately. With a smirk, he pulled it off effortlessly, revealing his toned torso. His dark eyes roamed over you before he kissed you again, this time with an intensity that made it clear he had no intention of stopping.

His fingers found the buckle of your belt and unfastened it without hesitation, sliding your pants down. His hands traveled back up your thighs and stopped at the edge of your panties.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his warm breath brushing against your ear. Do you want this?

"Yes..." you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open under the fire of his gaze.

With a deep sound of satisfaction, Axel lay down and took off his pants and boxers, revealing his erection.

And when he approached again, his gaze left no doubt about his intentions. His fingers removed your shirt and bra in seconds, and soon both of you were completely naked in bed, with your bodies pressed against each other.

"Tell me I'm being careful," he said, his voice trembling with anticipation.

"You are" you whispered. "And don't stop".

The smile he gave you was so erotic that your thighs clenched tightly.

With one hand, Axel opened your legs, his fingers moving over your body. He brought you to his lips and kissed you in a place you had only dreamed he would kiss. And when his tongue emerged, the pleasure was so intense that your hips lifted off the bed uncontrollably.

"Axel…" you moaned, arching your hips in response.

The deep laugh he gave you was the perfect response. His lips and tongue devoted themselves to pampering you in that place until you felt your muscles tense. And before you could reach climax, his lips crashed against yours again, savoring the essence of your own pleasure.

"Ready?" he whispered between kisses.

"Yes... Yes..."

Axel took the time to look for a condom on his nightstand and put it on.

And with a softness you didn't expect, Axel entered you.

The pleasure was indescribable. They both moaned at the same time, your body trembling around his erection. The penetration was slow, his body moving inside until it stopped with the tip of his fingers against your navel.

"Mmm…" he murmured. "This is incredible".

And before you had the chance to respond, it started moving.

Each thrust was deep, both of them gasping every time their hips collided with yours. His fingers encircled your breasts, teasing them while his erection brushed against a spot inside you that sent waves of pleasure throughout your body.

The combination of pleasure and intensity was more than you could bear. With a muffled scream, you felt the climax approaching, and Axel needed nothing more to give you permission to reach pleasure. The sensation was so intense that your eyes closed uncontrollably, your body tensing around him.

Axel gasped, his fingers gripping your nipples tightly before quickening his movements. The pleasure grew between the two of you until Axel gasped with a deep sound, his body trembling over yours.

They both stayed like that, panting and smiling, their bodies still connected to each other.

Finally, Axel slid to the side, but without moving too far away from you. He cradled you in his arms and gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before murmuring:

"I'm glad it happened".

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. Axel had always been mysterious, but in this moment, he was just a normal guy, satisfied with his conquest.

And you didn't care about that. In fact, you felt like you had found your own trophy. After all, Axel Kovacevic was the most successful guy at Sekai Taikai, but you had been the first to conquer him. And, as you had imagined so many times, you had turned out to be his perfect reward.

The celebration would last beyond the Sekai Taikai. And with his arm around your waist, you knew Axel wouldn't let you go so easily.

You had conquered him.

And he had also won you over.

Soon you start to feel exhausted, and your breathing begins to calm down.

"Are you staying here tonight?" Axel whispers, his voice soft and calm.

"Yes. Why not?" you murmur, smiling.

"Because, as far as I know, all our friends are in the same hotel. And I would like to spend a little more time here, with the most incredible guy at the Sekai Taikai..."

Axel caresses your cheek with his fingers, and you smile against his chest.

"That sounds perfect".

And the two of them stayed like that, embraced, enjoying the silence until they fell into a deep sleep.

The morning sun filtered through the hotel curtains as you woke up, feeling a warm weight around your waist. You blinked and turned your head slightly, finding Axel still asleep beside you, his arm wrapped around you possessively.

The memory of the previous night made heat rise to your cheeks. You couldn’t believe it had actually happened.

Carefully, you slid his arm away and got out of bed, fumbling for your clothes. You managed to get dressed and, with your heart pounding, opened the door to his room, praying no one would see you sneaking back to yours.

You weren’t that lucky.

“There you are!”

You froze. In front of you stood Miguel, Robby, Sam, and Hawk, their expressions ranging from relief to pure amusement.

“Where were you last night?” Sam asked, crossing her arms.

“You worried us,” Robby added, though his tone suggested he already had his suspicions.

“Wait, wait…” Hawk narrowed his eyes, then glanced down at your slightly rumpled clothes, your hair a bit messier than usual, and the guilty expression on your face. A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. “No. Freaking. Way.”

Miguel caught on instantly, his hands flying to his head. “Are you…?!”

Your face burned. “N-No…” You tried to deny it, but the way Hawk and Miguel exchanged looks before bursting into laughter didn’t help at all.

“Oh my God, this is the best thing that’s ever happened,” Hawk said between laughs. “Axel? It has to be Axel!”

“AXEL?!” Robby’s eyes widened before he adopted his protective older-brother stance. “What the hell?”

“We knew this would happen sooner or later!” Sam grinned victoriously, as if this confirmed her matchmaking skills.

“Guys, shut up!” you protested, wishing the earth would swallow you whole.

“Why?” Miguel asked with a teasing smile. “Are you afraid Axel will hear us?”

At that very moment, the door behind you opened, and a large hand rested on the frame.

“What’s going on here?”

Everyone fell silent as Axel appeared, his hair tousled, shirtless, and looking utterly confused. His eyes landed on you and then on the others, and as soon as he put the pieces together, he let out a small scoff.

“Seriously?”

Hawk was the first to break the silence with a dramatic scream. “I KNEW IT!!”

Miguel and Sam burst into laughter immediately, while Robby groaned, rubbing his face in exasperation.

“I’m going to kill you,” he muttered under his breath, glaring at Axel.

“Too late,” Axel replied with a smirk before casually wrapping an arm around you, leaning against you as if this were the most normal thing in the world. “It’s official now.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I guess everyone knows now…”

“And we’ll never forget it!” Hawk declared, pulling out his phone. “I need to document this moment.”

“NO!”

And with that, the entire group erupted in laughter while you buried your face in Axel’s chest, unsure whether to laugh along or die of embarrassment.

But when he pressed a quick kiss to your hair, you knew that, in the end, it was all worth it.

[bigenergy777]

Night Nurse

Spooky Diaz x black!fem!OC (Callie)

Word count: 3.8k

Warning (s): 18+ minors gtfo, mentions of blood, suturing, idiots in absolute love, everybody’s fuckin. Awkward ending as always, barely passable Spanish (sorry). just absolute horniness, i was high when i wrote it so probably mistakes (I think that’s it probably idk)

Side note: okay y’all. It has been a long time but I am slowly creeping back into this. If she's rough bear with me it will get better lol

SHE SWERVED AND slid across the streets of Freeridge with her phone in one hand and a tight grip on the wheel with the other. She’s breaking a million laws right now, but there's no care in the world. “Where is he?! " She shouted, turning another corner. “He’s at my house. I’m fixing him. Calmaté.”

“Abuelita…”

She clicks her tongue. “He’s fine, drive safely. Por favor.” Abuelita says with a strict voice before hanging up. She tosses her phone on to the passengers seat and lets out a long exhale, she told herself she was not going to be at his beck and call anymore, that any sprawls he decided to get into she wouldn’t be there to sew him back up and yet here she is hunched over her steering wheel with her pedal to the medal on her way to save him again.

It was always like this: Callie was his night nurse. He’d sneak over, get patched up, spend the night, and disappear by morning. This was their routine for a few years until she confronted the young man about where they stood in their on-again, off-again relationship. An ultimatum had been dropped, one she knew she would lose, and she did.

“It’s either the Santos, or me.”

It wasn’t a wise threat to make this man choose between her and a life he had been a part of for so long. His father was a Santos, his abuelo was one, and his great-grandfather before that. He was a born and bred Santos, and he was going to die like that. And it was no surprise that he chose them. So, when the two parted ways, she decided not to tell him that she was moving to Brentwood, she didn’t know how to break it to him that she was not turning back, not even for him.

Callie finally arrives at the house and throws her car in park before she frantically gets out and almost trips over herself as she bolts to the front door, but when she tries to open it, she’s met with force and realization that the door is locked. “Abuelita?! En serio? Abre la puerta.”

“I didn’t need you slamming the door into the wall,” Abuelita shouts from inside.

