#but i am v much spiraling

[treeffles]

Hi yes hello, this is a Tree post, and not a D post.

My own personal processors are telling me that no one likes me again. I am once again asking for your validation that you don't hate me please and thank you.

[xoxoemynn]

also it kind of fucks me up that we're approaching the anniversary of S2 airing but also approaching the anniversary of the cancellation.

I just keep thinking back to where we were this time last year, with teasers and trailers and promo shots dropping and those of us who were less spoiler averse were digging through articles for hints of what was to happen, and then we had OCTOBER and each week we were losing our minds over the new episodes and there was SO much fannish activity, it was so chaotic and joyful and exhausting but oh my god we were so alive.

and then we barely had a chance to savor that before it all came crashing down. just burned fast and hot and bright and then it was over.

it's so fucking unfair and I'm still furious that this is how they treated this gorgeous, meaningful show.

[natasha-in-space]

So I'm replaying Ray's After ending rn, and it got me thinking that what I adore so much about Rika as an antagonist is just how damn scary she can be. I always found those who cause harm with good intentions (at least in their point of view) much scarier than those who hurt you with pure intention on hurting you. I think the best example of it is this CG in particular:

Look at that. Such a loving, gentle expression on her face. Probably kissing his forehead. Because she loves him. Heck, without any context, this CG looks even sweet, if you think about it. And yet, all that is while Saeyoung is forcefully sedated on a powerful concoction of drugs even a trained agent like him can't do anything about (and Saeyoung WAS definitely trained to deal with this sort of thing, hence it's mentioned that this is a 'special' kind of drugs). He looks miserable. Bags under his eyes, his expression pained and troubled, even his hair is paler than usual. All that as a direct result of her actions. But she's utterly blind to it. What's scarier, is that she knowingly shuts off her understanding of what's really happening. She's not oblivious to it at all. She just chooses not to see it that way. Simply because she doesn't want to.

Rika is the type of antagonist that will cup your cheek into her warm hand with the most loving of smiles on her face, all while you are getting elixir poured down your throat. Even whispering to you that you're doing great, that the pain will soon pass, and that she can't wait to see you reach the happiness she knows you deserve. I won't be surprised if she even cried genuine tears of compassion during some ceremonies for her believers. All while being the sole reason behind their suffering.

And that's... God, that's terrifying to me. I love that about her.

Rika Kim, they could never make me hate you

[lanternlightss]

okay .. take two !!!

+ bonus doodles

[a-mel-tomelts]

AkeShu cause i said so

Okay, so on Twitter @/PersonaChampionship did a poll where Akechi and Joker are against each other(Give these two boys a break, world, jeez) and they picked THIS picture: Terrible!! I know!!

And this whole poll has 2/2 vibes to me and then I found these tweets:

and my breain went: Ah, yes. It's all coming together. So, here, take it:

I have NO self-control whatsoeve when it comes to these two.

[urbanbirdbud]

having a category 5 neurodivergent event (overstimulated bc all sounds all the time) so ive made a nest in the closet and am just chilling here in the dark eating pretzels and trying to not go insane

[carbonateddelusion]

pretty people <3<3<3 beautiful bois and gorgeous gorls <3<3<3

[faaun]

i feel rly irredeemably horrible rn...longing for emotional support....anyway vent in tags

[zeawesomebirdie]

Not me realising that due to my fatigue I'm probably going to have to pay for private classes, at least to start with, since there's no way in hell I'll be capable of keeping up with a regular class,,,

[incognit0slut]

Crawling back to you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Simmons!Reader Summary: You never planned on having a casual fling with your brother's friend five years ago, nor did you expect him to fall in love with you, which forced you to end things abruptly. But now he's unexpectedly back in your life—older, wiser, and fully intent on winning your heart. Content: (18+) >12k words, reader has commitment issues, he’s the softest softdom i’ve ever written, female oral, fingering, unprotected p in v, a little squirting? teeth rotting fluff and a chaotic ending because who am i without my crack humor A/n: This is for @imagining-in-the-margins FWB writing challenge and somewhat a celebration post for 7k milestone. Idk how that happened but tysm :( I hope you like this as much as I did writing it because matt simmons is so underrated??? I’m also freaking nervous with this i haven’t posted a new fic in a while so please please please be nice i feel like throwing up

Surprise has a way of stopping time. Although you're not sure you can call it that. What you’re experiencing is more than just surprise, it’s the kind of feeling that makes you freeze in place. It’s not just a jolt to the system—it’s a full-body takeover. Your breath catches, your heart skips, and your thoughts scatter like leaves caught in the wind. How could they not, when the last person you expected to see is standing right in front of you, clad in the most questionable clothes?

You almost laugh at how absurd he looks. He’s wearing an oversized hoodie with a tacky “Washington D.C.” print sprawled across the front. It’s baffling why he’s draped in that shapeless thing over his freakishly tall frame, but it’s too hard to focus on something so trivial when you’re still grasping with the reality of seeing him again. You really can’t believe it. Spencer Reid is here. The Spencer Reid.

The guy whose heart you broke five years ago.

You should have seen this coming. In fact, you kind of did, when your brother’s friends came rushing into the hospital room, their voices a chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” as they crowded around the newborn cradled in Kristy’s arms. You exchanged polite greetings when they noticed you—Penelope even pulled you into a tight hug, gushing about how amazing you looked—and thankfully, there was no sign of him.

But you’d almost allowed yourself to believe he wouldn’t show up. When the small space became overly crowded, you stepped out into the waiting room to catch your breath… only to find him standing a few feet away with JJ.

And just like that, all the air seems to vanish from your lungs.

You had a plan, of course. In the back of your mind, you always knew a chance meeting was inevitable, whether you liked it or not. And that plan was simple. You’d offer him a polite smile. Exchange a few words, nothing too personal. You’d be friendly but distant, always make sure to keep the kind of composure that says you’ve moved on, and that the past is just that: the past.

But those well-laid plans seem fragile now, almost naive as you suddenly caught his smile. Now how do you stick to a script when your heart is starting to rewrite all the lines? Or blur the lines specifically, when the past and present merge so seamlessly that you’re reminded of the first time that same smile had charmed you.

You’re suddenly thrown back to that day five years ago, when your brother had thrown a barbecue cookout to celebrate some joint investigation his team had wrapped up. You didn’t know the details—didn’t really care to, if you were honest—but Matt had called you and insisted that you join him.

You hadn't thought much of it at the time. It sounded like another family gathering with a few new faces. But that was the day you met Spencer, and what began as a simple introduction quickly spiraled into something much more complicated. Really complicated. Because as charmed as you were by his smile, he had wanted something more from you when all you could offer him was your body.

So you ran away.

Although not very far, because apparently, he’s standing a few steps away from you, five years later. And the worst part? He’s now very much aware that you’re here. You watch as his jaw slacks open as he takes a double-take. You’re rooted in place. JJ, on the other hand, tugs his sleeve as she notices his demeanor slowly shutting down. She turns around to see what’s caught his attention, and when she spots you, a huge smile spreads across her face.

"Hey! You're here!” You force yourself to look away from him as she moves forward. You reciprocate the hug she throws at you. "How are you?”

You’re not entirely sure how to answer. How do you even explain that your heart just did a triple backflip and landed somewhere near your stomach? Or that you’re seconds away from having an internal existential crisis because, of course, the universe would choose this moment to throw Spencer Reid back into your life?

There's really no good way to sum that up. So instead, you plaster on a smile that probably looks more like a grimace and reply, "Good. I’m good.”

JJ doesn’t seem to notice the strained edges in your voice. “It’s so nice to see you again! How long has it been?”

There’s a moment of silence as you try to gather your thoughts. But before you can respond, Spencer’s voice suddenly cuts through the quiet. It’s soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s been holding onto this detail for far too long, but every syllable rings in your ears.

"Five years," he says. "Five years, three months, and seventeen days."

Your stomach does another flip. JJ raises her brows, her eyes darting between you and him. You carefully meet her gaze. "Actually, you and I met up last year.”

“Oh, right!” She exclaims, her face lighting up as the memory clicks into place. “You were in town for a conference, right? I totally forgot about that.”

“You were in town last year and you didn’t tell me?”

God, he’s making it terribly hard for you to keep your composure. You throw him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t know you wanted to see me.”

His expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. He looks at you as if your words sounds ludicrous to him.

“I always want to see you.”

You can't decide what surprises you more, the fact that he still wants to see you after all these years, or how easily he says it. The words roll off his tongue so casually, so effortlessly, as if the weight of your shared past doesn’t cling to them. And to make matters worse, he's saying this right in front of JJ, who is now staring at him, clearly scrutinizing the significance behind his words.

You quickly shift your attention to her, forcing another smile. "So, are you going to head inside?"

JJ blinks at you. “Oh, yeah, I probably should.” She turns to Spencer and gives him a quick but knowing glance. "See you on Monday, Spence."

You glance at him. “You're not going to see the baby?"

"Spencer’s got something he needs to take care of,” JJ chimes in. There’s a slight edge to her voice, like she knows exactly what that ‘something’ is, but she doesn’t elaborate. She gives him one last look before heading inside.

You catch yourself looking up at him again. “You’re leaving?”

Spencer pauses, studying you carefully, his brow furrowing just slightly like he’s trying to read between the lines of your question.

“I was,” he says softly.

There’s a sudden tightness in your chest. “Right.”

“But now I don’t want to.”

There it goes again, the butterflies in your stomach. This is exactly why you didn’t want to see him. You knew that once you looked into his eyes, heard his voice, it would stir up everything you’ve spent five years trying to bury. You’d told yourself it was better to pretend that whatever happened between you was nothing more than a stupid choice. But now, standing here with him so close, you can feel all those walls you built crumbling down with just a few words.

You finally look at him, like really look at him. It’s impossible not to notice how he’s changed over the past five years. There are faint lines around his eyes now, signs of age that wasn't there before. His hair is longer, a little messier. It curls around his ears in a way that makes him look almost boyish, yet undeniably charming which suits him more than you'd like to admit.

But even with all the changes, his smile—gentle and just a little shy—remains the same. That smile reminds you of a time when things were simpler, where it was enough to convince you that you didn't have to keep your guard up all the time. But then you remember the reason you walked away, and his smile becomes a little harder to look at.

Because while he's changed, grown, matured, so have you, and you're not sure if there's room for the person you are now in the space that once belonged to both of you.

His eyes scan you in the same way you’re assessing him. “You look good.”

Your mouth twitches at his words. You didn’t expect him to be so straightforward. “Thank you.”

“You’re even prettier than I remember.”

The sigh you let out is long and weary. He really knows how to push your buttons.

“Spencer. Don’t.”

“What?”

“You can’t just say things like that after—” You hesitate, crossing your arms. "After everything. What happened to 'Hi, how are you?’. Or maybe something simple like ‘What have you been up to? Anything new?’”

He blinks, clearly taken aback by your abruptness. “Okay. Hi, how are you?”

You cast him a wary glance. “Good.”

"What have you been up to?"

"Work."

"Anything new?"

"No."

He pauses again, his eyes searching yours before he asks, "No new boyfriend?"

You frown. “Huh?”

“Girlfriend?”

"Spencer."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Spencer."

He smiles sheepishly, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You're right, that was inappropriate. I didn't think I would see you again, it’s throwing me off a bit."

“You didn’t think I would be here for my newborn niece?”

His smile turns into a grimace. "I guess I wasn't thinking clearly." He shifts on his feet, fidgeting with his fingers—a small, familiar tic that you hadn’t seen in years. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

“It’s fine,” you reply, though there’s no real bite to your words. His nervous energy is making it hard to stay annoyed. Your eyes narrow on his oversized hoodie again, the casual, almost careless choice that seems slightly out of character for the Spencer you remember.

He seems to notice you staring so blatantly. “What?”

“You look funny.”

A hint of surprise flashes across his face. “You think I’m funny?”

“Different,” you correct. “Did you raid someone’s closet on your way here or something?”

"Oh… I had to change my clothes. I got wet at the park earlier.”

You glance towards the window with a frown. "It's not even raining."

"I ran through the sprinklers."

The cease on your forehead deepens. Even that sounds so unlike him. Spencer Reid doing something that carefree in public?

“You ran through the sprinklers? Alone?"

You notice his expression shift as the question leaves your lips, something very subtle, but you’ve known him long enough to catch it. The way his eyes flicker, the slight hesitation before he answers, makes it obvious. There’s a hint of something unspoken in the way he looks at you, and suddenly, it all clicks into place.

He wasn’t alone.

You look away. It's ridiculous, you think. To feel this somewhat… jealous when it should be the last thing on your mind because, really, what right do you have? What you had with him wasn’t even a relationship to begin with. But despite all the logic in the world, you can’t help the pang in your chest, the twist of something bitter and familiar curling in your gut.

"It's not what you think," he slowly says.

You force a small, awkward laugh, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t assuming anything. It’s none of my business, anyway."

"No, really, it's nothing like that." he insists, scrunching his nose in the way he does when he's trying to think. "I mean, I did meet someone at the park, but it’s not like… what you might be thinking. We were just talking, and… and then there were these sprinklers and it wasn’t really planned or anything, then she—well, technically, we weren’t even alone the whole time because there were other people around, and it’s not like we—”

“Spencer, you don’t have to explain—” you begin, but then something dawns on you. “Wait, is this what JJ was referring to? Did you… Did you have plans?”

You notice his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows. "Kind of," he admits. “But it wasn't anything serious. It was just, you know, a casual thing.”

You can't help the way your stomach knots. Casual could mean anything. Maybe a simple coffee between two friends, or even a lighthearted conversation over lunch. But in your experience, at least in the book you and Spencer had written together in the past, casual had always meant sex. And now, hearing him say it about someone else feels like a punch to the gut you hadn't expected.

You suddenly feel foolish for letting your mind go there, for assuming that whatever he meant by casual was the same thing it had meant for the two of you back then. It's been five years, and so much has changed. Maybe casual means something entirely different for him now, and you're the one stuck in the past, reading into things that no longer hold the same weight.

He must have noticed the slight falter in your expression, the way your eyes momentarily cloud over with something you can’t quite hide. He takes a step forward. "It’s really nothing.”

You take a step back. “Even if it is, it’s really not my business.”