She sighs. “I wouldn’t.”

The door swings open to show a petite older woman with a mischievous grin on her face. “Hola mi hija.” Abuelita greets with a big hug. “Where is he?” She whispers in hopes that he wouldn’t hear how concerned she was. “In the kitchen, I’m almost finished with him.” She says closing the door.

Abuelita leads as she follows closely behind with her heart in her hands when she passes the wall dividing the first floor into the kitchen, where Abuelita said he would be, he sits with his back turned to her and she notices a big bottle of tequila in one hand. He could feel her eyes on the back of his head, he could feel the worry radiating from her. Abuelita excuses herself into the silent tension so she could return to sewing up his gashes. She stands in the background watching, noticing bruises on his back and his arm and the dry blood on his ear.

She takes a step forward and swallows her fear of how bad the situation could be, it had to be bad enough for him to not even attempt to call her about it. She makes her way around to face him and her lips slightly part in shock. Abuelita was sewing up one of two deep gashes on his neck and chest, there’s blood smeared on his abdomen and hands, followed by bruises, a black eye with a cut next to his eyebrow. This is the worst she’d ever seen him. “Spooky…” She finally breathes and he shamefully looks up at her, the best he can, and the moment he winces she shakes her head and sits down to meet his eye level. His eyebrows furrowed when he noticed her eyes becoming glossy.

Abuelita does her best to finish as quickly as possible so the two could speak, she tightens her last loop of thread and clips off the rest, she places a gauze on top of the cuts on his neck and holds it down with tape. “Make sure you keep it clean,” She instructed. “And take amoxicillin for at least a week.”

“Where am I supposed to get that?” Spooky grunts. Abuelita grabs the bottle of alcohol off the table and takes a swig of it herself, wincing at the burn in her throat. “You’re the drug dealer.”

She excuses herself and ventures off to find more gauze for him to change when it’s time and the two are left alone. “What the fuck happened?” She finally croaks quickly wiping a tear that had slipped by. “I can’t tell you.”

She sucks her teeth. “Fuck you, you can’t tell me? Por que?”

Spooky sighs and takes a sip of his drink, she sits back and crosses her arms, awaiting an answer. “I just can’t, why can’t you trust that?”

 As a reflex she reaches for the rubbing alcohol and cotton pads, she becomes his night nurse once again as she disinfects any small wounds that Abuelita could’ve possibly missed. The room is silent again as she cleans him up, she does so nervously, feeling those low eyes on her. “Stop.”

“Que?” He smirks slightly knowing exactly what it is. “You’re looking at me, I can feel it.” She gripes and it causes his smile to widen with mischief. “¿No puedo mirarte?”

She rolls her eyes. “I never said that.”

“But you did.” He quickly replied. Callie huffs at him and tosses the cotton pad in the garbage can next to her, she stands as well as her wobbly legs will allow and begins to work on the bloody mess of his eyebrow. Spooky basks in her calming presence and the beautiful scent of her perfume draws another smile from his lips. He looks up at her and she freezes. “Bruh, close your eyes.”

“Okay.” He obeys but it was only moments later when he looks up at her again and she sucks her teeth. “Would you like rubbing alcohol in your eye?”

He shakes his head and finally closes his eyes long enough for her to get him together. His palms are itching to touch her, any part of her. “So, who’s the lucky hyna that gets to take care of you?” Asked Callie who had a hint of jealousy in that tone of hers. He chuckles knowingly and gently pulls at her shirt. “Sit.”

Callie scrunches up her face ready to bite with a sassy comment, but she’s quickly shut down when he pulls her shirt with a little more force, having her feet to shuffle toward him. “Sit here.” He mumbles looking down at his lap. “Spooky…” She warns but he’s not listening. “¿Por favor, cariño? I’m in pain.” He pouts.

Against her better judgment, she gives in to him and swings one leg over his lap, she carefully lowers herself down onto him and he sighs with relief when she does so. “I’m almost done,” Callie mutters, trying her best to not look at his eyes. She cups his chin and tilts his head up slightly so she could get to the cut on his bottom lip. Spooky hisses when she rubs at his lip. “How have you been?” He asks and she shrugs in response. “Am I getting the silent treatment?”

She shrugs again.

“She set me up.” He blurts out, now that gets Callie’s attention. “Cuchillos came to me, saying I was right about nineteenth street, said to set up a meeting, we’ll give them one of our blocks. Next thing I know I wake up in a fucking dog cage…gun to my head.”

Callie swallows and remains quiet as she continues her job. “So, I gotta lay low,” Says Spooky. She finally makes eye contact with him, and she fights her urge to smile while gazing into those chocolate pools of his, she notices his eyes slightly darting all over her face, lingering on her lips longer than anywhere else before they crawl back up to her iris.

She clears her throat and looks away. “I’m… I’m staying somewhere for a while; you can kick it with me.”

“You don’t…” He begins to protest but she shushes him. “Lo sé, estás bien.”  Her fingers have a mind of their own when they ghost over his skin, temptation was right in front of her like a stack of Gold to a thief. “Spooky… there’s something…”

Abuelita interrupts abruptly, “I have a little bit of amoxicillin for you, mi hijo.” She smirks seeing the two air-headed love birds blush with embarrassment as Callie removes herself from his lap. “Mhm.”

Callie snatches the medication and avoids eye contact. “Gracias, abuelita.”

“Mhm.”

+++

THE NEXT AFTERNOON Callie finds herself pacing back and forth after receiving a text message from Spooky informing her that he had to handle a few more things before he can go off grid. She checked her phone constantly for any update, but she was left with nothing. She attempts to take it off her mind with some cleaning and packing— getting ready to leave Freeridge behind.

It helps the time pass, she’s getting her things in order, when the ding of her doorbell commands her attention, her head pokes from around the corner, she’s in the middle of finishing the kitchen when she tiptoes toward the door. “Who is it?” Asks Callie as brave as can be.

“Soy yo, cariño.” Spooky’s familiar voice says, which gives her relief as she quickly unlocks the door. She straightens herself up as if she wasn’t on her toes all day and opens the door nonchalantly. “Hey.”

She stifles a groan when she sees him in his uniform as she liked to call it— his long-sleeved flannel drapes over a white top, shorts that reached his knees and the infamous white socks that stretched to meet with the hem of his pants. There are times when she will make fun of him for it, but often he did look hot in his attire.

Spooky invites himself inside and is immediately bombarded by countless boxes, he frowns at the writing on some of them— packed up items of hers like she had a plan of her own. “So…”

 “I’m just doing… spring… cleaning?”

Spooky’s shoulders bounce as a deep chuckle leaves his lips. “It’s summer.”

Callie bites her lip to hold in her laugh, it was a stupid lie. “¿A dónde vas?”  

She plays with the ring on her finger. “Brentwood.”

His face becomes serious. “You weren’t going to tell me?”

She swallows hard as her demeanour becomes similar to that of a child who’s in trouble for breaking something. “I was going to,” Callie begins to explain, “But we had just gotten into that stupid little fight, and if we’re being honest, I don’t know who I am to you. I mean, we fuck, we take care of each other, you.. you look at me like I’m the fucking sunshine and you still chose the Santos. And I understand, that it’s your life-“

“I’m out-“

Callie continues to ramble, “And I understand they’re your familia— wait, what? Out?”

Spooky smiles slightly, taking a few steps closer to her and she suddenly is feeling small under his gaze, intimidating yet so soft for her. “I handled everything with 19th street this morning they’ve agreed to stop their bullshit, work with the Santos, not against.”

“And Cuchillos just… let you?”

His nostrils flared. “Handled her too.”

Callie knew Spooky well enough to know that handling 19th street and handling Cuchillos were two different things, she’s just another teardrop tattoo under his eye. He takes her hands in his own. “After I found out what she did to my dad, to my brother … his friends. Enough was enough. There’s more to life than this and I want to see it… with you.”

Her eyes widen slightly at his confession. “I want the white picket fence type shit; I want to take our kids to school and pick ‘em up. Can’t do that if I don’t tighten up. Plus, Abuelita made sure I know how stupidI would be if I didn’t tell you how I feel.”

Callie is stunned into silence; her jaw is slack as nothing but air comes out. She reaches up, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. “You feeling okay?” She giggled. Spooky sucks his teeth and takes back her hand to kiss her fingertips. “I am feeling okay.”