“But it’s not,” he urges. He’s suddenly so persistent, and you can’t help but feel the embarrassment gnawing you at how easily he can read your mind. It's one thing to wrestle with these feelings privately, but having them so clearly acknowledged makes it all the more humiliating. You can’t believe you let yourself get so worked up over something that shouldn’t matter this much.

You eye the exit door. “I need to go.”

"Right now?” His brows knit together in confusion. “But your family’s here."

You’ve only spent a few minutes with him and you’re already running away.

"I just remembered I have to take care of… something."

The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, but you don’t wait for his response. You quickly turn on your heel, and when he calls out your name with concern, you force yourself to keep moving, scurrying off down the hallway.

Me: I'm heading back first Big bro: You okay? Me: Bad headache Big Bro: You didn't eat anything, did you?

You scoff. What is it about your brother always zeroing in on eating whenever you complain about feeling off?

Me: You know I did. Just not much Big Bro: That’s what I thought. There’s some leftover dinner in the fridge. And check the second drawer in the kitchen, there should be some ibuprofen Me: Yes, Dad Big Bro: Don’t get smart with me Me: 🫡 Big Bro: Drink lots of water Me: Yes, sir. Anything else on your mind while you’re giving out parental advice? Big Bro: I’m just trying to keep myself from dragging you out of my house if you collapse Me: 🙄 Big Bro: The kids are staying with Kristy’s parents, I’ll drop by tomorrow morning Me: Okay Big Bro: Call me if you need anything

You toss your phone down on the bed, then let out the most exasperated sigh. Spending your Saturday night in your brother’s guest room is the last thing you expect to be doing, let alone faking a headache just to avoid confronting a situationship from the past. You honestly thought you’d outgrown this kind of avoidance, but here you are, slipping back into old habits as if no time has passed at all.

Ironically, your mind stumbles into the past, and you remember a conversation you once had with Spencer. It was during one of those nights when you both were tangled in each other’s arms. You could faintly remember the conversation started with him talking about his work.

He never actually told you the details of his cases, but he liked to share his thoughts on the different complexities of the human mind. And on that particular night, he was rambling about the psychological concept of avoidance, which he claimed to have detected the first time he spotted the bad guy. He went on at how people often retreat into familiar behaviors to protect themselves from discomfort.

At the time, you had brushed it off with a joke, teasing him about overanalyzing everything when the situation had already played out. But now the irony isn’t lost on you. You’re doing exactly what he once explained. It’s almost laughable if it didn’t sting so much to realize how right he was.

A sharp ding from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, and one glance at it tells you exactly who’s messaging. The name on the screen makes your chest tighten, but you don’t even give yourself a moment to consider responding. You quickly turn the phone to silent, push yourself off the bed, and head straight for the kitchen. True to your brother’s words, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge, but the idea of reheating it doesn’t seem appealing to you.

You reach for the bottle of wine instead.

The red liquor tastes like butter, or something close to it. It’s similar in the way the liquid melts over your tongue, spreading warmth through your chest and settling comfortably in your belly. By the time you're sipping the second glass, you feel more relaxed, but then the sharp sound of the doorbell ringing cuts through the calm.

You glance at the door from the position of the couch. You have a strong feeling about who it is. But as much as you're sure of the who, what really gnaws at you is the why.

You hesitantly make your way toward the door, and sure enough, when you pull it open, Spencer is standing at your brother’s doorstep. The corner of his lips turns upward in an awkward, almost apologetic half-smile as if he’s unsure of how to begin or whether he should even be there in the first place.

You lean against the doorframe. “Did Matt tell you I was here?”

He gives you a pointed look, his eyebrows raising slightly. “No, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.” You throw him the same questioning look, and he explains, “This is the only place you’d stay in town because not only do you hate staying alone at a hotel, but Matt wouldn’t let you even if you tried.”

You can’t believe he still remembers your offhand comment about sterile hotel rooms. It’s one of the reasons you used to prefer staying at his apartment whenever you were in town.

“Why are you here anyway?” You ask. “I thought you had plans.”

He pauses for moment as if deciding how much to say. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I come in? I’d rather explain it inside.”

"I don't think you owe me any explanations about what you do with your time," you reply, crossing your arms.

"Maybe I don't owe it, but I want to give it.”

“Which isn’t necessary.”

“But appreciated, I hope.”

You find yourself caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You tell yourself not to read too much into it, but there's a part of you that can't help but soften at his words. Maybe it's the way his eyes reminds you of melted chocolate as he stares at you that makes you want to let him in, despite your better judgment.

You pull the door open. “Fine, but take your shoes off. Kristy’s very serious about hygiene.”

He does as he’s told and tucks away his shoes on the rack by the door.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

He shakes his head slightly, offering a small smile. "I'm good, thanks."

You nod and gesture toward the living room. He follows you, and as you both approach the couch, he instinctively moves to the far end, settling down cautiously as if not wanting to invade your space. You take a seat on the opposite end.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

He leans back slightly, resting his hands on his knees. You can tell he's trying to gauge your mood, figure out how much to push and when to hold back. "Do you remember when we went on that date at the street fair?"

You frown, remembering how you had missed your bus home in one of your trips here and ended up wandering at the fair with him. “That wasn’t a date.”

"Fine. Do you remember when we went to the street fair together not on a date?"

“I remember."

His shoulders relax a bit at your response. “You spent ages deciding what to eat and you ended up choosing that little Korean stall in the corner. We had to walk a bit further to get there even when your shoes were hurting you.”

You think back, internally scolding yourself for wearing those damn boots that day. “You thought I was being ridiculous.”

"I didn't think it was ridiculous. I just didn't get it at first. Your feet were practically covered in blisters."

"I really wanted kimchi."

"I could tell, and it took me a while to understand why you went through all that trouble. Now I do.”

You glance at him, sensing there's more behind his words. “Why are you bringing this up?"

He meets your gaze. His brown eyes looking a little more golden underneath the dim light. "I guess this is me choosing.”

“That you’re craving for Korean?”

He gives a soft, genuine laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and reaches his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “Not exactly,” he says and leans a little closer. “What I’m trying to say is, that’s how I feel right now. I'm here because I want to be, not because it's convenient, but because it’s you.”

There’s a subtle flutter in your chest, and your skin prickles with a familiar warmth as he speaks. Your heart beats a little faster, not enough to be alarming, but just enough to remind you that you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be. You can feel your palms start to sweat, and there’s that almost imperceptible hitch in your breathing that you hope he doesn’t notice.

“Spencer…” You don’t even know how to start. “It’s been five years."

He nods slowly. “I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do. A lot of has changed since the last time we saw each another, and you’re here acting like we both separated on good terms? Don't you hate me?”

His brow furrows slightly. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because I broke your heart. I—" Your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words. "The moment you told me you were falling in love with me, I... I ran. I couldn’t handle it. I pushed you away like a coward.”

“You weren't a coward, you were scared. And maybe I didn’t understand that back then, but I do now.”

You shake your head. “But I hurt you.”

The sigh he lets out is heavy, yet there's something deceptively calm about it, almost as if he’s already made peace with the past. “You did what you thought you had to do, and sure, it hurt. But I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I realized that I don’t blame you for needing space. It wasn’t about me not being enough, it was about you needing to protect yourself.”

His words start to chip away at the wall you’ve built around your heart. “I thought you’d hate me,” you admit quietly.

“I could never hate you."

You lower your gaze, your fingers fiddling nervously with the edge of the cushion. “Alright, let’s say you choose me. Now what? What is it that you want?”

He pauses for a moment, his fingers curled into his palms. He looks away briefly, taking a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts, then returns his gaze to you. “I want another chance.”

If you were surprised to see him at the hospital earlier, this is something entirely different. There’s something akin to panic fluttering in your chest. It’s amusing, really, how the human body reacts before the mind fully comprehends as if your heart knows what’s coming before you do. You can feel it in the way your breath catches, in the way your stomach knots with a nervous energy you can’t quite shake. Because how do you even react to that?

You finally turn to face him, leaning your head against the back of the couch. This moment feels like some sort of déjà vu, and just like the last time, your mind is already bracing itself, preparing to give him the same answer you did back then.

“You know it’s never going to work.”

He mirrors you, but instead of the frustration or sadness you half-expected, there’s a gentle smile on his lips. “You sound so sure.”

“That’s because I am,” you reply. “I know what you’re asking for right now, and we don’t function like that. Not in the past, at least.”

“How did we function?”

“Based on sex.”

“And what do you think I’m asking for now?”

“More than sex, which isn’t going to work."

“Why not?”

“Because—” you start, but the words catch in your throat. You’re not even sure how to explain. The fears, the doubts, the past... all of it feels too big, too overwhelming to articulate in a way that makes sense.

“Because the idea still terrifies you?”

You frown, caught off guard by the directness of his question. “No.”

The smile stretches even more across his face. “Then give me one good reason why you think so.”

"Oh I can name a few."

He studies you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to read every thought racing through your mind. “Let’s make a deal then. You give me those reasons why we can’t work, and I’ll give you reasons why we can.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his offer. It’s bold, almost reckless, and yet... there’s something in his eyes that makes you want to accept the challenge.

"And if your reasons aren’t good enough?"

“Then we’ll deal with that when we come to it,” he replies softly. “But I’m willing to bet we won’t have to.”

"You really think you can convince me?"

"I can try." He leans a little closer, just enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body. "So, what’s your first reason?"

That’s too easy, too obvious. “You’re one of my brother’s closest friends,” you point out. “What happens if this doesn’t work out? I don’t want to put him, or us, in that position.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “That didn’t stop us in the past.”

You scoff. “Spencer, we were sneaking around behind his back. It’s not exactly the same thing. This… whatever this is, it would be out in the open, and that’s a whole different level of complicated.”

“It would be different, yes. But that doesn’t mean it has to be a problem. If anything, it shows how serious we were then, and how serious we could be now.” You scrunch your nose at his response. “Now what’s next on your list?”

"Uhh.. the distance! You’re in D.C., and I’m not. It’s not like I can just drop everything and move closer.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re a three-hour drive away, maybe two if I take the expressway. And honestly, with how much we both travel for work, I don’t see how that’s an issue.”

His reasoning is so undeniably logical you feel a flicker of annoyance, not at him, but at how easily he’s dismantling your arguments.

“You didn’t even want to visit me back then.”

"You were the one who didn't want me to. You kept saying it was easier for you to come here.”

His words hit harder than you expect. You remember all the times you insisted on making the trips yourself. You'd convinced yourself it was about convenience, but with him calling you out on it, you realize it wasn't about convenience at all. It was about keeping things on your terms, maintaining a safe distance even when that distance wasn't physical.

"Well, I had more flexible hours," you claim. The excuse is flimsy, and the way Spencer looks at you—patient, but not fooled—makes it clear that he sees right through it.

You try to think of your next reason, although the words seem to get stuck before they even form. You know you can easily rattle off more excuses, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it harder than it should be.

“That’s it? You’ve only thought of two? I was expecting a bit more of a challenge.”

You scowl at him. "I didn’t say I was done."

"Take your time," he comments, leaning back slightly, still wearing that infuriatingly patient smile.

You huff softly, trying to regain your footing. "Okay, how about this? Sex."

There's a beat of silence. "What about sex?"

You feel the words forming, but they sound ridiculous even in your own mind. Still, you force them out of your mouth. Your subconscious is urging you to come up with more excuses to keep him at arm’s length. "That was all that we had. What if… what if we just fall back into the same patterns?"

“Don't you think that's a reason why we can work? If we were only ever about sex and we're still here, doesn't that show there's something more between us?"

“Or it just means we had a strong physical connection. That doesn’t necessarily mean there’s something more.”

“You really believe that? That all we had was just physical?”

“Yes,” you retort, though the confidence in your voice wavers slightly. Your eyes flicker away for a split second before you meet his gaze again. “That’s all it ever was and I don’t know if it can turn into something you’re trying to imply.”

He lets out a low, amused sound, as the corners of his mouth twitches upward. “You’re deflecting.”

“I’m being realistic,” you shoot back. “What if we try, and it doesn’t work? What if everything falls apart because we weren’t good at anything but the sex?”

His eyes light up, and suddenly he’s wearing the most boyish grin you’ve ever seen on him. “So you're admitting the sex was good?"

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“You know what I mean. What we had was...” Wild? Passionate? Crazy-hot-mind-blowing sex? “…intense. But intensity isn't enough for a relationship. What if the rest of it doesn't hold up?"

He leans in closer, his hand hovering near yours on the couch.

“But what if it does?”

All you can do is stare at him.

“You’re giving me all these reasons to push me away again,” he continues. “But I’m here because I’m not afraid of those doubts. I’ve always wanted to give you more than what we had because you deserve something real. I want us to be real this time, and I think you do too, even if you’re scared to admit it.”

His words are affecting you more than you like to admit. You can slowly feel it in the tension building between you, it’s surprisingly not the uncomfortable kind, but the sort that pulls you in, that makes you want to move closer even though every instinct tells you to stay put.

And then it happens. You feel a slight tremor in your leg, an involuntary movement that causes it to brush against his. The contact is so light it's almost like it didn't happen at all, but it did. He notices—Of course he does—and now there’s a certain gentleness in his gaze like he knows exactly what's going on inside your head. He doesn't push, doesn't rush, just watches you with those impossibly kind eyes.

And in the softest, most careful voice, he asks, “Can I move closer?"

Your heart is pounding now, the rhythm echoing in your ears, in your chest, in the pulse at your throat. The sensation travels downward, a slow, steady beat that moves through your body, inching its way down your spine, tightening in your stomach before it settles low in your abdomen. It’s a heat that spreads outward until it reaches your core, leaving you acutely aware of every inch of space between you and him—and how much you want to close that distance.

You find yourself nodding. He shifts closer. “Can I touch you?”

You really want to say something witty, something that might deflect from the weight of the situation, but the words won’t come out. You can only manage another nod. He moves slowly, carefully, giving you every opportunity to pull back. But you don’t. You can’t. You’re rooted in place as his hand reaches for you.

His palm gently rests on your jaw. Your eyes flutter closed against your consciousness, and the tension that’s been coiling in your chest slowly unwinds, replaced by a sense of calm. When his thumb slides across your cheek, he speaks again. His voice is so close it's as if the words themselves are brushing over your lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

You inhale sharply. The word "Yes" hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you don't need to say it out loud. He can already see the answer in the way you’re leaning into him, and his mouth is on yours in an instant.

The reality is, you’ve kissed Spencer before. Plenty of times, actually. You know the feel of his lips, the way they can be both gentle and demanding, the way he tastes faintly of coffee or something sweet when he’s had a treat. You also think back to those hurried kisses in the past when time was short and the world was pressing down on you. Or the playful pecks that came with laughter. Even the desperate, heated moments when the need to feel something, anything, was too overwhelming to resist.

This kiss, however, isn’t like any of those. This one is slow, and achingly tender. His movements are unhurried. The way his lips glide over yours carries a deep sense of care, like he’s trying to memorize every soft curve. Just as you begin to melt in his arms, he pulls away slightly, not very far, but enough to hover close that you can still feel the heat of his breath on your lips.

There’s a tense silence as the tip of his nose brushes gently against your cheek. You can tell he’s giving you the space to decide what happens next, and there are a lot of scenarios running in your head. You could push him away, repeating history all over again. You could be in denial and pretend all of this never even happened. But something inside you snaps.

Maybe it’s the way he’s holding back, so gentle, so careful, too afraid of pushing too far. Or maybe it’s the realization that you don’t want him to hold back, that you need more, that you’re tired of resisting what you’ve both been dancing around for so long. Before you can second guess yourself, you’re clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him closer.

He tenses for a moment, but the hesitation is gone almost as soon as it appears. His mouth finds yours again, and he lets out a deep, relieved sigh. You feel the soft, insistent push of his tongue against the seam of your lips. You hold onto him, parting your mouth eagerly before he slips his tongue with a desperation that catches you off guard.

Then his hands seem to be everywhere all at once, tracing the curve of your spine, sliding down to the small of your back, and brushing along the edge of your jaw. His fingers then tangle in your hair, tugging gently while his other hand skims over your waist. But when his hand slips inside your shirt, calloused fingers brushing your soft skin, you slowly pull away. “W-Wait.”

His eyes widen slightly, and you can feel the shift in his body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” you say quickly, tugging him closer again. “I just… I think we should continue this conversation somewhere more… private?”

He pauses for a moment. “Really?”

“If you want to.”

A subtle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are you trying to seduce me for sex?”

You’re oscillating between being incredibly turned on and equally mortified. In a sense, yes, that’s what you’re asking. But you didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. You don’t think he’s ever been this direct in the past, and now you’re wondering if you missed something before, or if he’s just tapped into a level of confidence you’re struggling to keep up with.

“Would it be inappropriate if I said that I am?” you ask hesitantly, and you can’t help but wince a little as the words leave your mouth.

“Since when have you been worried about being inappropriate with me?”

“Well, Spencer, if you haven’t noticed, there’s a five-year gap since the last time we slept together.”

His hand on your waist tightens slightly. “Five years too long, if you ask me.” Then he pulls you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. “You do realize this is you giving me a second chance, right?"

In a way, you do. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that you were better off keeping your distance. Walking away in the past was easy, but now… now it feels different. The years have stretched on, and the excuses you’ve made have started to wear thin. Especially when just being near him is starting to stir memories you thought you’d buried—some good, some less so—but all intense, all Spencer.

Maybe he's right. Maybe five years is too long to pretend that whatever was between you didn't matter.

You slowly meet his gaze. “I realize.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

You hesitate, not out of doubt, but because of the sheer gravity of what you're about to say.

"Maybe."

His sigh is audible when he hears your answer, and without missing a beat, he brushes the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on your lips. “Maybe is good.” Kiss. “I can take—” Kiss. Kiss. “—maybe.”

You think you should say something more, but all coherent thoughts scatter the instant his lips meet yours again. You return his kisses, hesitant at first, but quickly falling into a rhythm that feels achingly familiar. It doesn’t take long until his lips move into something more urgent. There’s a hunger there, a pent-up longing that he can no longer hold back. His tongue flicks against yours, teasing, coaxing, and you know you need to stop him before he starts to undress you right there on the couch.

You reluctantly pull back. “Bedroom. Now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls you to your feet, and you’re practically dragging him to the guest bedroom. When the door closes behind you, he’s quick to guide you toward the bed, his hands firm on your hips as he steers you backward. The moment your legs hit the edge of the bed, he pauses, his hands lingering on your waist, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Having second thoughts?” You tease. The sarcasm drips sweetly in your voice, knowing full well he’s been trying to win your heart the entire evening.

“No,” he mutters. “I’m trying to see if you are.”

You draw back from his arms just enough to climb onto the bed and lay down in the middle. “Does it look like I am?”

He shakes his head with that cute, bashful smile. Although there’s nothing bashful about the way he pulls off his hoodie and tosses it carelessly onto the floor. The shirt underneath is crumpled, and his hair is even messier, sticking up in ways that make you want to run your hands through it.

“Come here,” you motion for him. Without hesitation, he crawls between your legs and leans in for another kiss. His hair feels like the smoothest silk when you finally reach for it. There’s a slight dampness from the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way it curls just slightly at the ends, brushing against your forehead as he dips his head to capture your mouth.

You don’t think you can ever get tired of kissing him. There’s a familiarity in the way he moves. His lips mold perfectly to yours, soft yet demanding, as if he knows exactly how to draw out the deepest parts of your desire. And you feel it everywhere. In your pulse, in your veins, all the way down to the spot between your legs.

It intensifies even more when his lips begin to trail down your neck. You feel the first warm rush of arousal pooling in your panties when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, the fluttering veins below your jaw with so much intensity as if he's taking every one of your heartbeats for himself. Your grip tightens in his hair as he marks another spot near your collarbone.

“I’ve missed this so much,” he murmurs as he slowly nips down your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

You can only hum a reply, your voice catching in your throat as your head starts to spin from the way his hands are now trailing down your side. He reaches the hem of your shirt and pauses, fingers lightly tugging at the fabric.

“Can I take this off?” He asks, pulling back slightly just enough to look down at you. With his messy hair falling into his glossy brown eyes and swollen wet lips, how can you possibly say no to him?

Without a second thought, you nod, your fingers already moving to help him with the fabric. His eyes never leave yours as he slowly lifts your shirt. It slides up over your skin, and you raise your arms to let him pull it off completely, tossing it aside without a care. Your bra comes off next, and when that follows to the floor, his eyes sweep over your body.

There’s a certain look in his gaze. Devotion would be too strong of a word, but it’s something close—something softer, yet just as intense. You’ve seen desire before, felt it in fleeting touches and heated glances, but this is different. This feels different. It’s as if his gaze is reaching into the spaces between your thoughts, gently pulling at the threads that hold you together to unravel you in the most tender of ways.

He kisses the spot between your breasts.

“You’re always so pretty.”

He gives a soft peck just above your heart.

“So incredibly beautiful.”

Then his tongue flicks along the delicate curve of your chest, making a slow, teasing trail upward until he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks gently, rolling it around with his tongue, and you’re mesmerized by the lewd scene of him drawing your flesh between his lips. Your fingers instinctively find their way back into his hair, tugging on the soft strands as he continues to lap at your sensitive skin.

He then shifts slightly, his mouth releasing your nipple with a soft, wet sound before moving to give the same attention to the other. While he suckles and nibbles on one hardened peak, he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger, sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core. If you thought you were wet before, you’re certain you’re drenched by now. Your panties cling uncomfortably and the growing desire makes you ache to peel them off.

He must sense your growing need because his kisses trail lower, down to your stomach, while his fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings. His touch is teasing, slipping just under the elastic, and you instinctively lift your hips, silently begging for more. He takes his time as he slides the fabric down your legs, his knuckles brushing against your skin before discarding them somewhere in the room.

Your attention is on him as his palm dances along your inner thigh, and the closer he gets to where you ache him the most, the more your breath hitches in your throat. When his thumb brushes over the wet patch on your panties, your hips buck against him. “Spencer…”

He glances over at you and lets out the most appreciative sigh. You really are beautiful. Eyes full of lust, skin flushed with his marks. You’re a vision of longing, and every part of him is consumed by the sight of you. “Yes?”

You squirm under his gaze. “Aren’t you… going to take them off?”

A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “What, these?” He gives a playful tug at the edge of your panties, his fingers just barely slipping beneath the fabric before pulling away. “Are you sure you want them off?”

You try to hold back your groan when his thumb finds your clit. “Yes. I-I’m sure.”

He grins, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, but instead of giving in immediately, he begins to circle your clit slowly with his thumb, watching your reaction closely. “On a scale from one to ten, how sure are you?”

Now he’s starting to get on your nerves. You can’t hold back the small huff falling from your lips. He simply laughs then slowly takes off the last piece of your clothing. The cool air instantly hits your skin as he grabs your knees, spreading your legs apart. He skims along your naked body and when you notice where his gaze settles, you swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy.

It's kind of ironic, you think, how you've gotten this far, and now, of all times, you're suddenly blushing like a damn teenager. It's as if your brain is catching up to everything your body already knows—that this is real, and it's happening. You can't help but laugh at yourself a little. Here you are, all tangled up in each other, practically begging him to get you naked and yet you're acting shy now?

He seems to notice the shift in your mood, his hands pausing on your thighs as he looks up at you with concern. He tilts his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Did I do something wrong?”

You quickly shake your head. “I’m suddenly feeling very self-conscious.”

He studies your face for a moment. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” you blurt out, more forcefully than you intended, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab his wrist. “I… I guess I’m not used to feeling this exposed in front of you.”

He shifts slightly, moving closer so he’s eye-level with you, his hands still resting gently on your thighs. “We’ve done this countless times before.”

“I know, but that was years ago. Things feel different now… like there’s more at stake, maybe?” You let out a sigh. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” he reassures you. He soothes the skin behind your thighs. “But you don’t need to feel self-conscious with me. You’re beautiful, and I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, there’s no doubt you’ll end up giving him your heart on a silver platter by the end of this. He shifts lower down your body. “We can go as slow as you want,” he continues, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another. “Just tell me what you need.”

You take a deep breath as his soft stubble grazes your skin. “I need you.”

“Then you’ll have me.”

You watch with heavy lids as he drags his lips along your skin until he presses the most tender kiss on your cunt. He really wasn’t lying when he said he could go as slow as you want because every kiss is achingly gentle, barely more than a feather-light touch. It’s the kind of softness that makes you writhe beneath him, and before you know it, your fingers are tangling in his curls while your hips buck against his face.

There’s a slight vibration on your skin—it could be his laughter, or maybe just a hum of contentment—but you don’t bother deciphering it. You’re too lost in the sensation as his tongue breaches your folds. You peer down and watch as he trails the tip of his tongue through your wetness, slowly tracing up and down your slit until he flicks it against your clit.

You’re honestly gone after that. You’re not surprised, though. If there’s one thing Spencer Reid is good at, it’s knowing exactly how to use his mouth. Sure, he’s a bona fide genius who spouts off random facts and quotes obscure literature, but his mouth? His mouth is a whole different level of expertise. It’s almost unfair how good he is. It’s like he’s studied you, memorized every little thing that makes you go crazy, and now he’s putting all that knowledge to devastatingly good use.

And it’s not like he’s doing it just for your pleasure. It brings him the same deep satisfaction. His eyes are closed, and he seems to lose himself in the act, savoring every taste, every reaction, every subtle shift of your body beneath him. It’s as though he’s completely immersed in finding an almost insatiable need to drink in everything about you. His tongue delves deeper, swirling around your entrance before sucking gently on your folds, pulling the soft skin into his mouth.

You find yourself pressing his head closer to your heat. His eyes flickers up to you. “You’re back.” Your response is simply another push of his head. “Oh. Needy, are we now?”

"Mhm," you manage to squeak out, feeling a rush of wetness seeping out of you. He leans in, his tongue catching a bead of moisture before it drips further, dragging it between your slick folds.

Your grip in his hair tightens.

“Spencer…”

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a smile before his mouth descends again, this time focusing on your clit. His tongue flicks over the sensitive nub before he gently sucks, pulling it into his mouth with a slow rhythm that has you gasping. Each motion is perfectly timed and you feel yourself growing even wetter under his attention. His tongue swirls, then flattens before he sucks a little harder.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your stomach. The pleasure builds steadily, the tension winding tighter and tighter until it slowly overwhelms you. Spencer seems to sense it too, his hands gripping the back of your thighs a little tighter, pushing them further apart as he continues with unwavering focus. He’s not rushing, though, he’s savoring it, but his slow motion is enough to make you snap.

Your hips jerk against his mouth, and he doesn’t miss a beat, holding you steady as he continues his ministrations. He’s relentless in his gentleness, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from you, even as you’re left gasping for air. When you finally come down from the high, Spencer finally lifts his head and places a final, soft kiss on your inner thigh.

“Do you still feel self-conscious now?”

It takes you a moment before you can answer. You smile lazily at him. “Not after that.”

He grins and pulls you up into a sitting position. “Do you think you can give me another one?”

“Spencer,” you breathe out. “Even if you gave me thousands of orgasms, I’d probably ask for more.”

The laugh he lets out is warm and infectious, the sound vibrating through you in a way that makes you smile even wider. “Well,” he starts, slipping his hand down your thigh. “The human body is capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in a relatively short period of time, especially for women. So technically, you could keep asking for more, and I could keep giving them.”

“Even up to a thousand?”

“Maybe not to that extent.” He pulls you close, and you lean your weight against him. “Hold on to me.”

You do as you’re told and somehow you find yourself in a new position. When he spreads your legs apart, your senses go on high alert again. “Spence?”

He kisses your cheek, your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. “Try to relax.”

A gasp escapes your lips as his fingers dive between your thighs. Try to relax? Try to relax? Men and their audacity to tell you what to do, especially when they're the reason you're so wound up in the first place. Because how are you supposed to relax when his fingertips are brushing ever so gently over your clit? How are you supposed to calm your breathing when he’s spreading your arousal up and down your folds?

And how are you supposed to keep your composure when he suddenly fills you with, not one, but two of his fingers?

You feel yourself slipping and he tightens his other arm around your waist. “Told you to hold on.”

He’s starting to annoy you, but you listen to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. You take a deep breath as he starts to move his fingers. Soap, you decide. It must be his soap, because he smells clean and crisp, almost like fresh linen and a hint of something peppery. It’s almost distracting if it weren’t for the way his fingers are curling inside of you.