“So, what are we doing?”

“Well, I will follow you to Brentwood, if I can.”

Callie’s heart thumps in her chest. “I mean someone has to carry these boxes and drive the U-Haul.”

He leans down brushing his lips against hers. “I can do that.”

+++

AS THE WEEKS fly by the two were busy unpacking boxes and settling in a new environment, Spooky’s scars were healing nicely, and not just the ones on the outside. Living with Callie was everything he had ever pictured— to be greeted in the morning with her infectious smile and carried into the night by her sparkling eyes, it was a dream.

Spooky enjoyed putting those keys in the zigzagged hole and was welcomed by her loving presence alone. As he pulls into the driveway, he can hear her music from outside and shakes his head. He throws the car in park and jogs to the door with eagerness, he unlocks it and steps inside. He chuckles when his ears are bombarded with Megan Thee Stallion knowing she was probably somewhere in the house twerking.

Callie shouts along to the lyrics of her latest song, Bigger in Texas. He shakes his head. “Mami, you’ll make us all hard of hearing. Alexa, turn it down.”

He hears her shriek from the kitchen. “Don’t turn down my music, pendejo.” She gripes. “They’ll boot us out this neighbourhood.” He laughs. Callie tilts her head up and he leans in giving her a quick kiss. “Good day?”

“Great day.” She answers. The love in the air was full and pure. He watches her in awe as she walks over to her phone to choose a different song. “I got something for you, hold on.”

Callie huffed, choosing a slow song once it started, she put the phone back down and turned back to focus on the wine glasses she was putting away, when Spooky walked back in with flowers, snacks and balloons. She smiles. “I think you need a little break; we've been working on the house a lot.”

She was about to protest until he pulled out a bottle of wine, she turned around, grabbing a glass off the counter happily reaching for the bottle in his hands. She hurries to open the bottle and pour herself a glass, she closes her eyes briefly, savouring the taste and smoothness of it with the slight buzz quickly following. “Thank you,” Callie purrs eyeing him up and down. “How was it with Cesar?”

He slowly shakes his head. “I don’t know what else to do. Pinche bastardo, he’s so stubborn.”

“Spooky, baby, he will come around.”

He huffs. “And what if he doesn’t?”

She bites her lip, she has no answer for that, Cesar seemed very headstrong on staying with the Santos despite Spooky taking the beating for both of them to get out of it. Callie tried her best to understand, he was a teenager who possibly felt lost and confused, someone who was just as stuck as Spooky used to be. “He will.” She reassured him with a hand on his cheek as her thumb brushes over his skin.

Just the tone in her voice makes his shoulder less tense. He gently grabs her wrist and kisses her fingers, smoothly putting her hand on the back of his neck, he pulls her in, his other hand around her waist. She giggles softly, taking one more sip of her wine before putting the glass back down on the counter. She moves in even closer and rests her head on his chest.

The two sway to the slow tune, Back To The River. She closes her eyes and hums to herself lost between the music and his heartbeat. There’s pressure on the top of her head where he rests his own, “I have something to tell you.” Says Spooky.

“Mm.”

“I don’t think… I want to be called Spooky anymore.”

Callie’s eyes dart from left to right, she’s been calling him by his street name forever. She pulls back and looks up at him, and reaches for his face, she gently pulls him to her level. “I’m okay with that, if it will make you happy, I can do that for you.” She kisses him. “Oscar,”

Kiss.

“Emilio,”

Kiss.

“Diaz.” He groans when she kisses him once more and she lingers, they’re lips move in sync in a messy, passionate kiss. Her nails gently scratch at his scalp while his hands roam her waist and further down to her ass, they teasingly grip and squeeze at her supple flesh. The kiss goes deeper when his tongue brushes against her lip and soon meets hers. He picks her up and drops her on the counter. They hungrily go at it until she pulls away breathlessly saying one word. “Upstairs.”

He laughs, taking her off the counter, she koala hugs him with a huge smile on her face as she’s carried up the steps. She’s reluctant to come off once they reach the room, he playfully drops her on the mattress, and she laughs when she’s engulfed by the cloud-soft mattress and the fluffy comforter. The bed dips under her as he joins in the fun, he’s between her legs with each hand beside her head. She cups his face again.

Callie sighs. “I love you.”

Oscar nudged his nose at her own. “I love you more, princesa.”

Their lips meet again. It’s hot and heavy when their hands eagerly remove clothing from each other. His lips wander down to her neck, trail between her collar bone and slide down the valley of her beautiful breasts. His tongue flicks her nipple, it sits perked up like a Hershey kiss chocolate. He takes it into his mouth simultaneously flicking and sucking on her tit.

She’s unable to process the pleasure when his hand slides between her legs, his middle finger finding itself between her slit and slowly rubbing her up and down. “Mmm.”

He drops her breast out of his mouth, a pop and a gentle kiss after. He slips his finger inside and watches as her expressions change. “Tu es linda mucho.” He groans adding another finger inside her creamy cove. Her chest rises and falls with each slow pump he gives her. He moves over to her other breast giving it the same treatment as the other. Her head falls to the side. “Fuck…” She breathes barely above a whisper. Her body begins to heat up, her thoughts fizzing out. Her lips part slightly as his fingers dig deeper. Her mind draws a blank when his warm mouth removes itself from her tit and quickly latches onto her clit. “Ohhh.”

Oscar hums with pleasure, feeling her begin to squirm. “Baby, oh shit…”

Callie’s fingers and toes tingle with satisfaction, her thighs slowly closing around his head, but they’re stopped by his wide shoulders. Oscar sucks on her clit and skillfully maneuvers his fingers inside her tightening hole. “Papito, eso es tan bueno.”

Her moans go straight to his already hard dick, throbbing and begging to go inside her when she finally says, “I’m gonna cum,” She cries inching away from him, but he quickly pulls her to him. Her eyes cross and soon she’s dripping down his beard.

He kisses up to her bellybutton and licks his way to her neck. A moan gets caught in her throat, she’s not even allowed a second to collect herself before he is gently nudging the tip at her entrance, and she welcomes every curve and vein. “Fuuuuuck,” She drags out and Oscar kisses her chin. “Lo tienes, si?” Callie nods and whimpers in response. His thickness was stretching her out in every which way, he pulls back a bit and re-enters her heat. Her eyebrows knit together.

Oscar moves his hips back and forth, slamming into her slow and hard. Her eyes roll to the back of her skull, and she lets out the shakiest breath. Her nails dig into his muscular biceps as he rocks her body, her legs wrapped around him.

“Ay, papitooo.” She whines while he relentlessly pounds her pussy. It’s too good to speak, too good to even shriek, and she’s lying there taking everything he’s giving her. It’s building up in the pit of her stomach that blissful orgasm inches closer when she feels his lower stomach rub against her clit. Her lips are stuck in a permanent O' and her nails dig deeper.

Oscar moans, she’s soft and slick and coating his dick with her pleasure. “Give it to me, I got you.”

Callie’s body stiffens and her toes crack as a wave of pleasure washes over her entirely. His name falls off her lips like a broken record until she can no longer speak. Her juices are dripping down his shaft. “There it is.”

“Pendejo…” She moans with a smile. “Yeah?” He chuckles. “Gírate. Turn around.”

But Callie wasn’t moving fast enough for him, he flips her like a pancake and tugs her ankles. “Up.”

As she adjusts on her knees she can hear him say, “Too fuckin’ pretty.” She gasps when he’s quickly back inside her, the sound of skin slapping drowns out the music from downstairs. She’s a whimpering, babbling mess under him. “That’s it, that’s iiiiit, yeees.”

Oscar feels himself twitching inside her with every stroke she’s throbbing around him. He gets lost in it, savouring every piece of it even the sound of how wet she is. “Fuck, baby.” He chokes out. Now it’s his turn to feel that tingle in his toes, the tightening of his balls. “I’m cumming babyyy,”

That’s all he needed to hear, a few more hard pumps and he’s spilling inside her, coating her walls with his warmth. “Mmmm.” Callie purrs.

Oscar drags his nose between her shoulder blades and in the crook of her neck, his breathing tickles her skin and she laughs. “Boy, get off me.”