Then you feel that sensation again, the kind that ripples through every nerve of your body. At first, it’s manageable, an intensity you think you can handle. But when he suddenly changes his technique, everything shifts. His entire hand moves in a fast, up-and-down motion that catches you completely off guard, and before you know it, you’re whining, your grip tightening on him as your head falls on his shoulder.

The rapid pace makes your head spin. It feels like he’s pulling the control right out of your hands, leaving you questioning your own limits. You’ve seen yourself getting wet, you’ve felt yourself become drenched before, but you’ve never experienced anything like this. You never realized your body could produce this much liquid. It’s not an overwhelming amount, but more than you’ve ever seen from yourself, and it splatters against his hand, dripping down your thighs.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch when your nails claw into his shirt. He keeps going, and going, and going, until the only thing you hear is your rapid breathing against his neck and the slick, wet sounds he’s coaxing out of you. You’re overwhelmed (in the best way, of course) but you can’t stop yourself from cursing as the sensation intensifies, multiplies even.

It's not until your body starts to go limp that he finally takes pity on you. He slows down, his fingers pumping lazily inside you. “Good?”

“How did you—when did you—” you exhale a long breath. “I can’t feel my legs.”

He slowly withdraws his fingers out, only to rub your essence over your puffy clit, and your hips jerk once more before he finally stops. You're a trembling mess once you sink into the mattress.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you do that before.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that in my life.” Your eyes suddenly feel incredibly heavy that you can't resist letting them flutter close.

He kisses the tip of your nose. “Still up for another one?”

You peer through one eye, and when you catch him starting to undress himself, your other eye shoots open. The nod you give him is eager. His smile widens as he shrugs off his shirt, and you can’t help but let your gaze drop to the line of hair trailing down his stomach. You wonder what it would feel like under your tongue.

"Wait."

Your eyes snap back up to meet his. "What?"

His face twists into a grimace. “I don’t have a condom.”

Shit. Neither did you.

You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow and resting your head in your hand. “And you’re realizing this just now?”

“I was too focused with you."

And by that, he means giving you the most intense orgasm of your life. You watch as his fingers hover over his belt. “You really didn’t think of bringing one when you decided to come over?”

“My intention coming here wasn’t exactly for this.”

“Well, it would be great if you at least considered the possibility." You study his face and blurt out the first thing on your mind, “I don’t want to stop.”

He shifts his weight on the bed. “Me neither.”

“I mean… we could have sex without using one. We’ve done it before. Once.”

He recalls what you're referring to and lets out an amused laugh. “Are you sure? Didn’t you freak out when you realized your period was late?”

“That was a coincidence! I was stressed out at that time, but I’m safe now—I think.” You pause, brows furrowing as you start calculating your cycle in your head. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m not ovulating.”

“Pretty sure?”

You give him a look. “No, I’m actually sure. I know my body, and I’ve done the math. See?” You gesture vaguely, as if the numbers and facts are floating in front of you. “No ovulation in sight.”

The corners of his mouth twitches into a smile. “Alright then,” he murmurs, and leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “No ovulation in sight.”

“None,” you confirm before tugging his belt. “Can you please take off your pants now?”

He complies—with incredible speed—and when he’s finally as naked as you, your mouth waters at the sight of him. His cock is painfully hard, thick, with a bead of arousal glistening at the tip. You try to reach for him, but he has other plans. He crawls over your body and slips between your legs. He then grips the back of your thigh with one hand, pulling it up slightly to open you to him, while the other holds himself from the base.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The moan you let out is lewd. “Fuck, Spencer.”

An airy laugh slips out from him as he rubs the head of his cock around your clit. “So needy.”

You wiggle your hips. “Hurry up.”

He only hums in response, before easing his hips back just enough to drag his swollen tip through your slick outer lips. The underside of his cock splits your folds open with each stroke, and your head is spinning. It’s almost sweet how he’s taking this slow, but at this point, you’re so close to just shoving him inside you. You let out a frustrated whine when he pulls back, only to thrust forward just enough for the head of his cock to nudge at your entrance.

Your walls squeeze around him.

“O-Oh…” His mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where your bodies meet. “I… I don’t remember you being this tight.”

You follow his gaze, watching the way your outer lips swallow him inch by inch. “I-It’s been a while.”

He pushes further, and your nails dig into his shoulders as he stretches you in a way that feels almost too much, and you can't help but tense when he thrusts further. He wraps your leg around his waist before leaning down, propping his weight on his elbows.

“Need you to relax,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the pulse fluttering wildly in your neck. You do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Clench, unclench. And then you feel him easing inside you, oh-so-deliciously slow, until you squeak out a gasp when he finally fills you completely.

Because fuck, he stretches you—wrenches you open, and you’re consumed by his heat, the pressure, the sheer size of him. It overwhelms your senses, and all you can do is sing out a filthy moan. He follows your tune with a melody of his own, though his voice trembles, sounding more like he’s in pain as if he’s trying to hold himself back.

“You’re so warm,” he groans, his breath hot against your skin. “You okay?”

You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “More than okay.”

“Do you think I can move?”

“Please.”

There’s no hesitation in the way he pulls back, only to sink into you again. His hips roll against yours in a way that feels both achingly slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second to memorize the way you feel around him. It’s like he can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re giving him the chance to be tangled up with you in this position again.

And truthfully, neither can you.

But here you are, two bodies moving in perfect harmony, intertwined in the most primal, human way. Flesh against flesh, breath against breath. Even your heartbeats sync in the same rhythm. The world beyond seems to dissolve, leaving nothing but the pull of desire that draws you deeper into the moment, into him, until the boundaries of where you end and he begins blur into something undefinable.

It’s nonexistent. You’re glued to him, fused in a way that feels as if this is exactly where you belong.

No more running away, you decide.

“Kiss me.”

He’s in no position to decline, and within a heartbeat, he captures your lips in the sweetest kiss—well, as sweet as it can go. Because even though he tastes like honeyed warmth, his hips continue to pound into you, hitting that deep, tender spot inside. You whine against his lips. A needy, breathless sound that has him faltering for just a second, his hips stuttering against yours.

“You feel so—” he chokes on his words. “God, you’re so perfect.”

You’re perfect, you want to say, but you stop yourself, biting down on the words before they escape. It’s not that you don’t believe it. You just can’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. Not yet. Instead, your need wins out, pushing past everything else.

“More,” you gasp between shallow breaths.

He rests his forehead against yours. “Yeah? You want me to go faster?”

You whine in approval.

The instant he pulls back, his tip barely teasing your entrance before slamming into you again, a sharp gasp escapes your lips. He repeats the motion. Once. Twice. By the third time, he doesn’t hold back, driving his hips hard and fast, the wet sound of your bodies slapping together echoing off the walls.

You turn into a putty mess. You can barely think, let alone form words, your mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of him—inside you, around you. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, to the way he fills you so perfectly. His forehead stays pressed against yours the whole time, his lips hovering above yours he murmurs, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

But it’s not. It’s everything. Maybe even not enough. “I…” you gasp when a certain angle from him hits a deep spot inside you. “Oh, Spencer… harder, p-please.”

He’s more than happy to oblige.

He shifts slightly, then snaps his hips forward with a sudden, forceful thrust. He repeats the motion. Over and over again. His pace is relentless now, and he starts to pant, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts, every exhale brushing against your lips. There’s a tension in his body, a taut strain in muscles, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. And you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth, swallowing each of his gasps as his control starts to slip away.

“Where do you want—” His voice falters. “Can I—inside—”

You nod frantically. “Yes. Yes.”

It’s enough to push you both over the edge.

The sensation starts as a gentle warmth in your fingertips, slowly winding its way through your body. It weaves through your limbs, spirals up your spine, before gathering intensely at your core. You’re shaking, trembling, and you instinctively reach out for something to ground yourself. One hand threads into his curls, the other clutches his jaw.

Then it happens. His cock moves in a frantic rhythm, sending you spiraling deeper into intense pleasure for the third time tonight. Your inner walls tighten around him as your orgasm crashes through you, gripping him so tightly that it pulls a raw, breathless groan from his lips. He slams into you with uneven thrusts as he presses your body flat onto the bed, until he stops and shudders, spilling hot, white liquid deep inside you.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt something this intense before—not even with him in the past. Every inch of your body is buzzing as his warmth spreads through you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed. You cling to him, your nails softly grazing his back as he finally lets out a satisfied hum, his lips moving to pepper kisses along your face.

He starts with your left cheek. Two gentle kisses. He moves to your right, giving a light peck that lingers just a moment longer, almost as if he’s blowing a warm breath against your skin. You giggle as the air tickles you. Then finally, he settles on your lips with a sigh that merges into a kiss. It’s soft, sweet, and tenderly slow.

You let out another laugh when he finally pulls away.

“What?”

His curls fall messily on his forehead and you reach up, brushing it back. “You’re starting to grow on me.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I grow on you?” You simply nod. “Like fungus?”

Your fingers pause in his hair. “Like what?”

"You know, fungus. It grows on things. Like mold or mushrooms,” he explains and gives you a smile. "Am I growing on you like that?"

You’ve been apart for so long that you almost forgot how his brain works. His unexpected comparison sparks your amusement, so you decide to humor him. “Depends on what kind of mushroom you are.”

He looks thoughtful for a while. “There's this mushroom called mycorrhiza. It forms a symbiotic relationship with trees and helps them grow by improving water and nutrient absorption."

“And that makes you what, exactly?”

“Essentially indispensable.”

“So you’re claiming you’re good for me?”

A slow, confident grin spreads across his lips. “I’m saying I’m exactly what you need.”

You burst out laughing. Your cheeks might actually ache from smiling this much. “That was pretty smooth.”

He looks incredibly pleased with himself. Then after a quiet moment, he buries his face in the curve of your neck. You close your eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against yours, and a sigh escapes your lips. It’s like all the time you spent apart melts away in that single breath, and something inside you relaxes, as if he’s managed to sneak back into the parts of you you’d forgotten existed.

Maybe he is right. Maybe, after all this time, he’s exactly what you need.

You wake up to the sound of clatter. It’s loud, jarring, and it echoes around the house. You stir in bed, stretching your limbs before tensing when you feel something poking your back. Your hazy mind immediately snaps into alert, and you open your eyes fully, glancing toward the window. Sunlight is already pouring into the room, far too bright for how early you thought it was.

You quickly turn over to the other side.

“Spencer. Spencer!” you hiss, shaking his shoulders urgently. “Wake up! We overslept!”

He groans softly but doesn’t move. Another loud clatter bounces off the walls, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest.

“Spencer,” you whisper sharply, eyes widening. “I think Matt is home.”

That finally gets his attention. He blinks his eyes open. “Wha—?”

You’re already halfway out of bed, rushing to the window to peek through the curtains. Sure enough, you spot your brother’s car parked in the driveway. “Yep, he’s here,” you mutter under your breath, the panic rising as you turn back to Spencer. “And now he’s going to kill us.”

“He’s not going to kill us,” he mumbles, but even by his voice, you can tell he’s not entirely convinced. You watch as he finally slips out of bed, scrambling to pick up his clothes scattered across the floor. “We talked about this last night. It’s not going to be as bad as you think.”

You shoot him a look before quickly pulling on your own clothes.

“There’s a big difference between telling him, and him finding out that his sister is sleeping with his friend while he was away taking care of his wife and baby.” You yank your shirt over your head. “In his freaking house.”

When you put it that way, Spencer’s heart sinks a little. Although Matt isn’t a violent person, he has twice the muscle he does, and it’s not hard to imagine him being a lot less forgiving in a situation like this. He can’t help but picture the worst-case scenario even though Matt’s always been the reasonable type.

Until now, maybe.

“Do you think I should climb out the window?”

You stare at him in disbelief. "Spencer, you’re not sixteen.”

“Actually, I’ve never been in a situation like this,” he admits, pulling up his pants. “My biggest concern when I was sixteen was getting my first PhD.”

You forgot how ridiculously smart he is. Smarter than most people, definitely smarter than you. “Well now you’re getting firsthand experience.” You start pacing around the room. “Let’s just try to stay calm.”

“That’s kind of hard to do when your brother could walk in while I’m half-naked.”

You look at him in horror. “Then put your damn shirt on!"

Before he can reply, there's a noise from outside the room—a quick shuffle of steps, light and rapid, as if someone’s rushing down the hall. You barely have time to react before the door is wrenched open.

But it's not your brother.

It's far worse.

You feel your stomach drop when your eyes lands on the small figure of your nephew, standing there with wide eyes. His gaze shifts back and forth—from you, disheveled and clearly flustered, to Spencer, whose bare back is facing the door, still fumbling with his pants. From little Jake's point of view, it must look like the most confusing sight, because he quickly retreats, bolting down the hallway.

“Dad! Help! There’s a strange man in Auntie’s room!”

You don’t know whether to laugh or panic. The fact that Jake didn’t recognize Spencer without his usual suit is almost comical. You glance at him, noticing how his body has tensed, his back straightening in alarm.

“Who was that?” he whispers, turning to you with wide eyes.

"Jake.” You blow a strand of hair that falls across your face. “Who apparently thinks you're an intruder."

The blood seems to drain from his face. “He didn’t recognize me?”

Your eyes flick over his appearance—his wild, tangled hair sticking out in all directions, bare chest still slightly flushed from sleep, and pants barely zipped. “Not when you look like this, no.”

But before he can respond, you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway, heavier this time.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Shit.”

“I should have climbed out the window.”

The idea of him dangling from the window is even more absurd. You glance toward the door. "Okay, wait here. Let me talk to Matt first." Your eyes flicker to his bare chest again, and you let out the most exasperated sigh. "And please, for the love of God, put on your shirt."

You don’t have time to wait for his response as you rush out of the room, quickly closing the door behind you. You take a second to catch your breath, trying to compose yourself, when a noise down the hallway draws your attention. Only then do you notice Matt cautiously advancing towards your way, his back against the wall.

That’s when you spot the gun in his hand.

“Seriously?” you hiss, staring at him in disbelief. “What the hell, Matthew!”

He looks at you, equally surprised. “Jake said there was a strange man in your room!” he replies defensively, tightening his grip on the weapon. “What was I supposed to think?“​

Your eyes shift toward your nephew, who’s peeking around the corner, his little head barely visible as he watches the scene unfold. This is definitely not how you expected your morning to go. A simple, awkward conversation was one thing, but having to disarm your brother while explaining this mess was an entirely different level.

“There’s no intruder, Matt. Put the gun down.”

He looks past you, his eyes zeroing in on the closed bedroom door. “Then who’s in there?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. There’s no easy way to explain this. How do you even start? That Spencer is standing half-naked in the guest room, trying to gather his dignity after being mistaken for an intruder by a six-year-old? You never thought you'd have to introduce Spencer to your brother this way, in his own house, under these chaotic circumstances.

You can feel Matt's eyes boring into you, waiting for an answer. All you can think is how ridiculous this all must look, and how there's no good way to smooth over the fact that, yes, Spencer Reid, his friend slash teammate, is behind the door. And the most absurd part? A part of you is more worried about the look on Matt's face than the fact that he's holding a gun.

“Please don’t be mad.”

You hold your breath as you slowly reach for the doorknob. You push the door open and let out a small, relieved sound when you see Spencer fully dressed, looking almost presentable, except for the wild hair that refuses to settle. He gives you a small nod before stepping out of the room.

“Uncle Spencer?” Jake’s small voice cuts through the tension. Matt’s gaze darts between you two, his jaw tightening as he puts the pieces together. You can see the moment realization hits him full force.

“Reid?” Matt’s voice is incredulous, bordering on betrayed. “What the hell is going on?”

“I can explain,” you say cautiously. “It’s not exactly how it looks.”

“Not exactly how it looks?” Matt echoes, his eyes narrowing at you, then shifting back to Spencer. “You’re in my guest room looking like you just rolled out of bed—”

“Fully clothed now,” Spencer cuts in quickly, which only earns him a frown from Matt.

“Not helping,” you mutter under your breath, shooting Spencer a look before turning back to your brother. “Fine, it’s exactly how it looks like. So… uh, surprise?”

You watch so many emotions flashing in his eyes. Matt’s always been a good brother. Sometimes annoying, but always reliable. He doesn’t usually get angry at you—quite the opposite, actually. He’s calm, level-headed, and more prone to offering advice than raising his voice. But now? The frustration is clear in his eyes.

He’s not mad exactly, but he’s definitely not happy either.

“Surprise?” Matt repeats, his voice flat. His gaze flick back to Spencer, who’s now shifting his weight awkwardly beside you. “This is how you decided to tell me?”

“Okay, it’s not how we planned it, obviously.”

“Clearly,” he deadpans. You put on the best innocent face you can muster.

You put on the best, innocent-looking face you can muster.

“Maaatttt,” you try again, deciding to use a different approach by being cute this time. “Don’t be so harsh.”

To your relief, it actually works on him, like it usually does whenever you try to charm your way out of trouble. His tough exterior falters because, no matter what, you’re still his baby sister. His face softens for a moment, shoulders dropping as he lets out a sigh.

“I’m not mad, okay? But I am your brother. And you,” he adds, pointing at Spencer. “You’re supposed to be my friend. I feel like I should’ve known about this before… well, before finding you like this.” Your shoulders slumps at his words. “How long has this been going?”

Now that is a tricky question. Explaining that you and Spencer occasionally had sex five years ago definitely isn’t something your brother needs to hear right now—or ever, really. You can almost feel Spencer tense beside you, probably having the same thought.

You clear your throat. “Last night.”

"Last night?" Matt looks at you as if you’re crazy. It might be the most disapproving look he’s ever given to you. "You're telling me this just started last night?"

"But—" you quickly add, holding up a hand to stop his train of thought. "We’ve been talking for a while, it’s not like it happened out of nowhere. Last night was just the first time we decided to actually do something about it."

“Right under my roof?” Matt’s brows pinches upward. “You lied about having a headache, didn’t you?”

“Wait, you had a headache? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You’re not sure you can handle two men pestering you at the same time. You focus on your brother instead.

“Look, we didn’t plan anything yesterday. Things just… happened,” you say, trying to explain without making it sound worse than it already does. “But it’s not only about last night. For what it’s worth, we were planning to tell to you. Just not like this.”

Your brother cocks an eyebrow. “So this isn’t a one-time thing?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “God, no,” he says. You feel an arm snake around your waist. “I care about her. A lot.”

Matt stares at Spencer for a long moment, his face a mixture of frustration, concern, and something else. Acceptance, maybe. He looks back at you. “Is this what you want?”

You feel Spencer’s grip tighten on your waist. He’s also waiting for your answer.

“It’s what I want.”

Spencer’s thumb brushes over you as Matt lets out a long breath, his grip on the gun finally relaxing. “This feels weird.”

“In a good way?”

“In a bizarre kind of way.” Matt’s falls falls on Spencer again. “I’m still trying to process this, but if you hurt her—”

“I won’t,” Spencer promises. “I swear.”

“Good, because you know I can put you back to prison if you do.”

Oh, he knows. Spencer understands exactly what he means, after all, Matt was one of the few people who helped clear his name during one of the most horrific moments of his life. Even if there’s a slight jab in his words, Spencer can tell he’s being dead serious. Especially with that gun still attached to his grip.

You, on the other hand, are hearing this for the first time. “Wait, what?” you blurt out. “Prison? You went to prison?”

Spencer merely shrug. Matt finally lowers his weapon, shaking his head as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. “I need coffee,” he mutters, turning toward the kitchen.

“Wait…” Jake finally peeks out from behind the wall. You blink your eyes, forgetting he’s even there. “Does this mean Uncle Spencer is your boyfriend now?”

You feel three pair of eyes on you. Matt’s gaze is sharp. Spencer’s expression is cautious. And then there’s Jake, looking up at you with the straightforward curiosity only a child can have. To him, things are simple. Either you are, or you aren’t, and in hindsight, it really is a straightforward question. But nothing about this situation has been straightforward.

You look at Spencer for a fraction of a second. You can see the nervous hope reflected in his eyes. Maybe Jake’s question isn’t just his… maybe it’s Spencer’s too.

And sure, maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe it really is as simple as saying—

“Yes.” You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. “I suppose he is.”

If you’ve ever seen Spencer being happy, it pales in comparison to this. His eyes light up, and he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. A genuine, almost boyish smile spreads across his face as you feel his warmth seep into your skin. There’s so much affection in his gaze it makes your chest tighten. He’s not just happy. He’s beaming.

Matt clears his throat awkwardly. “Come on, kiddo, let’s grab what your mom needs and get back to the hospital.” He glances back at you. “You guys coming?”

You nod absentmindedly. “Sure.”

He throws you both a look. Not hateful, but definitely not warm either. You see him grip his gun from the corner of your eye, more out of habit than necessity, before steering his son away with a firm hand on his shoulders.

“That went better than expected,” Spencer mutters the moment your brother is out of earshot.

“‘It’s not going to be as bad as you think’,” you mock, reciting the words he said to you half an hour ago.

“It wasn’t.”

“Spencer, he held a gun.”

“He thought I was an intruder. I would’ve done the same thing,” he points out, his tone surprisingly calm as he holds you by your waist. “Relax, okay? He’ll come around us. Eventually.”

“You’re awfully optimistic about this.”

“He likes me.”

He does have a point. Matt has always had a soft spot for Spencer, but you’re not sure how far that can go after what just happened. “I think you might have lost a few brownie points today.”

He considers the truth in your words. “Maybe,” he admits with a shrug. “But at least I earned a few with you.”

“Because of the boyfriend thing?” He’s grinning so wide that his eyes practically disappear into crescent moons. You poke the slightest dimple on his cheek. “Don’t act so smug. I’m still trying to process the fact that I’m dating an ex-felon.”

“I was framed,” he explains, and the way he says it so nonchalantly only deepens your confusion. He tries to smooth your frown with a kiss. “I’ll tell you everything on our first date.”

“Who said I’ll go on a date with you?”

“You will,” he simply says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“And what makes you so sure?”

Because he’s always been sure. The man who doubts everything, who overanalyzes every situation, looks at you with a certainty that makes your heart swell. You’ve seen that look before—the one that says he’s considered every possible outcome and decided this is the one that matters most. There’s something magnetic about it, the way he seems to know exactly what he wants, and right now, it’s you.

“Because I’m your mushroom.”

He’s so silly, yet there’s something so perfectly Spencer about it that makes the idea of not going on a date with him feel impossible. You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but the warmth in your chest tells you he’s already won your heart.

And you don’t mind him keeping it.

[aeriefel]

❛ i hope you find the peace you’re searching for. ❜

The cavern yawned like the great big mouth of a beached fish, the passage twisting in darkness the further into the throat you went. Dread sunk in Eri’s gut with the tact of a stone plunging into the sea.

She didn’t remember how she got here. There was a fight - yes, a bad one. In Coerthas, she and Sarien had fought tooth and nail, rolling around in the dirt as their fists connected to bone and blood drenched the snow. Ugh. She could feel the welt Sarien left on her eye and taste the sharp cut on her lip. But she couldn’t remember how they ended up here…

A ball of yellow flame hovered some feet before her. Eri blinked blearily at it.

A heavy thunk sent Eri jumping back into the wall and she broke into a surprised shriek when pain, sharp and jagged, clawed its talons deep through the bone in her leg.

“Oh what, oh what, oh what!” Eri gripped her leg but knocked her head back when it just made the pain worse. Dark spots swam in her vision. “What?!”

Eri felt blindly around her leg. Broken leg. She had a broken leg. It had to be. She had - she had to set the bone. Leg had to heal. Crutches. Weeks - months to heal. Weeks if Eri had anything to say about it. She had to - “Fuck!” Eri rubbed the heels of her palms into her eyes and bit down hard on her lip. Iron bled into her mouth.

Eri couldn’t afford this. Even with all her expertise and all the healing in the world, a broken leg would set her back weeks. She didn’t have weeks! She didn’t even have days!

Hands pushed her own aside. Sarien, bruised and scratched, swam into her vision. “No-” Eri threw out a punch - weak, and a terrible one - but Sarien knocked it aside without so much as a second thought. She pinned Eri's shoulders to the cold wall.

“Hold. Still.” Sarien ordered through gritted teeth. Her plated gloves dug into Eri’s shoulders.

Eri swiped at Sarien’s face with a palm full of magic. Sarien pinned Eri’s wrist to the wall instead, the magic fizzing. “I said hold. Still.”

Eri's tail slapped the ground. She searched Sarien's face and made perhaps the worst choice she could've made - she stopped.

Sarien hissed at her and dropped her hands. She pulled a line of thick cotton from her pocket and started wrapping Eri’s thigh.

“What are you doing?”

“Splinting your leg. What the hell do you think I’m doing?” Sarien scoffed. “Aren’t you supposed to be a healer? This should be obvious.” She grabbed a branch and tied it against Eri’s leg with that same cotton.

Eri watched her warily, grimacing when Sarien jostled her leg. She hissed and breathed out quick through her nose at the pain. “Why are you helping me?”

Sarien glanced at her. She started tying a second wrap around Eri’s calf, but didn’t answer. And knowing her, she wasn’t going to answer.

Eri dropped her head back against the wall with a groan. Typical. “Could you at least tell me how we got here?”

“Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Do you always deflect?”

Sarien rolled her eyes and tightened the wrap, making Eri jolt. A smug little smile twitched Sarien’s stony mouth. “We fell into a ditch. There was a cave.”

Vague. And short. Eri sighed. She shouldn’t have expected anything different. When had Sarien ever been forthcoming with information? “Why are we so deep inside it, then?” Eri gestured around them with a wave of her arms, wincing when Sarien finished tying the splint with a tight knot.

“It was snowing. You were unconscious. I don’t think you need help putting two and two together.” Sarien stood and dusted off her hands.

Eri narrowed her eyes. Sarien looked at her and rolled her own. “You were knocked the fuck out. What did you want me to do? Leave you in the snow?”

“We were fighting each other. I hit you with a boulder!”

“Yeah. And?” Sarien crossed her arms. Her bangs slid over the one eye that wasn’t hidden behind her blindfold. Somehow, the red ring around her iris seemed to glow even brighter. Maybe it was simply that they were this close to each other and not going for each other’s throats. Eri never really took the time to study her closely before.

“It just… I thought you would’ve left me there. It would’ve been easy. Unless…” Unless Sarien wanted to help her. Unless she didn’t want to leave Eri in the snow.

Eri smiled smugly at her adversary.

Sarien grimaced. “Don’t look at me like that. Stop.”

“I knew it.”

“Fucking-”

“I knew it!”

“You know nothing about me!” Sarien snarled. The yellow flame behind her flickered. “Just - just stop! Don’t make me regret not leaving you in the snow.”

Eri wasn’t wrong, she knew she wasn’t. But she threw up her hands in peace and smiled at her instead. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I won’t say anything.”

“Eugh.” Sarien rolled her eyes. She stomped toward a pack laying on its side in the center of the room and swung it over her shoulder in one smooth motion, making the light that followed her flicker. Shadows dance dover her scales and made the deep obsidian color glimmer like jewels.

Eri quickly looked away.

Sarien slipped her other arm through the other strap and turned back to Eri. Her visible eye was hard and her mouth even more so. She came back over. “Don’t say a word.”

“Huh?” But Eri didn’t have time to think before Sarien scooped her up in her arms.

A gasp of pain wrenched through Eri’s throat. Sarien, with a frown, adjusted her hold until Eri’s bad leg was snug and Eri herself pressed into Sarien’s chest. Eri went absolutely still. The cold vanished from her body - Sarien radiated heat like a roaring fire; even her armor felt warm. The heat seeped through Eri’s clothes and into her skin and chased the cold away.

Sarien looked down at her, eye fierce. Eri met it readily, wide-eyed. Something twitched over Sarien’s mouth. A grimace? A frown? Sarien was just as stoic as ever.

Sarien looked away and walked into the dark corridor. The light followed her just behind her shoulder, bobbing on an unseen current. Eri took this time to rest her palm on her thigh and push magic into her leg. While she couldn’t fully heal the bone (if only), Eri could at least numb the pain and soothe the muscle.

Eri watched shadows flicker over Sarien’s face. All of this was so…out of the ordinary. It warred with everything Eri had ever seen the dark knight do. Helping Eri? Carrying her out? It completely went against the persona Sarien wore, the reputation she bore. Another smile pulled Eri’s mouth wide, which Sarien pointedly ignored with a flare of nostrils and a narrowed eye.

Eri knew it. She knew it. There was so much more to Sarien than met the eye and she knew it. There was good in her. 

“You’re insufferable.” Sarien huffed after a minute. Eri hadn’t realized she’d been staring for so long.