“You sure?” He slaps her ass and pulls out of her, still half hard. Callie drops on the bed and sighs, Oscar lies right next to her, kissing her shoulder and lightly licking her sweat. “We gotta go break the shower in too.”

“Oscar,” She warned. “Estoy bromeando, kind of.”

The room is so quiet that Callie begins to drift off. “Cal…”

She mumbles tiredly, “Sí papito.”

“Thank you, for being there.”

She smiles.

“I’ll always be there.”

If you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic Comments are appreciated. See you in the next one

Tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb

who might be interested: @blkbutterfly816 @miyahmaraj @librarian1002 @bigenergy777 @educatorsareslutstoo

[bigenergy777]

𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝙼𝙰𝚄

𝚂𝙼𝙰𝚄 & 𝙵𝙸𝙲 - 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊 #2

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢/𝚗 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚟𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚗.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚍𝚗𝚒, 𝚜𝚎𝚡 (𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕-𝚖, 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢)

𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 25 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚍

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚔 <3

𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎… 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

It had been a rollercoaster these past few months. The kind that had shaken both of you to the core. But now, as the dust settled, things were finally starting to feel like they could go back to normal. The accusations against Rafe had been false, his name cleared, his family in custody, and the tension that had been hanging between you both for days had dissolved into a sense of relief.

Tonight, the whole crew—JJ, Kie, Sarah, John B, Pope, Cleo, Topper, and Kelce—were out at a local restaurant celebrating the victory. You and Rafe sat at the center of the table, everyone laughing, joking, and teasing each other like they always did.

It felt like old times. A sense of normalcy returning to your life. But there was an undercurrent of emotion inside you. You couldn’t stop glancing at Rafe, your heart swelling with love and guilt all at once. Love because of the way he looked at you, his eyes soft and full of warmth. Guilt because, for a moment, you had doubted him, and that thought made your stomach turn. And then, there was the quiet simmering rage toward his mother and stepfather—the people who had caused so much turmoil in his life.

“Hey, you two!” JJ said, raising his glass of beer in the air. “How about a toast to clearing your name and getting back to doing whatever it is you two do best?”

The table erupted in cheers. You clinked your glass with Rafe’s, your fingers brushing his as you held it up. Rafe flashed you a grin, his expression playful but tender.

“You sure?” You teased, trying to sound casual. “It’s a completely common thing, getting to celebrate clearing your name after being accused of… well, you know. Nothing to cheers over." The group laughs at your sarcasm.

Rafe smirked, leaning in closer. “I’ll take any excuse to drink with you, babe,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You smiled, the warmth of his words melting any lingering doubts. Both of you moving in to share a kiss. It deepening quickly as you forget where you are.

“Okay, okay,” Sarah interjected interrupting you, her voice a little too loud as she waved her hand dramatically. “Now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way, let’s talk about something important—who’s going to win in a rematch between Rafe and JJ in pool? Place your bets!”

“Definitely not Rafe,” JJ said, shaking his head. “He’s got no chance against me.”

Rafe laughed, an almost mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re delusional, JJ. I’ll be taking that victory home, no problem.”

John B grinned. “This is gonna be good. I wanna see this.”

The whole table erupted into laughter as the conversation turned to playful jabs about past pool games and who had the best shot. But all the while, your gaze kept drifting back to Rafe. He was laughing, joking, but you could see the subtle relief in his posture—he was no longer carrying the weight of false accusations on his shoulders.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been lost in your thoughts when Cleo nudged you gently. “You okay? You’ve been staring at Rafe all night,” she said with a sly smile.

Your cheeks flushed slightly. “Yeah, just… a lot on my mind. I guess I’m just happy things are back to normal.”

“I can tell,” she said with a wink. “Just don’t get too lost in him. We’ve got the whole night ahead of us.”

You laughed, a little too loudly, and nodded. “I’ll try not to.”

But deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection every time your eyes met his. It was like all the pieces were falling back into place. The stress, the doubt, the fear—it was all fading, and the relief was almost too much to bear. You still hated his mother and stepfather for everything they put him through, for trying to tear you two apart. But tonight, it didn’t matter. You had Rafe, and that was enough.

The night continued, the laughter and joking never stopping. At one point, Topper even stood up and did an exaggerated version of an old dance move, which had everyone in stitches. Rafe, grinning from ear to ear, leaned over to you and whispered, “Can you believe we’re here, celebrating this?”

You took a deep breath, the weight of everything lifting off your shoulders. “I’m just glad we’re here. Together.”

“And I’m not going anywhere,” he replied, his voice full of sincerity.

Later that night, as you and Rafe walked back to your car, hand in hand, the world felt lighter. You felt a burst of anticipation growing inside you. There were things you wanted to say, things you needed to say. Emotions that had been bottled up too long. The guilt, the anger, the frustration—it was all about to be released.

The house was eerily quiet, empty except for you and Rafe. Noelle was staying over at your cousin’s house for the night, and that gave you the perfect opportunity to finally let loose and express everything you had been holding in. Tonight, it was just the two of you—and nothing else mattered.

As soon as Rafe unlocked the front door, you didn’t hesitate. You shoved the door open, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and pulled him inside. His surprised expression shifted into one of excitement as you pressed your lips to his, silencing any questions with the intensity of your kiss.

He responded immediately, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. You backed him up into the living room, never once breaking the kiss, your hearts pounding in sync. He stumbled slightly, and you took the opportunity to push him down onto the couch, his back hitting the cushions with a soft thud.

Rafe looked up at you, breathless and grinning. “You sure know how to make an entrance,” he said, his voice rough.

You smiled wickedly, running your fingers through his hair. “Just getting started,” you whispered, your voice low with a mix of affection and desire.

Rafe’s grin widened, his hands trailing down to your hips, pulling you to straddle him. “Well, I’m all yours,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with intent.

You leaned down, hands resting on his thighs, pressing your lips against his again, this time slower, more deliberate. The world outside felt so distant, the only thing that mattered was him—the way he kissed you back, the way his hands gripped you as if he never wanted to let go. You had so much to say, so much to release, but for now, this moment—this feeling—was enough.

You pulled back slightly, your forehead resting against his as you caught your breath. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” you admitted quietly. “About how much I want you right now.”

Rafe’s chest rose and fell with the same urgency, his eyes meeting yours with that familiar intensity. “I’ve been thinking about it too,” he confessed, his fingers trailing down your spine.

You smiled softly, your heart fluttering. There was so much to say, so much to share, but right now, this was all that mattered. You let the weight of the moment wash over you, savoring the connection between you two, the undeniable spark that had never really faded.

“You’re mine,” you murmured, claiming him in a way that felt like both a promise and a declaration a reminder of everything you've gone through recently.. “And I���m not letting go.”

Rafe’s lips curled into a satisfied grin as he pulled you closer. “Never wanted you to.”

Rafe’s eyes never left you as you stood up, your fingers working quickly to remove your clothing. The look of surprise in his eyes shifted to something deeper, something primal. When you slipped off your last piece, standing before him only in your lingerie and heels, his breath caught.

“You… didn’t tell me about this part,” he said, his voice husky with desire, his eyes darkening as they roamed over your body. He looked like he wanted to reach out, touch you, but you held up a hand, signaling for him to wait.

You took a slow step toward him, a wicked grin curling on your lips. “This night is all about you, Rafe,” you said, your voice low and seductive. “About your win.”

Rafe’s breath hitched, and he nodded without a word, his hands already moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. You watched him intently as he stripped away his clothes, leaving him only in his boxers. His chest was bare, his muscles rippling with every movement, and the sight of him made your pulse quicken.

As he finished, he started to stand up, but you quickly stepped forward, a firm hand on his chest, pushing him back down into the couch. His eyes searched yours, confused but trusting, and you could see the heat building in him.

“No,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “This is about you tonight. You sit here and let me take care of everything. I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me.”

He leaned back, his eyes locking with yours, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “I like the sound of that,” he murmured, but there was something in his gaze that told you he was willing to let you take control, to let you set the pace for the night.

This wasn’t just about passion—it was about reclaiming what was rightfully his, what was rightfully yours. It was about power, trust, and desire. And tonight, everything was going to be just as you wanted.

You took a deep breath, watching the fire in his eyes flicker as you stepped closer, ready to begin your celebration.

You drop to your knees in front of Rafe and run your hands up and down his thighs, until you reach all the way up and wrap your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them off.