“You told me not to say anything.” Eri gently pat Sarien’s chest. She almost missed the way Sarien’s fingers flexed in her coat. “I was doing good!” 

“Good isn’t at all how I’d describe it.”

“I was being kinda obvious, huh?” 

“It’s a wonder that you ever became the Warrior of Light, you have no subtlety whatsoever.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe that’s a good thing?” 

Sarien looked at her, then. Her one eye alone could’ve pinned Eri to the spot from its intensity. Part of her was so very glad the other remained hidden behind the blindfold. “It’s not.” Sarien answered finally. “You’re predictable and easy to read.”

“You’re pretty predictable, too, you know.” Sarien scoffed at that but Eri continued, “You are! A person just has to know a few things about you and it’s easy peasy to figure you out. Maybe that’s just me, though. None of the others think so. I guess I’m just that good.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.”

“Then what do you think I’m thinking?”

“I don’t care what you’re thinking. I just want you out of my business.”

Eri huffed. Sarien kept moving forward, each step strong and sure. She didn’t say anything else.

Eri blew a long breath through her nose. “I’m going to get you to see it.” Eri said, adjusting her arm around Sarien’s neck. She winced when she pressed her fingers into her knee, sucking in a sharp breath between her teeth. The pain in her leg began to subside as her magic worked its way through her bone. “One day. No matter how long it takes.”

“What are you on now?”

“You have a good heart, Sarien.”

“Ugh, not this again. I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m not going to stop until it finally gets through your head. You can go about your goal in a different way. You can do so much good –”

“ – and you can protect Eorzea with us, yadda yadda yadda. Whatever.” Sarien adjusted her hold on her. “I’ve told you plenty of times that your way won’t get you anywhere.

“But yours won’t, either.” Eri replied softly. “You’ll be lonely and sad with yours.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Eri looked at her - really looked at her. And felt sad. “I hope you find the peace you’re searching for." she told her. "If not by yourself, then…maybe with a friend?”

Sarien didn’t answer.

They didn’t talk the rest of the way back outside. Sarien turned a corner and the mid-morning light met them, shining through the mouth of the cave. Just outside the cave was a wall of rock that curved up a good few yalms, and at the very top was –

Eri shielded her eyes against the sun. “Thancred?”

“Ah, Eri.” The man, silhouetted by the sun, cut a dark figure against the blinding snow, but she could make out the line of his smirk even from down below. “There you are! We’d been looking for you.” His eyes cut to Sarien and his jaw set. “Though, preferably without present company. Are you unharmed?”

“My leg is broken.”

“Did Sarien –”

“No, I fucking did not.” Sarien snapped. “Just come fucking get her before I leave her down here.”

Thancred rubbed his brow, mouth twitching. “Yes yes. There is a path to your right. I will meet you down there. Do not try anything.” He held his hand up to his ear as he ducked down and vanished from sight.

Sarien’s grip on her tightened. When Eri looked up at her, Sarien's limbal ring was bright red. “Sarien?”

A deep, hard frown etched its way over her face. Sarien didn’t look at her. “When we meet again, we’re enemies.”

“But…”

“I don’t care. I will see my vision fulfilled, one way or another. What happened here today was an outlier. I refuse to have my enemy defeated by her own two feet when I can defeat you without gravity kicking your ass.”

Thancred pushed aside brush and jumped down the last yalm, bypassing the last part of the path. He approached with arms outstretched, a vision of ease when, really, he was anything but. “Hand her to me.” he said, voice low.

“Gladly.” Sarien strode to him and shoved Eri into his arms. Eri’s leg dropped too fast and the pain sent her body twisting into Thancred’s chest, biting down on the scream that almost tore through her throat. Tears pinpricked her eyes in a dizzying, spinning array of dark stars.

Something flashed over Sarien’s face – pain? Regret? Eri couldn’t make it out through the world spinning. Whatever it was, it was gone before Eri could tell her it wasn’t her fault, replaced instead by her all too familiar glare.

“Do you always have to do things the hard way?” Thancred snapped at Sarien as he steadied Eri in his arms. Her fist was white-knuckled tight in his jacket. “You did not have to shove her!”

“Just be glad I didn’t take her out when I had the chance.” Sarien snarled back. She waved her hand. Behind her, the flame collapsed in on itself then stretched wide open into a swirling, screaming portal. “Next time, she won’t be so lucky.”

Sarien looked at Eri one last time, an unreadable glint in her eye. The last thing Eri saw of Sarien before the portal winked shut was how her tail, normally held high and proud, hung low between her legs.

[simphornies]

Can I please request Vox x Female Angel Reader (PS: Vox doesn't know what was happening to him ever since he met Reader just like in quote he ask himself "Why is my heart racing whenever I'm with her? Why am I short circuiting? And etc)

A/N: Wondrous idea! This one's been brewing for a bit though it is shorter than my other ones. There are two requests for this so for the other person that requested it, worry not! It is on the way!

Word count: 2k (2,041)

Fallen for you [Vox x Angel!F!Reader]

You made the choice to sneak into hell during the extermination. Amongst the chaos you carefully ran around rubble to rubble. Your angelic powers allowed you to heal angels, mortals and sinners alike to which you used to salvage those who could be salvaged.

You kept yourself hidden from the exorcists so they could't drag you back up to heaven on their way back from the massacre. But you didn't could't keep yourself hidden from the VoxTek cameras that roamed and covered the area.

You ran into the nearest building that had three V's plastered on the top, making sure your wings were tucked away. You look around, everyone in the building seemed to be in a trance, their eyes filled with spirals. It creeped you out a bit. You kept your head down as you roamed.

"Well, who do we have here?" A voice came from behind you, the suddenness causing you to jump. You freeze in your tracks, it certainly wasn't an exorcist's voice so you slowly turn around. Your head stayed lowered, "Pardon the intrusion, I'll leave now." You respond.

You tried to walk around the tall figure in front of you but he quickly blocked your way, neon blue shoes stepping closer. You look up slowly, a little scared. You were met with a grinning demon, with a television for a head? You couldn't help but cock your head in confusion.

He chuckles in response, "You must be new here." His hand reached out to you, you shook it, "Vox! Nice to meet you, stranger. And who might you be?"

"It's Y/N." You awkwardly, and nervously, smile at him, "It's a pleasure to meet you but I'll be taking my leave now! Hah..." You pull your hand away but he grabs it back, not allowing you to take a step.

"You're definitely not from around here, sweets." His eye spirals at you. You feel yourself fall into a bit of a trance, "Let's continue our conversation in my office." You weren't able to stop him from dragging you to his office.

When you came to, you found yourself sat on a chair. In front of you is Vox, watching you intently. "I haven't caused anything out of the ordinary. I'd hate to waste your time, this is not necessary-" You try to explain.

A screen comes down next to him before he speaks. "You're not from here." He speaks in a low, distorted voice. The screen shows clips of you flying down amongst the exorcists, wings in plain view, followed by you sneaking around. "You're an angel and you're in my building." His voice sounded threatening. "What business do you have here and why are you helping hell."

"I..." You sigh, "Look. I snuck out of heaven. I don't want to be there anymore and with the exorcists leaving, they most likely have noticed I left for hell. I'm bound to be a fallen any day now and I honestly could care any less. Look, I'll...I'll work for you!" You pleaded, "Please just don't let anybody else know."

.

It's been a while since you struck a non-binding deal with Vox. You two got close after a couple months of him being on guard around you. Well, he's still on guard around you no matter how much you've tried to get his walls down. He kept his end of the stick, reasons unknown to you and told nobody about your secret. You chose to share it with the other Vees though and they were more than glad to have such power on their side.

Vox watched as you conversed with the two, his mind racing as quick as his heart. He didn't understand why in the fuck, his words, he couldn't compose himself properly around you. Your smile alone could make hims heart pound out of his chest. For a while he was convinced it was some angelic power but it was quickly debunked by you. You always smiled and your smile warmed his cold heart, constantly making him short circuit.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't realize you were in front of him, repeating his name over and over. He genuinely thought it was all in his head since his mind was constantly filled with the thought of you. You repeated his name over and over until he snapped out of it.

"Vox? Vooooox?" You repeated until he finally set his gaze on you, "Vox, are you okay? What's going on? You were kinda wonky there for a second. There's sparks coming out of you."

"Y/N! I'm fine. Appreciate the concern," He lied, "I'm just...thinking." He turned away from you so you couldn't see his screen glitching. He pretended like he was just looking out the window.

"Anyways," You looked out the window, admiring whatever he's looking at, the sharks you assume. "Vel and Val said we're going out tonight. And they told me to tell you to dress up, or something."

"Thank you. I'll get ready soon."

"Hey." You place a hand on his shoulder. He finally looks at you, staring into your eyes that hypnotized him better than he could hypnotize anybody. "If you need anything, I'll help you. You know that, right?" Your words received a small smile from him.

"Thank you, angel." Angel became a nickname of sorts from him to you. You smile sweetly at him and head out to get ready.

.

Vox was an absolute mess. He was the last to get ready for once and not Valentino. He wanted to look his best and though this usually wasn't a problem for him, it was now. For some reason he couldn't understand he needed to look his best around you.

Velvette bursts into his room while he's frantically trying to pick a bowtie. "What the fuck is taking so long with you? I expect this shit from Valentino but not from you."

He groans, "I can't pick a damn outfit!" He glitched.

"Why in the dead fuck do you care?" She scoffed, putting his outfit together for him with a swipe of her hand.

"I..." He took a deep breath, "I don't know. I feel like Y/N has some weird angelic power on me. I just can't stop thinking about her ever since I met her. She always short-circuits me, making my fans go on overdrive and-"

"Woah woah woah. Slow the fuck down." Velvette laughed, "You are such a fucking dumbass! You're so stupid." She was now on the floor, cackling at him.

"What?!"

"You like her. You're so dense. Oh my fuck." She gets up, wiping tears off her eyes, "I'm so gonna tell her."

"NO." He yelled, voice distorted and eye spiraling. "I'll do it. Later."

"Bet you won't, pussy."

.

You arrived a little bit after the Vees. You had something, or rather someone, to take care of. Ever since you were officially fallen from heaven, you've gotten quite accustomed to death and the whole "fighting for your life" thing.

Vox was impatiently awaiting your arrival, constantly fidgeting in his seat which earned him a kick or two from both Valentino and Velvette. Velvette caught Valentino up on Vox's situation and he wasn't hearing the end of it for the whole car ride.

He heard heels clicking and he turned a bit too quickly at your arrival. "Y/N! You've fi-finally arrived!" He glitched a bit again at the sight of you. He was never a fan of angels and frankly never understood the whole rave about their beauty but the moment he saw you his mind changed completely.

There you stood in front of him in a blouse and a skirt that hugged your curves right. Eyes were a staple detail in all of your outfits and it showed. You had rings on, few of which had red eyes. Your necklace, a gift from Vox, was his signature spiral eye. It doubled as an alarm for you in case you were in danger, not like you needed it considering you still had angelic powers, much stronger than any overlord but less than Lucifer and his daughter.

He had his arms out for a hug for you, a rare gesture from him. You gave him a tight hug and you swear you felt his circuits warm up again. He was smiling brightly at you, honored to have you in his presence and his life.

"Sorry. Had to deal with a couple sinners. You know someone tried fucking one of Val's employees on the street? For free?" Val almost flipped the table, "It's okay! It's okay. He's locked up in your room."

Val chuckles evilly, "Thank you."

Vox pulls your chair out for you before sitting himself down. The four of you talk business and you took notice of how much Vox kept staring at you. You got a little flustered, constantly fiddling with your hair.

You and Vox kept notice of each other but both of you remained unaware of the looks you received from Valentino and Velvette. They just needed some popcorn and they'd be set. Velvette made up an excuse to walk out to give you both space, dragging Valentino behind her. She placed a hand on Vox's shoulder and whispered, "$500 if you don't do this shit, tonight." She plastered a smile before leaving, "Kisses, darlings! So sorry we couldn't stay."

It was now just the two of you. Vox's heart was pounding loudly and his face was slowly getting brighter. You were pitching him an idea for the next release in VoxTek but you stopped when you saw his screen quite literally not there anymore.

"Vox? You've been glitching a lot lately and I'm getting worried..." You scoot your chair closer to him, "Do you need any parts? I can put them in for you or reboot your system." You put you hand on the side of his screen which jolted him back.

"No! I'm fine. I just," He clears his throat, still glitching out with sparks flying everywhere. "I have a lot on my mind."

"You can talk to me, I'm here to listen." You hold his hand for comfort but this just further heated him up. You feel him clutch your hands for once.

He takes a deep breath in before looking at you, "I have a confession to make. To you." You looked at him worried that he's having business problems, or something. "I like you." Vox felt like a weight has been lifted off of him but now he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear that you'd reject him.

"Oh, Vox..." You spoke softly, holding his hand closer to you, "I like you too. Is that why you've been glitching lately?" You had an empathetic look on your face.

"You do?" He was in shock. His demeanor was new to you, he was vulnerable.

"Vox. You took me in and kept my secret with basically nothing in return and I am eternally grateful." You smile sweetly at him, "Vox. You didn't need to keep such a thing from me for so long to the point where you glitch and short-circuit. I was so worried."

He let out a sigh of relief, "Oh thank fuck." He felt as if he hadn't been breathing this whole time. He gave you a kiss on the back of your hand, "I will give you everything you ever ask for. I will protect you no matter what. You're such a...a breath of fresh air. I thought you had some angelic power hold on me."

You laugh at his statement, "Angelic power hold, Vox? Really?" You were giggling uncontrollably at this point.

"Shut up!" He said in embarrassment, "Anyways! Y/N, will you be with me for the rest of eternity?"

You gave him a kiss on his screen, "Gladly, Vox."

While you two were cuddling it up in the restaurant while talking about business endeavors, Vox got a text on his phone from Velvette. She had sent him $500 with a text saying 'Treat her right or I'm putting her in my show.' after it.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi,

I just stumbled upon your blog and I am already obsessed with your stories.🥰 Your writing style and the way you describe the characters is simply amazing.

Anyways, I‘ve got an idea for a one-shot, could you please write one, where the reader is Dr.Lecters patient and they bump into a very distraught Will after his session and start talking to him. Hannibal get‘s jealous, because he thinks Will is interested in the reader,after the conversation ended, tension is really high during her sessions and it get‘s steamy in the end.(nsfw?)

Hannibal x Reader: What's mine is mine

Warning: smut, oral ( f receiving), no use of y/n, penetration ( p in v), possessive behavior, jealous Hannibal, anger, not proofread, gn reader, female anatomy.

Word count: 1,2 K

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“I've told you a thousand times that that door is for exiting clients only and you continue to use it.”

“Oh come on Hannibal you know how i hate using the other door. That empty waiting room always puts me on edge.”

“And talking with another patient is prohibited, you know that.”

You spin on your heels, angrily looking at your therapist.

“For the love of god hannibal! Did you see what he looked like? He was shaking so much I thought he was having some sort of seizure!”

You’d stumbled onto a very distressed will on your way into your appointment and simply couldn’t feel like you needed to help him.

“I'm surprised you let him leave at all. That man was a complete wreck.”

“It is my job to know what my clients need.”

“Clearly you're not doing it very well.”

You could tell you’d hit a nerve because instead of debating you Hannibal simply closed the door and stomped over to his chair. You shook your head. You didn’t understand why Hannibal was so worked up about you talking to Will. It’s not like you’d done anything wrong.

And the truth was you hadn't done anything wrong. If anything you’d shown you were an empathetic person. You weren’t the issue. Will was. Or more accurately, Hannibal's jealousy of Will was. Seeing you talk to Will had sent Hannibal into a sort of spiral. In his mind you belong to him but in reality you don't.

“Okay what the hell is up with you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh so is your face just stuck like that now? You gonna give me the stink eye for the rest of the session? I mean come on! You’re acting like you caught me kissing him.”

Hannibal's body tensed at your words. He forced himself to open his mouth.

“Did you want to?”

“What?”

“Did you want to kiss him?”

“Oh for fucks sake what does that have to-”

“Answer the question.”

Hannibal had risen from his seat. He walked over to you boxing you against him and the wall behind you. You looked up at him staring into his eyes. Hannibal was so close to you that you could smell his perfume. You took a shaky breath in.

“No.”

“What?”

“No, I didn't want to kiss him. I’m not interested in him.”

No in him but in someone. That's what your words sounded like to Hannibal. He desperately needed to find out who you were interested in. Even if it meant having to get them out of his way. 

“Who then?”

“You’re kidding right?”

Hannibal continued to stare at you as he awaited you to answer his question. You shook your head at him.

“You’re such an idiot.”

You pushed forward, hitting Hannibal's shoulder with yours as you moved away from him. Hannibal grabbed your wrist, stopping you from getting too far.

“Who?”

You tugged your arm out of his grip, turning to face him. You looked pissed, it caught Hannibal off guard.

“You! It’s you, you ass!” 

Hannibal stared at you. You’d never yelled at him before. He felt rooted to his spot. He barely noticed you moving forward before you were tugging his tie. You gave him a bruising kiss. He moved to wind his hand around your waist but before he could you pushed off him.

“There. Satisfied?”

No. He would never be satisfied. He could still taste you on his tongue. And the taste was addicting. He surged forward grabbing your head with his hand. He shoved his mouth against yours, kissing you roughly. You let him, your hands moving to grip his suit jacket. The two of you stumbled across the room, hands wildly pulling at each other's clothes. Somewhere in the middle of the process you’d managed to unbutton Hannibal's shirt and he’d managed to remove your pants. Your body fell onto the loveseat, hand moving to tug Hannibal on top of you. He kissed at your skin, his hand moving to shove your shirt up. You gasped as his hands cupped your breast, kneading them in his hand. 

“Oh Hannibal!”

God he loved the way you sounded, gasping his name. He placed a kiss to the valley of your breasts before insching himself lower. He placed small kisses all over your stomach. You watched him with glazed eyes, observing him until he was on his knees before you. He tugs your underwear off your body, moving to place it in his back pocket. You raise your eyebrows to him and all he does is shrug. You squeal as Hannibal tugs you closer to him. He leaned his head down until he’s inches from your pussy. You bite your lip in anticipation. As soon as Hannibal's tongue makes its way to your fold you can’t help but throw your head back. Hannibal grips onto your thighs as you squirm against the loveseat. 

“Oh fuck. There! Hannibal there- shit!”

Hannibal grinned against your pussy, reveling in the way your hand grabs onto his hair in desperation. His fingers moved inside you, helping his tongue in his task to make you cum. You could feel yourself clenching around Hannibal's fingers, silently telling him you were close. If that wasn’t enough the high pitched moans you kept letting out should have been a sign. Hannibal sucked at your clit and you were a goner. Your hand gripped onto the love seat as you came. Hannibal watched you breath for a moment before beginning to climb over you. You tugged him down for a kiss, tugging at his hair. He bit your lip in return. 

Hannibal's dick nudged against your thigh, his pre cum mixing with your own juices. You smiled up at him, wrapping your legs around him. Hannibal took the hint, moving to align his dick with your entrance. He glanced at you for a moment, awaiting your approval. You gave him a small nod. He moved slowly into you. Once he’d bottomed out Hannibal stopped moving, giving you time to adjust. You opened your mouth in a silent moan, brows furrowing as you felt Hannibal twitch inside you. He desperately wanted to move but he would wait for you okay.

“Jesus Hannibal, what are you waiting for? Move!”

Well that was one way to put it. 

Hannibal began to thrust into you, his movements growing more rapid as your pleasure increased. He placed one of his feet on the ground, attempting to give himself more strength. You drew a breath in as he rocked into you rapidly. Hannibal leaned down tugging one of your breasts into his mouth. He sucked at your nipple, making sure to leave a mark. From the way you clenched around him he could tell you enjoyed it so he continued his ministrations. 

“Are you almost there?”

“Uhum please don’t stop-fuck-please i’m…”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, fingers digging into Hannibal's shoulder as you came. Hannibal felt you sag beneath him, taking it as his chance to guide your movements. His hands found your hips gripping them tightly as his thrusts began to flatter. Pretty soon Hannibal seed spilled into your walls. He laid down beside you, pulling your body closer into his.

“Remind me to make you angry more often.”

“Careful dear. That's a dangerous game.”

“Maybe that's how I like it.”

[donelywell]

October 5 2023

I changed things up because it's got Frontiers Final Horizons Spoilers. I know the updates been out for like 2 months now but I'm being really cautious.

Super Sonic was really fun to play in the base game, having the auto combo thing on and just seeing so much bombastic energy and over the top moves being thrown at giant titans was so much fun.

I did however, not read the instructions where they tell you to hold the parry, I thought it was a perfect timing thing like a normal parry. So fighting Giganto and Wyvern for the first time was a nightmare for me until I actually read the instructions. =v='

For the design, I didn't change much, Super Sonic is really cool. I basically just changed the green parts of his shoes to red to reflect his new eye color.

Super Sonic² was so cool! The casual backhand slap, the sass, the move where he basically does the idw move, the finger point when he gets back in the game!

The only issue I had is that I didn't understand at all how to fight the final boss. I didn't 100% complete the map so I didn't get the hints. (I am still stuck on the stupid ball hoop map puzzle thing, I swear there is no way to do it) So unfortunately, I had to look up a guide. That kinda dampened the experience, but there was no way I was fighting Supreme over again, getting to the same glitch because I killed him too fast, and then fail the final boss fight again because I didn't know I was supposed to press r2.

I made his quills seem like they are turning into flames at the tips, I made his torso kinda have a sun symbol on it, I made his secondary fur white and his base fur/ quills bright yellow to kinda give it more sun imagery. His arm patterns are a little more detailed, his gloves have kinda formed into the body, making the cuffs look like they're on fire too. His socks turned into bandages and blue rings floating on him with the soles of his shoes kinda smoking on the back. It was a lot of fun interpreting this design differently, giving it a more ancient vibe with a modern twist. The original design is still really cool too!

Cyber Super Sonic... one of the coolest forms in my opinion and yet we see him for less than a minute in only a cutscene. I'm not complaining, the cutscene was so cool! Me and my sibling were star struck when we saw it!

I love the Fleetway elements! The sharp teeth, the crazy eyes, the chaotic behavior that almost made it seem like if Cyber Super Sonic wasn't being literally shot out to his enemy, he'd not be able to tell between friend or foe! God, it was so cool!! Even if it was just limited to a cutscene where you can barely see the entire design in a single image!

I did actually have a static version of this image too, but I'm not including it because it gave me eye strain, and I don't want to hurt you.

For the form I actually decreased the amount of polygons on Sonic. If you look, he's more angular & simplistic and his legs and arms are rectangles! I thought it'd help give him more of a Cyber Computer vibe. I used the blue static and made it kinda an accent color so you can see where things are. I don't really know why, but I also made some parts of him detached? The inside parts have the white spirals that Cyber Super Sonic's eyes were.

The update was a lot of fun to play when it came out, even if it was EXTREMELY challenging for a casual player like myself. Almost made me quit a few times and a couple guides were begrudgingly looked up. Playing as Tails and Amy were definitely the highlights of the update for me though. I hope it was as much fun for you as it was for me. :)

[echobx]

It's... complicated?- Rafe Cameron × polyam!reader & JJ Maybank × polyam!reader

summary: you're in a relationship with Rafe, but a one night stand with JJ turns into more and suddenly you find yourself entangled in a relationship that you don't plan on getting out of any time soon

general warnings: cheating, angst, fluff, smut, swearing, lying, reader being a bitch, talk of marriage angst warnings: mention of death, downward spiral, self-doubt, fighting (verbally), fighting (physically), traumatized reader smut warnings: p in v (unprotected), oral (f & m receiving), 3 way, cnc, creampie/cumdump, spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, (heavy) pda, subdrop adjacent, aftercare, foreplay, toy use (not primarily), overstimulation

word count: 19k

author's note: this started as a Rafe fic but immediately my brain fucked me over and then I was too deep to change it so I kept it and decided to explore the throuple idea. I wanted to not have it be cheating plot but I couldn't figure out how to do that while keeping the set dynamic, so I hope you're gentle with me on that :) I genuinely hope you enjoy it, it's the longest one part one shot I've ever written lol (p.s. I wanted to do dvp here but I couldn't find an appropriate place for it, but if you want it, I can write it separately)

“Can you maybe not do lines on my boobs tonight? Last time you got some on my vintage Chanel dress and I haven't managed to get it out yet,” you ask Rafe while leaning in the door of his room, watching him get ready.  “I'll just buy you a new one,” he shrugs and buttons his shirt up. “That's not the point, babe, and you know it,” you shake your head, swaying your perfect curls. “It's also vintage, and you can't just buy a new one. Besides, I paid for it, not you.”  “You mean your dad paid for it?” he eyes you with a smirk playing on his pink lips.  “Nope, pretty sure that it counts for me now,” you smile, faking it as per usual when the topic of your dad comes up. “Dead people can't pay for shit.”  He steps over to you, tilting your chin up and kissing you. “Let's not talk about him. Instead, we can go and have fun, all right?” 

“Eugh, whose house is this?” you scoff as he stops the car in the driveway. The mansion isn't even half the size of your own, and it makes you feel a little disappointed.  “Hey, be nice,” Rafe smiles and takes your hand up to kiss it before getting out and opening your door for you.  “I am always nice,” you tell him, but he knows it's a lie. Your way of being nice is what other people would call bitchy or bossy. You aren't nice like people want you to be, not since your dad has died. He was the only one who you had tried your best for.  “You know I love to see your claws out, but I have to sell shit tonight, so none of that, please,” Rafe begged, his arm tight around your waist.  You roll your eyes and look up at him, “fine.” 

The party is already going, and a few people greet you while walking in. You find Topper and Kelce rather quickly, taking your seat next to Rafe you let your eyes wander as they talk.  “You know, you guys are boring as fuck,” you groan after having had to listen to them talk about golfing for twenty minutes straight.  “Since when are we here for your entertainment, y/n,” Kelce scoffs, but he gulps as you get up and lean over him.  “Maybe you should suck a dick to fix your fucking attitude,” you snarl and walk away towards the kitchen. You never cared what Rafe's friends thought of you, you never cared what anybody thought of you. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” you roll your eyes at the blonde boy, who's leaning against the counter. His ring clad fingers are holding onto the solo cup, but the flirtatious smile is just for you. You had gathered as much over time.  “One day, you'll beg, y/l/n,” he says and takes a sip.  “Not if I make you beg first, Maybank,” you smirk and take the bottle of tequila to fill two shot glasses.  “I never beg,” he counters, and you laugh.  “Oh, I'd bet my BMW you do.”  “Does Rafe?”  “I won't tell you that, you'd just go runnin’round tellin’ people,” you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and hold the shot out for him to take. “Be happy that I'm keeping him on a leash. He'd have ripped your head off by now if I didn't.”  You watch him take the shot, and follow. The slight burn in your throat wakes you up, and the warmth in your stomach is familiarly cozy.  “And why would he do that?” JJ asks, tilting his head to the side.  “‘Cause you won't stop staring at my tits, Maybank,” you bite your lip and take the step over to him, leaning in and whispering into his ear. “I know how you look at me, as if I'm the ultimate price. But you wouldn't even be able to handle me on your best days, pretty boy.”  “You underestimate me, princess,” he whispers, and you pull away to look at him fully.  “Maybe in another life, Maybank,” you wink at him, grabbing the bottle of tequila and making your way back to the couch. 

“What he want?” Rafe asks as soon as you get back and take your seat by his side.  “Nothing,” you sigh and kiss Rafe's cheek, leaving a lipstick mark behind. He doesn't need to know how much it riles you up when JJ flirts with you. How much you have to suppress the need to kiss him whenever you see him. It doesn't even make sense why it is like that.  JJ and you have nothing in common, and you are happy about that.  You love being in a relationship with Rafe. You don't care much about love anyway, so why would you need to love the person you are in a relationship with if they are perfect on paper? Rafe is everything your dad had wanted in a future son-in-law. He comes from good money, takes care of the people close to him, and knows how to act around money. You don't need to love him to build a good future with him. After all, your grandparents had done it the same way. And when you look at your own parents' life together, you keep wondering if it had really been the wisest decision to marry for love.  No, love was overrated, and so was whatever you felt when JJ looked at you. 