As you pulled his boxers off, Rafe's eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with anticipation. You could see the tension in his body, the way his muscles flexed as he waited for your next move. You slowly trailed your hands back down his thighs, feeling the softness of his skin, the gentle curve of his muscles.

"Fuck, I've missed this," Rafe whispered, his voice low and husky.

Your fingers danced across his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Rafe's breath caught in his throat as you leaned in, your lips brushing against the tip of his erection. He let out a low moan, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the sensation.

"You have no idea how much I've missed it," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You wrapped your lips around him, taking him deep into your mouth. Rafe's hands instinctively went to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided you. But you were in control, setting the pace, determining the depth and the pressure.

"Oh, god, yes," Rafe moaned, his hips rising to meet you. "Just like that."

As you moved up and down, Rafe's moans grew louder, his body tensing with pleasure. You could feel his thighs trembling with restraint. You reached up, your hands cupping his balls, gently massaging them as you continued to suck.

"Fuck, you're going to make me come," Rafe warned, his voice strained.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his. "Not yet," you said, your voice firm.

Rafe's eyes narrowed, his face twisted in a mixture of pleasure and frustration. "You're killing me," he whispered.

You slowed your pace, teasing him with gentle licks and soft sucks. Rafe's eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with desire.

"Please," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please don't stop."

You smiled, your lips still wrapped around him. "I won't stop until you're begging for mercy," you replied, your voice husky.

Rafe's eyes flashed with excitement, and he leaned back, his hands falling to his sides as he let you take control. You could see the trust in his eyes, the knowledge that you were in charge, and he was yours to command.

As you continued to suck, Rafe's moans grew louder, his body tensing with pleasure. You could feel his thighs trembling with restraint, his hips rising to meet you.

"Oh, god, yes," Rafe whispered, his voice strained. "I'm going to come."

You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his. "Come for me," you said, your voice husky.

Rafe squeeze his eyes shut and he let out a low groan as he came, his cum filling your mouth. You swallowed, feeling the warmth spread through you, and then you stood up, a smile on your face.

Rafe's eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with desire. "You're amazing," he whispered.

You reached down, your hands slipping under the hem and pulled off your panties. Rafe's eyes widened as you straddled him, your legs wrapping around his hips. Unhooking your bra as you settled in his lap.

"I'm not done with you yet," you said, your voice firm.

Rafe's hands went to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as you lined him up to your entrance. You could feel his cock, already hard again and ready, and you sank down onto him, feeling him fill you.

"Oh, god," Rafe whispered, his eyes closing as you began to bounce on his cock.

You leaned forward, your hands on his chest, and rode him, feeling the pleasure build inside you. Rafe's hands went to your breasts, his fingers tweaking your nipples, and you let out a low moan. You let your hair fall around you, creating a curtain of privacy around the two of you. Rafe's eyes locked with yours, his gaze burning with desire, and you could feel the connection between you, the spark of attraction that seemed to grow stronger with every passing moment. The one that's always been there but reignited again after everything.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Rafe whispered, his eyes opening to lock with yours.

You smiled, your eyes never leaving his. "You feel so fucking good," you replied, your voice husky.

"Oh, god," Rafe's voice strained. "You're going to make me come again."

As you continued to ride him, Rafe's hands went back to your hips, his fingers guiding you, helping you set the pace. You could feel the pleasure building inside you, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you came.

As you rode him, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building inside you until it was almost unbearable. You leaned forward again, your lips brushing against Rafe's ear, and whispered, "I'm going to come."

"Come for me," Rafe whispered, his voice strained. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

As you reached the peak, your body surrendered to the intense sensation, shuddering with release. Rafe's hands grasped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he felt your inner muscles contract around him.

In the same moment, Rafe's body began to stiffen, his cock surging with renewed arousal. You felt him twitching inside of you.

"Come with me." The words sparked a fierce response, and Rafe's body erupted in a frenzy of pleasure, his cum filling you as he reached his own climax.

The dual release created a whirlpool of sensation, a swirling vortex of pleasure that swept you both up in its depths. Your bodies moved in perfect sync, the rhythmic contractions of your inner muscles milking Rafe's cock as he emptied himself into you. The sensation was almost overwhelming, a delicious overload of pleasure that left you both breathless and trembling with aftershocks.

As you both settle from your highs, Rafe's hand strokes your lower back as his head hangs off the back of the couch as he tries to catch his breath. Your hands sit on his shoulders and your thumbs draw circles on sweat slicked skin.

"Y'know, this isn't just my win, right?" Rafe asks as he lifts his head back up, looking into your eyes.

"What do you mean?" You ask through a curious smile.

"You've been so strong through all of this, whether you think so or not, this is your win too baby. You didn't have to end up here with me like this. I want to do something for you too." Rafe said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

He lifts you off of him standing up and setting you back down on the couch on your knees, your upper half hanging on the back.

As Rafe's words hung in the air, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You looked back at him, your eyes locking with his, and saw the intensity burning within them. "You're going to fuck me again?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe's smile was wicked, his eyes gleaming with desire. "I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before," he promised, his hand stroking his cock with a slow, deliberate rhythm. "You've been so strong for No, taking care of her and putting her needs before your own. Tonight, is about you to. Tonight, you get to let go and just feel."

You felt a surge of excitement at his words, your body already responding to the promise of pleasure. "I want that," you whispered, your voice husky with desire.

Rafe's eyes flashed with heat, and he leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to give it to you," he whispered, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "I'm going to make you feel so good, you'll forget your own name."

As he spoke, his hand caressed your ass, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheeks and sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You felt yourself leaning back into his touch, your body arching towards him like a cat seeking attention.

"Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Rafe's laughter was low and husky, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, baby," he whispered, "You're gonna love this."

"Ah, fuck," Rafe growled, his voice low and husky, as he slipped his cock into you from behind. You felt him fill you, his thickness stretching you to the limit, and you couldn't help but moan in anticipation.

"Yes, yes, yes," you whispered, pushing back into him, urging him to start moving.

Rafe didn't need any further encouragement. He began to pound into you, his hips slamming into your ass with a relentless rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You felt yourself being driven forward, your upper body bending over the back of the couch as Rafe's hands grasped your hips, holding you in place.

Just as you were getting into the rhythm, Rafe's hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and straining your neck. You felt a surge of pain mixed with pleasure as you were forced to look back at him, your eyes locking with his.

"Look at me," Rafe growled, his eyes blazing with intensity. "I want to see your face when you come."

You couldn't help but obey, your eyes fixed on his as he continued to pound into you. His other hand reached around, his fingers rough and insistent as they rubbed your clit. You felt yourself building towards another climax, your body trembling with anticipation.

"Come on, baby," Rafe urged, his voice low and husky. "Come for me again."

You didn't need any further encouragement. As Rafe's fingers rubbed your clit, you felt yourself tumbling over the edge, your body shuddering with pleasure as you came for the second time. Your legs weakened, shaking beneath you as you felt Rafe's cum spill into you once again.

"Ah, fuck," Rafe groaned, his body stiffening as he came, his hips jerking forward in a final, spasmodic thrust. "Your pussy is so perfect, you're so hot...I couldn't hold back."

As he spoke, his hand released your hair, and you felt yourself collapse forward, your upper body slumping over the back of the couch. Rafe's arms wrapped around you, holding you in place as you both caught your breath, your bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasms.

"Fuck, that was good," Rafe whispered, his voice muffled against your ear. "You're so beautiful when you come."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction and pleasure wash over you.

As the last of the tremors subsided, Rafe gently lifted you up and laid you down on the couch, his body spooning yours as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt a sense of comfort and security wash over you, your body relaxing into his as you both caught your breath.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over you. It had been months since you'd felt this way, months since you'd felt like you could just let go and be yourself. But with Rafe, you felt like you could be vulnerable, like you could trust him to take care of you.

You snuggled deeper into his arms, feeling his warmth and his heartbeat against your back. His hand stroked your hair, gentle and soothing, and you felt your eyelids growing heavy.

"I'm so glad we're here again," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Rafe's arms tightened around you, holding you close. "Me too," he whispered back. "I've missed you so much."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you thought about how much you'd missed him too. But for now, you just wanted to be in this moment, to savor the feeling of being back in his arms.

As you lay there, you felt your body start to relax, your muscles unwinding as you let go of all the tension and stress of the past few months. Rafe's body was warm and comforting, his presence a balm to your frazzled nerves that came from everything.

Before you knew it, you were drifting off to sleep, your body intertwined with Rafe's as you both lay on the couch. You felt safe and protected, like nothing could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms.

As you fell deeper into sleep, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. This was where you were meant to be, in Rafe's arms, surrounded by his love and his warmth. You knew that tomorrow would bring its own set of challenges, still having to rebuild from the turmoil his family caused, but for now, you just wanted to bask in the happiness of this moment.

And as you slept, Rafe's arms held you close, his body wrapped around yours like a shield. You knew that he would always be there for you, to protect you and to love you, no matter what. And with that knowledge, you felt your heart fill with joy and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

a/n- a couple of more posts before I take my break. Clearly this is hard for me to leave but I hate unfinished business. Thank you all for your support <3

Taglist + some moots <3 - @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @megiiite @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @angelicameron @maybankslover @etheraltides @rafesheaven @cameronsprincess @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @xdaughterofpersephonex @leather-n-velvet @mima116 @urbrunettebombshell @pogueprincesa @purplerose291 @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @starsmoonn @akobx @httpsdrewstarkey @anacamofficial @marleymarleymarleymarley @littlelamy @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @diasnohibng @slut-4-gojo @inthelibrarybtw @lillell467 @costalgirlyr @wtfisastiles @jjmaybankmylovee @slurpdew

[bigenergy777]

Unspoken Tension

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚗!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍

*𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚖𝚜*

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚍𝚖: 𝙷𝚎𝚢!! 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎!! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚃𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜!!

The heat of the party still buzzed under your skin as you walked toward Topper’s car, your heels clicking softly against the pavement. It was past 3 AM, and the air was thick with humidity, the scent of salt and alcohol lingering in the night. You had spent the evening dancing, laughing, pretending not to notice Rafe’s eyes on you.

It wasn’t new. He was always watching, always lingering just close enough to make his presence known. But when he finally approached you earlier that night, it had been the same as always—a sharp comment disguised as a joke, something about how “little Topper” was finally getting attention. You had just rolled your eyes and walked away.

Now, standing by the car, you hesitated. Kelce was already sprawled in the middle seat, and on the other side sat Rafe, arms crossed, staring at you with that unreadable expression.

“What am I supposed to do?” you asked, looking at Topper.

Before he could answer, Rafe shifted, leaning forward slightly. “Just sit on my lap,” he said, his voice smooth, his hand extended toward you like it was the simplest solution in the world.

Your breath caught.

You hated him. Or, at least, you told yourself you did. You had the biggest crush on him, mostly growing up, but that feeling never went away. What else never went away was his constant taunting. You hated the way he talked to you, the way he made you feel small, the way he had gone from the boy who once held your hand when you scraped your knee to the guy who made fun of your every move. And yet, you still felt the heat in your stomach every time he was near.

You exhaled sharply. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, his lips twitching like he was enjoying this.

Kelce snorted. “Come on, just sit down, we don’t have all night.”

You hesitated for a second longer, then scoffed under your breath. “Fine.”

Sliding into the car, you perched yourself carefully on Rafe’s lap, trying to put as much space between your body and his as possible. But it was pointless—his arm rested lazily on the back of the seat, his other hand coming down instinctively to your waist as Topper pulled onto the road.

You swallowed hard.

Rafe was warm, his chest firm against your back. Every breath he took pressed against you, and you could feel the rise and fall of it, the heat radiating from his skin.

“Relax,” he murmured, his lips just inches from your ear. “I don’t bite.”

You turned your head slightly, glaring at him over your shoulder. “Could’ve fooled me.”

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress. “You were ignoring me all night,” he said, his voice low, almost accusing.

You scoffed. “Maybe because you never have anything nice to say?”

For a second, something flickered in his expression. It was gone before you could place it. He smirked, tilting his head, his breath fanning across your skin.

“You’re really gonna act like you don’t like it?”

Your pulse stuttered.

“Like what?” you challenged.

“The attention,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes, shifting slightly, but that only made the situation worse—his hands gripped your hips to steady you, and you swore you felt his breath hitch.

“You’re delusional, Cameron,” you muttered.

His thumb brushed the curve of your waist, slow, deliberate. “Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe you’ve just been running from the truth.”

Your breath caught, and for once, you had nothing to say. He laughed softly and tighten his arm around your waist and you felt something poking beneath you. You looked back at Rafe, down, and back up only to see him staring back at you with that smirk that always annoyed you.

By this time Kelce had already passed out and Topper and Sarah were too wrapped up in each other in the front of the car, not paying attention to either of you.

"You sure you don't like the attention, Cameron?" you whisper to him.

He moves in closer to your face, his breath is hot against your ear, "I've always loved the attention from you, clearly."

As the car rolled on, the silence between you and Rafe grew heavier. His thumb never stopped tracing slow patterns on your waist, and you could feel the subtle tension building between you two. You had always told yourself you hated the way he treated you, the way he’d pick on you for no reason. But now, with him so close, his touch lingering just enough to send chills down your spine, you started to wonder if there was something more behind it.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the way his fingers seemed to burn into your skin and the way his hard on poked into your ass.

"Why are you doing this?" you finally blurted out, the words escaping before you could stop them.

He was silent for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line as he looked at you with a strange intensity. “Doing what?” His voice was barely above a whisper, his tone quieter than usual.

"Picking on me all these years... acting like you can’t stand me and then—" You cut yourself off, unsure of where this was going. “Then acting like this," motioning to his crotch.

Rafe’s gaze softened for just a second, before his usual smirk returned. But there was something different about it now. “Maybe I’ve always liked to get under your skin,” he said, leaning in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Guess it worked, huh?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the air suddenly thick with something you couldn’t quite name.

“You’ve always had a way of getting under mine,” you replied, your voice quieter than you meant it to be.

Rafe’s hand slid from your waist to your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine. “I think I’ve always liked you, you know,” he muttered, the words so casual that they almost felt like a lie. But there was no mistaking the look in his eyes now.

Your breath caught in your throat. “What are you saying?”

He hesitated, his eyes flicking to yours. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been a little... hard to read.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I guess, I don’t know how to do this. How to act around you when I’ve always felt like this.”

The words hung between you two, heavy and thick.

You swallowed hard, a mix of confusion and something else swirling inside you. "You’re serious?"

Rafe didn’t look at you right away. Instead, he stared out the window for a moment, like he was thinking through his next words carefully. When his eyes finally met yours again, they were more vulnerable than you’d ever seen them.

“Yeah," he said softly. "I’m serious. I’ve always been serious.”

You felt your heart race again, but this time, it wasn’t just from the tension. It was from the realization that maybe, just maybe, the feeling had been mutual all along.

"You've been a jerk for so long, Rafe," you said, your voice shaky. "Why didn't you just—"

He interrupted you with a quiet laugh, one that was more frustrated than amused. “I was trying to figure it out, okay? I didn’t know how to stop acting like a dumbass around you. And now I’m just... here. Still trying to figure it out.”

The car swerved slightly as Topper made a turn, breaking the intense moment. But you couldn’t shake the weight of what Rafe had just said. There was something raw in his words, something real. He held you close to keep concealing what was happening below.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say next, but in that silence, you realized something: Rafe had always been this way because he didn’t know how to handle the emotions he’d been hiding for so long. And now, they were out in the open.

Topper finally pulled up to Tannyhill, Sarah jumped out, waiting for Rafe. Neither of you have broken eye contact. You turn and open the car door, hopping out.

"I'm staying here tonight Top, see you tomorrow," you don't give him a second to answer before you pull Rafe out with you and slam the door shut, making your way to the homes entrance.

a/n: one of the requests I wanted to do before I took my break. I loved it too much to hold off on. *scheduled post*

tags + some moots 💗

@rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @maybankslover @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @percysley @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @diasnohibng @slut-4-gojo @akobx @jjmaybankmylovee @slurpdew @rafesheaven @cameronsprincess @littlelamy @inthelibrarybtw @frankoceanluvr11 @writingroom21 @v3n1ce-bxtch @pedrosprincessxo

[bigenergy777]

EXES BEST FRIEND — topper thornton x fem reader + rafe cameron x fem reader

summary: rafe is your ex boyfriend and you decide to get revenge on him by sleeping with his best friend topper at a party, but you didn’t expect him to walk in on you both…

warnings: 18+ MDNI ➾ consumption of alcohol, underage drinking, cuss words, smut, semi public sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, toxic!rafe, arguing, getting walked in on, yelling etc

MY MASTERLIST / RAFE MASTERLIST

you and rafe broke up three months ago after a two year long relationship. it was toxic to say the least, rafe was abusive and controlling and everything he did ruined your self esteem, until you finally gained the courage to dump him and move on.

earlier this week, you were invited to a figure 8 house party by a kook boy who was interested in one of your friends, who was also going, of course. now it’s the night of the party, and you and your friends managed to get a few pre drinks in at your house before heading over there.

you and your three friends tipsily stumble into the party hand in hand with each other as you laugh and head through the crowded house over to the kitchen, where you grab some more drinks to get the night properly started. all four of you had began to settle into the party with booze in your hands on the dance floor, dancing with each other and singing along to the songs playing.

as more time went by, the more alcohol entered your systems. one of your friends had somehow ended up making out with a boy in the middle of the crowd, and another friend was talking to a girl she recognized from high school, which left you and the last friend alone.

“wanna go get another drink?” you ask her, raising your voice over the booming music. “yeah” she says, grabbing your hand as the two of you make your way to the kitchen again. just as you grab another bottle from the crate and crack it open, you turn around and gasp at the sight of your ex boyfriend. “jesus…” you say, putting your hand on your chest as your friend stands beside you.

“hey y/n, what’s up” rafe says in a nice tone which makes you frown in suspicion. rafe couldn’t be nice if he tried to be, there’s always underlying tones to his voice, mainly sarcasm and pity.

“she’s fine, thank you.” your friend answers for you, knowing you didn’t have much to say to him. she shoots him a sarcastic smile which made him look at her and grin.

“oh, she don’t talk anymore, huh?” rafe asks, glancing at you before looking back at your friend. “not to you, no” she scoffs a laugh, which made him laugh at her. “oooh, feisty one your friend is, ain’t she?” rafe sarcastically says to you with that stupid mocking grin he does.

“go away, rafe.” you roll your eyes and grab your friends hand before walking away from him. “awh, i liked you better when you weren’t a stuck up bitch” rafe says to your friend to piss her off, which made her turn around and stop in her tracks, making you do the same.

“do you really have to be a dick right now?” you raise your voice and eyebrows at his audacity. “oh, she speaks!” rafe sarcastically exclaims, raising his arms. your eyes dart onto topper and kelce stood behind rafe, who were looking right at you with stupid grins on their faces to wind you up.

you give them no notice because they want to see you all riled up, that’s all rafe ever wants. you ignore him completely and grab your friend again, pulling her toward the other room again. “i can see your ass cheeks, ‘guess you really are just a slut after all” rafe says to you which made you groan and yell “fuck off” without stopping or turning around, hearing all three boys giggle like girls at your reaction as you walk out of the kitchen.

“ugh. what a stupid fucking asshole” you vent to your friend. “honestly, fuck him. he’s a prick. you should totally get on someone tonight, ‘would totally piss him off” your friend suggests with a giggle to lighten your mood, making you smile a bit. “i don’t know…” you sigh before you both return to your other two friends who were now both dancing with boys. “fair enough” you shrug, laughing it off as you and your friend resume dancing and drinking to take your mind off things.

another thirty minutes went by, drink after drink, and you found yourself wandering away from your friends and chatting to a random bunch of strangers out in the hallway. you needed to pee really badly, and you had no idea where any of your friends were, so you head up the stairs alone to find a bathroom.

it’s much quieter upstairs with a few odd people going in and out of bedrooms and up and down the stairs. you began searching for the bathroom when you found it, opening the door and stepping inside. when you close the door and turn around, you gasp and jump at the unexpected sight of someone in the bathroom with you.

“shit… sorr— topper?” you quickly apologize, realizing it was rafe’s best friend. “what are you doing? get out” topper says in a mean tone, giving you daggers as he zips up his pants. “i need to pee? you get out” you say to him, noticing he was done using the toilet.

“no, i was in here first” topper scoffs, flushing the toilet and walking over to the sink to wash his hands. “great, well you’re done now, so leave” you smile with a fake sweet tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest to wait. “don’t care. wait your turn, don’t come in here demanding” he rolls his eyes, turning off the faucet and drying his hands on himself.

“fine. i’ll just go. i don’t care” you shrug, the alcohol giving you confidence as you walk over to the toilet and pull your panties down from underneath your dress, “what are you doing?” topper frowns, looking at you as if you’re crazy. “going pee, what does it look like?” you ask, laughing as you sit down to pee with him right in front of you.

he doesn’t answer, he only rolls his eyes at you, trying not to look at any private part of yours. he doesn’t make a move for the door, he just stands there kinda watching you with a weird look on his face. you two never really got along so well in the past, with him constantly being on rafe’s side each time you argued. “see? you could’ve left but you didn’t—”

“because i was in here first.” you both bicker as you finish peeing, wrapping toilet paper over your hand to wipe yourself. he didn’t particularly watch you do it, but it was definitely in his vision. when you were done, you flush the toilet and wash your hands, all while topper is still in the bathroom.

“great, look at that, we’re both done. who’s getting the fuck out first?” you ask, giving him a sarcastic look. “i’m staying here” topper says, “okay. well i’m staying here too.” you say to piss him off, seeing him roll his eyes. “not much to do in a bathroom…” he shrugs. “why do you wanna stay here then?” you frown.

“why do you wanna stay here?” he asks the same question you did. “to annoy you.” you shrug and giggle, both of you in a pretty drunk state. “right. typical of you” he scoffs, seeing you reach into your purse and grabbing your lipstick. “mhm” you hum as you turn around to face the mirror, opening your lipstick and reapplying some.

“y’know, you already look like a whore so that lipstick isn’t going to change anything” he says rudely, making you scoff at his reflection in the mirror. “maybe i wanna be a whore” you shrug, focusing on applying the lipstick and rubbing your lips together, all while you lean over the sink counter with your ass cheeks hanging out of your short dress.

you see his eyes dart down to your ass in the mirror’s reflection, making you smirk and poke your butt out a little more, seeing him still looking. “if i’m such a whore, why’re you looking at me like that, hm?” you ask in a bratty tone, placing your lipstick aside and turning around to fully face him, his eyes now looking back up into yours.

“you can’t wear a dress like that and expect me not to look.” he says, looking you up and down which brings tension. “why? is it too much for you?” you tilt your head, a smirk playing at your lips. “yeah. y’look hot.” he says, his drunken state allowing him to forget that you’re his best friend’s ex and this is wrong.

“yeah? you want me to take it off?” you ask, your tone more soft and flirty now as you look at him with a smirk and raised eyebrows. “i mean…” he drags suggestively, making you laugh. “come take it off me then…” you offer, slowly grinning as you see the look on his face. he wants to devour you.

he doesn’t hesitate to take a step closer to you, your bodies just inches apart as the tension grows thicker. “don’t you have friends to get back to?” he asks, “don’t you?” your head tilts. “i asked you first” he says, stepping closer and reaching his hand down to your waist, pulling you closer.

“i have no idea where my friends are. the last i seen em’ they were busy kissing some guys downstairs.” you shrug, cozying up to him as your body gets comfortable being so close to his. “weird. i thought you would’ve been doing exactly that.” he jokes, acting like you’re the slutty friend out of your group.

“well i am… just upstairs” you grin, wrapping your arms behind his neck and pulling his head down to kiss you, your lips immediately crashing onto each others. the kiss turned deep fast, with both of your hands roaming one another’s bodies, his hands slid down to your ass where he grabbed both cheeks, making you giggle and stand on your tip toes. “you like that?” he asks, breaking the kiss for air.

“mhm,” you hum, pulling him back in for another kiss. you hate to admit it but you haven’t been with anyone since rafe, you haven’t been kissed, touched or fucked by another guy since. you were too afraid to jump into new relationships or bond with new guys just in case they were as toxic and crazy as he was, he definitely turned you off men for a while…

the kiss began to get heated as your hand trailed down to his crotch to tease him, feeling him get hard as he twirls his fingers around the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your thighs. your dress is still on, but it is raised to give him more access. you let him continue as you feel your panties drop to the floor, making you gasp and giggle.

his fingers instantly begin rubbing your wet pussy, making you moan into the kiss. “fuck…” he says, breathing heavily as he pulls away from the kiss, both of you panting for air as he backs you up onto the countertop, slightly lifting you up to sit on it with your ass cheeks hanging off the edge.

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, your hands cupping his face. his lips are inches away from yours as his hands grip the sides of your thighs. “you’re so hot…” he says, both of you drunk and lost in horniness. “you’re hot” you say, glancing down at his lips then back into his eyes. he takes this as a sign to kiss you again, so he does.

his hand rubs your pussy again, moaning softly at the feeling of your wetness. “y’wanna fuck?” he asks, pulling away while his fingers toy with your clit, making you moan. “yeah…”

“i don’t have any condoms—”

“i don’t care, i’m on the pill” you cut him off, too horny to even give a fuck about extra protection. he smirks in response before making out with you again, your hands gripping the back of his t-shirt to pull it off and throw it on the floor.

topper has a great body, you couldn’t help but look down at his toned abs and almost drool at the sight. his removes his hands from you to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down slightly along with his boxers. “i’m so hard” he pants, pulling his head away to look down at himself. “yeah? i’m so wet… fuck me…” you smirk, biting your lip as you tighten your legs around his waist, motioning for him to bring his dick to you.

without hesitation he pulls his boxers down, his hard cock springing out and hitting your leg. fuck, he was so big it made you wetter immediately. you lift your legs up some more, shifting your ass in an angle which easier for him to enter you. he grabs his dick and lines it up with your entrance, pushing the tip against it and hearing you gasp.

“fuck… you ready?” he asks, making you grin. he’s actually sweet when it comes to sex, he’s much less forceful and aggressive than rafe was. he asks questions instead of instantly going for what he wants. he respects you which makes you realize maybe not all guys are so bad.

“yeah” you nod, making eye contact with him as he slowly enters you, the both of you gasping at the feeling. “fuck… oh my god” you moan, throwing your head back as more of him enters you, filling you right up with his big cock. “look at me… i wanna look at your pretty face” he says, using his hand to gently pull your head back up.

hearing his words gave you butterflies in your belly and your pussy, his compliments and soft touches making you melt. “top…” you moan, clutching your arms around the back of his neck as your legs move with his hips, thrusting in and out of you.

“shiiit…” he groans, his pace getting rougher with each stroke. you make eye contact and kiss each other a few times before his kisses trail down your jaw and to your neck, where he sucks and bites on your skin. you unwrap your hands from around him and grip his shoulders instead, moaning as he thrusts hard.

you drunkenly fuck on the countertop for a while, kissing and giving each other hickeys. the eye contact he holds with you is insane. you couldn’t help but think about how different he was to rafe, given that he was the only guy you’d ever been with up until now. no matter how drunk you were, you will definitely not forget about this moment and how every thrust felt, every kiss, every little touch on your body…

“fuck… you feel so good,” you moan, looking at your lipstick stain all over topper’s mouth and giggling at it. “what?” he asks breathily, seeing you point at his mouth. he looks up into the mirror above your head and chuckles. “look at yours” he says, helping you turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror, seeing your lipstick smudged around your mouth. you both chuckle and you turn back around to face him, pulling him in for another kiss with as his hands play with your tits above your dress. you didn’t take it off, neither of you wanted to be too exposed being at a crowded party and all.

you went at it for a couple more minutes, moaning each other’s names and exploring each others bodies and mouths. the music downstairs was so loud that it boomed and echoed through the entire house, not allowing you to hear anything else from outside the bathroom, not even the footsteps coming up the stairs…

both of you were so lost in each other that it took a moment to realize that there were male voices just outside the door, “yeah, hold on” one guy says as he opens the door to the bathroom, needing to use it. both you and topper quickly turn your head in that direction to be met with rafe.

shit, you thought… you didn’t actually expect rafe to be the one person to walk in on you. “yo, what the fuck?” rafe says after pausing for a second and immediately getting angry. “rafe—” you say, but he cuts you off with a laugh as he shows kelce outside the door what was happening, but by now topper was already out of you and had his pants back up, and you had jumped off the counter to pull your dress down. “are you fucking for real?” rafe yells with amusement on his face, pointing at you and topper with an angry laugh as kelce says “yo…” in shock.

“rafe bro—” topper tries to speak but rafe doesn’t let him. “nah, are you serious?” rafe amuses angrily, still in disbelief of what he saw. “you come up here to fuck my ex? what the fuck?” rafe pipes up, pointing at himself before fully entering the bathroom, kelce still stood at the doorway. “rafe he’s—” you try to say, but rafe shushes you. “nuh uh, you shut the fuck up, i don’t wanna hear shit from your whore ass” rafe insults, yelling at you which made you flinch a little.

“rafe calm down bro” topper says, attempting to reach down to grab his t-shirt from the floor but rafe stops him and shoves him back. “don’t” you warn your ex with stern eyes, making him laugh. “ohhh, oh i see, you two fuckin’ each other now huh?” rafe jokes, looking over at kelce for backup. “no it’s not like that” you say, topper looking back at you as you briefly stand behind him, your panties still lying on the floor as you were too afraid to bend down and pick them up due to exposure.

“oh, it’s not?” he asks, getting aggressive as he yells in your face, his fists clenching in rage. “bro it was just a spur of the moment…” topper quickly tries defending himself, but rafe turns to look at him, “topper shut the fuck up bro before i beat your ass” he threatens.

“you— you’re just a fucking stupid slut, going for my friends? really?” rafe asks you, making out like this was entirely your fault. “well maybe don’t be such a rude asshole” you shrug, playing it off. now that you think about it, you really don’t care if you upset him or not. he deserves to feel betrayed by his ex and his best friend, he did nothing but bully you.

“really?—”

“yeah, really! you’re a fucking dick and topper here is better than you ever were,” you argue, not caring if you flash yourself as you bend down to snatch your underwear from the floor, shoving them back on. “really?” rafe laughs angrily, “yeah. and bigger, too.” you blurt out, shoving past him to storm out of the bathroom. those last words really ticked him off because you could hear him and topper screaming and yelling at each other as you head down the stairs.

part of you felt bad for leaving topper, but he deserves this, too. all throughout your relationship with rafe, topper was rude to you. he always backed rafe up when you two fought, always insulted you when rafe did, made fun of you like rafe did… tonight you saw a different side of topper, an affectionate and sweet side. maybe it was the wrong place at the wrong time, but who cares? hopefully this’ll ruin their friendship for messing with you.

you rush back to the living room in hopes to find your friends, and luckily you found two of them. “girls… we need to leave” you snicker, trying to hide your laugh. “why?” one yells over the music. “i just fucked topper” you giggle.

“what?!”

“you did what?!”

both friends gasp and widen their eyes. “i fucked topper and rafe walked in” you couldn’t help but laugh in excitement thinking about how much this’ll affect rafe. “oh my god!”

“i know, right?” you laugh as the two of your friends reach over to your third and final friend in the crowd to pull her out. “we’re leaving, let’s go” one says to her, seeing her frown. “why?” she asks, just as you see rafe walking down the stairs, probably trying to find you. “that’s why… come on” you say, pointing at rafe as the four of you quickly move through the crowd and dart for the door, all running out and laughing.

“girl, you’re crazy” one of the girls says to you as you all make it to the end of the driveway and pant for air. “i know… and he’ll kill me if we don’t get the fuck outta’ here” you drunkenly laugh, thinking of the situation as funny more than anything else.

all four of you head down the road and back in the direction of your house where you were prior to the party. “what the hell happened?” your third friend asks, looking at you with a frown. “she fucked topper.” another replies for you. “what? seriously? damn… rafe knows?” she widens her eyes. “rafe saw, he walked in” you giggle, seeing the shocked expression on her face. “holy shit…”

on the walk back home, you tell them all in detail what happened despite you stumbling your words drunkly. all you could think about now was what rafe was doing. was he hurt? did he feel betrayed? you can only hope so.

NOT PROOFREAD. this has been in my drafts for SO long but i only just finished it😭 i hope u guys enjoy!!!! <3 FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED!

english is not my first language so please feel free to point out any spelling/grammar mistakes ◡̈

@cameronluvr

[bigenergy777]

i’d let s2 rafe snort lines off my tits