“You sell any yet?” you ask straight out, and Rafe clears his throat and gives you a look that doesn't really make sense to you. “What?”  “You know they won't buy shit when you're here, unless you act it,” he whispers to you and you roll your eyes.  “Fine, but only one,” you cave, and for the next few hours you play the dumb girlfriend. For some reason, all of his buyers are some type of misogynistic asshole, and the only one who you could talk to without feeling looked down on is Barry. But Barry never gets invited to the parties, because he doesn't fit in.  To you, he's not much different than the businessmen your dad had worked with, the same ones you would have to deal with once you were officially taking over the company. 

“Baby, c’mere,” Rafe claps on his thighs, and you turn to straddle him, giving him a single warning glance to not fuck up.  “Love when you use my tits for it, babe,” you giggle stupidly, but internally you feel like throwing up. And it just gets worse when he puts a little line of the fine powder on your skin and dips his head down to snort it off. Your eyes cross with JJ's as soon as Rafe's head is down, and he vanishes from your vision the moment Rafe comes back up, wiping his nose.  “Thank you, baby,” he smiles and kisses you. It's a show. When you moan into him and buck your hips; and for once you're not sure if the show is for his clients, or for the blonde Pogue who can't keep his eyes off of you.  “I wanna go upstairs,” you whisper to Rafe and he nods.  “Just gimme ten and I'll meet you there.” 

You get up and walk off, towards the stairs. A quick glance back to Rafe, who's focused on counting money, before you take the stairs, downstairs instead of up.  You decide to take a look around. The pool is a perfect 80 °F and if you had swimming stuff with you, you'd consider swimming for a while. Training a little to clear up your mind.  “Didn't you tell him you'd be upstairs, waiting?” You hear JJ behind you and turn around.  “And? I changed my mind. He doesn't care if he fucks me here or at home,” you shrug and JJ shakes his head.  “God, you really are something.”  “What do you want, Maybank?” you sneer, walking around the pool towards the sauna at the end of the room. The sound of your heels on the concrete floor echoes through the huge room.  “Why are you with him if you hate him so much?” he asks and starts walking closer, following you.  “I don't hate him. I hate his friends, anyone but Barry, basically. I hate how he acts around them. But I don't hate him,” you clarify, and JJ nods.  “But you don't love him.”  “Who needs love anyway,” you smile. The picture-perfect smile you had practiced in front of the mirror since you were 12, the same one you had to relearn when your dad had died. It was an ironclad mask.  “I forgot, you don't have a heart,” JJ smiles but drops it instantly.  “Tell me what you want, or leave,” you roll your eyes at him and he steps closer. Your heart starts racing as he leans over you, brushing a curl from your face and tucking it behind your ear.  “What do you want?” he rasps quietly and your eyes flutter, it's a reflex, and you don't know why. You don't understand why he has this effect on you.  “Nothing,” you press out, and his thumb ghosts your lips.  “I don't like when you lie to me, y/n,” JJ whispers, and you can't stop yourself from getting lost in his blue eyes. They are so different from Rafe's. JJ's eyes are bright and hopeful, they feel like happiness entrapped to you. And you can't stand it, because this isn't how it's supposed to be.  “Tell me what you want,” he demands, leaning down to smell your neck, his nose brushing against your skin and giving you goosebumps.  “It’s neither appropriate nor allowed,” you hush, and he chuckles.  "Since when do you care about any of that? You make the rules on this side of the island, don't you, princess?” 

You blame it on the tequila when your lips find his. You blame it on the daiquiri when he leads you into the cold supply closet, without pulling out of your kiss. You would blame it on the coke, when he pushes your dress up and sinks into you; but you hadn't had any coke that night. 

“Fuck, you're so wet for me, baby,” JJ groans, he had sat you down on a lower shelf, and you did your best to hold onto the metal structure that was pressing into your back.  “Shut up and kiss me, asshole,” you gasp, and he does just that. His kisses are wet and sloppy, just like his fast thrusts. But you can't stop kissing him, not only because it feels like heaven and hell combined. But mainly because you know you'd be screaming by the way his cock keeps kissing your cervix.  “You're so good at taking it, princess. Fuck, you feel so good,” JJ moans, and you can't help but feel pride in how much he seems to love it.  “Look at it,” you demand, and he dips his head, focusing on where you are connected. Your slip tucked to the side, but it's ruined anyway, it had been from the moment on he had started to flirt with you.  “What's that say,” JJ asks, his thumb rubbing over your tattoo, making you smirk.  “Eat me, Maybank. It says, eat me,” you moan, and he grins.  “Next time, princess,” he growls and starts rubbing your clit in harsh circles. You don't understand how he does it, but he has you moaning even louder, and clenching around his cock in the matter of minutes. The band in your stomach is ready to burst, and you don't think you've felt this good ever before. It feels like he's made for you, but you know that can't be the case.  “Cum for me, pretty girl. Soak my dick,” JJ breathes into your ear, and as soon as you come undone, he pulls his hand from your clit and shoves his fingers down your throat to shut you up.  You feel afloat and completely dazed when he pulls his fingers out and clasps his hand over your mouth. 

“Shh, quiet,” JJ whispers, and you hear footsteps outside the closet. If someone finds you, you're screwed.  “No, she's not down here either. Check upstairs again, man,” Rafe's annoyed voice carries through the door, and you stare at JJ. You're not scared of what might happen to you if Rafe found out, but more so that he'd finally snap and actually hurt JJ like he had threatened so many times before.  Rafe is still outside the door when JJ decides to start fucking you again, and your eyes roll back uncontrollably. He knows how badly you want to make a sound for him, but you can't let yourself.  As soon as his footsteps carry Rafe back upstairs, you let out a loud groan, pulling JJ into a kiss and purposely squeezing his dick just to prove to him that you're the one in charge. And when his hips stutter, and he spills out inside of you, you don't even mind it. You like the feeling, especially when he keeps fucking it into you, muttering incoherently about how good he fucked you. 

“Do you always praise yourself after?” you ask him after having pulled your dress back down.  “Do you always cheat on your boyfriend with Pogues?” he smirks, and you push him back against the shelf.  “If anyone finds out about this, you are dead, you understand? Either you shut up, and hope for a second time, or I can ruin your life. I don't need Rafe to do it for me, I can do it all by myself. Do you understand?” You poke into his chest and he nods.  “Good,” you take a step back again, and he grabs for your chin, pulling you close again.  “I have one question, princess. Has he ever fucked you raw?”  “I don't trust him enough for that,” you reply, and JJ snorts.  “Why'd you let me, then?”  “You don't sleep around as much as you pride yourself, Maybank. I mean, you're not bad, but- Well, it all comes down to the circles you run in and the ones you don't,” you give him a mean smile and open the door to go look for a bathroom. 

“How do you plan on not letting him find out if he never-”  “I told you, he does what I say. If I say no, he's not getting any,” you tell him and turn a corner towards the bathroom.  “You really got him wrapped around your finger,” JJ laughs.  “You too,” you grin before sitting down to pee, you don't care that he is standing right next to you.  “Didn't you literally call Cally R. disgusting for insinuating that she doesn't mind peeing in her boyfriend's presence?” JJ laughs.  “First of all,” you say while finishing up and standing. “Cally R. is a lying slut, the only reason why she keeps having to piss in front of her boyfriend is because she can't get rid of her std. And why doesn't it go away? Well, because little miss piss queen keeps on fucking Tyler Folly on the side. Calling her disgusting was the kindest thing I could do to her.”  “And the second reason?” JJ cocks his brow up.  “You're not my boyfriend, Maybank. And getting rid of your shit inside me, is kinda necessary unless you want me ending up like Cally,” you give him a threatening smile, and he holds his hands up in defense. “Good.”  “I'm just wondering if it's not hypocritical, with the whole fucking on the side and all,” he mumbles before wetting a towel and trying to remove the red lipstick marks from his face.  “I don't claim to love my boyfriend, and Rafe never claimed to love me. He thinks we have an open relationship on his side. I don't see why it can't be open on both,” you shrug and pull the lipstick from your bra to reapply it.  “Was I- was I better?” JJ mumbles, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck.  “Could you choose between your two favorite types of food?” you ask, and he starts to grin.  “You know, that's a weird metaphor.”  “Simile,” you correct him, and he exhales a laugh.  “You're a real smartass, y/l/n.”  “And you can be glad you're pretty.”  “Pretty enough to fuck your brains out,” JJ turns you towards him and leans over, his lips ghosting yours and when he pulls back you exhale a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. “See,” he smirks.  “If you want to do it again you can't fuck around, and most importantly you won't tell a soul. But then again, who would even believe you,” you scoff and turn around to leave, taking the stairs and vanishing in the crowd before anyone had noticed where you had come from. 

“Where were you? I was looking all over,” Rafe sounds concerned and hugs you, out of courtesy, surely. Rafe rarely hugs you unless you ask for it, or the social obligations call for it.  “Just here and there, I went upstairs and forgot why. I'm sorry, babe,” you tell him, and he lets it go.  “Hey, y/n, wanna play a game with us?” Topper asks, and you turn to look at the group of people gathered, your eyes get stuck on JJ for just a second before they snap back to Top.  “Sure,” you smile and push Rafe into a chair, sitting down sideways on his lap. 

It's a dumb drinking game, just like always. It stays rather boring until Topper's new girlfriend gets to speak, and you instantly regret your choice to take part.  “Never have I ever had sex with someone in this room,” she giggles and falls back down into Top before they each take a sip of their drinks.  You take a sip, focusing on Rafe, but Rafe is staring right across from where the two of you are sitting.  “Why does Maybank keep staring at you,” he whispers in your ear and you shrug.  “He's a creep, you know that, babe,” you try to calm your boyfriend down, but you know it's not gonna help much. 

“Never have I ever cheated,” JJ says and takes a drink, but the chatter went mute as soon as the words left him. “I thought we were being honest, guys. God, you guys really are some Kooks,” he laughs and stands up to leave. His eyes are yet again fixed on you, but this time you can't force yourself to look away.  “Maybe cheating is just a Pogue quality,” you say, and a few silent mumbles seem to agree with your lie.  “You must know all about that, princess,” JJ smirks and tips his non-existent cap to you before turning and walking away, out of the house and into the darkness.  “He’s so weird,” Topper's girlfriend lets out a disgusted grunt.  “Was he even invited?” Topper asks and I roll my eyes.  “They don't check invitations at the entrance, stupid,” you laugh it off. “He probably stole something,” someone out of the crowd suggested, and you stood up in a light fit of anger, before you realized that you couldn't act on it.  “What would he steal here? Cheap candles from Target?” you scoff and walk off. “Rafe!” you call out, and he takes a moment before he meets you outside by the car. 

“I didn't wanna go home yet,” he complains.  “And? You have to drive me home. After that, you can do whatever the fuck you want,” you scoff at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.  “What's up with you?” he snorts, opening the door for you and letting you get in.  “I'm tired and annoyed by these people who think they're better than anyone else, just because their dad's play golf and fuck their secretaries,” you mutter, and he stops asking, dropping you off at your house and driving off as soon as you are inside. 

Weeks go by in which you don't even see a glimpse of JJ. You manage to push the memory so far back into your brain that you don't even dream of it, well, not as often.  And when Rafe fucks you, it's good, it's great, but you don't feel as complete after as you had with JJ. 

“Best pussy in the fucking world,” Rafe groans as he pounds into you from behind. Your face is pressed into the duvet and your ass is high up in the air. He had been stretching you out for what felt like hours. It was good, he hit every single spot inside of you perfectly, but you couldn't get yourself to cum.  “Would be so much better without it, baby,” Rafe rasps, and you're not really listening, just nodding and groaning in response to whatever he's saying.  Before you can actually register what is happening, he has pulled out and slammed into you again, but it feels different. You can feel him more clearly, every single vein on his thick cock, the soft tip that kept nudging your cervix as he went deeper.  “Fuck, I love you, I love this pussy so much,” Rafe moans and without a single warning he cums inside you, filling you up and clouding your mind. You gasp, close to an orgasm but not yet there and if he'd just- but he pulls out and you all you can feel is used.  “Shit, did you not,” he pulls you into him, having fallen into the sheets by your side, but you put on a smile.  “It's okay. Next time,” you tell him and get up to clean yourself up. You curse yourself for losing yourself in your thoughts about JJ instead of paying attention to what your boyfriend had said to you. And now you had two guys thinking they could fuck you over anyway they wanted.

“Are you okay?” Rafe asks as you leave the bathroom wrapped in your robe.  “Yeah, just next time, maybe warn me beforehand. Probably would've been better if we had both finished,” you say and roll your eyes while your back is turned to him.  “Why are you getting dressed?”  “I have to buy q tips, we don't have any left,” you lie and he scoffs.  “You could just ask the help to go buy some, and I could make it up to you. Come on, baby,” he slaps the empty bed to his left, but you shake your head.  “I just need some air, all right.”  “Fine. But text me so I know you're okay,” he sighs and gets up to take a shower. 

You basically run out of the house, jumping in your car and driving off towards the Cut before you realize you don't even know where to go.  You pull out your phone and scroll down a long list of contacts before you find his number, saved under three Xs to remind you to never text him, but here you are, doing just that.  “Where are you?” you type out and hit send, a second later a text appears on your screen.  “why?”  “Tattoo” is all you say, but the three small dots stay for a while and then they vanish. You are about to curse him out when a text pops up.  “you know the Château?” “Routledge?” “yes” You put your phone away and start driving again. Maybe you'd have to thank Topper's weird obsession with Sarah for knowing where the house was, but you really couldn't. 

As soon as you arrive, you kill the engine and jump out of your jeep, stomping towards the porch.  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Kiara sneers at you, but you don't pay her any attention. You grab JJ's hand and drag him into the house.  “That's the wrong way,” he chuckles and holds you back from going deeper into the house, pulling you to the side and into a small bedroom.  “Tell me what's wrong,” he asks, wanting to hold onto you, but you brush him off.  “He said he loved me,” you yell at JJ even though it's not his fault, nor can he do anything about it.  “And that's bad?” he raises his eyebrows at you and you huff.  “Yes. Yes, it is. You don't fuck someone, not let them fucking finish and then tell them you love them,” you hiss quietly, not wanting his friends to be able to hear it all.  “I see. I can help with one of those,” JJ smirks and pulls you into a kiss. A kiss that makes you forget why you even came over. Like a snip of his finger, he had erased all the bad thoughts and feelings inside of you, replacing them with warmth and desire.  “They didn't believe me,” he whispers against your lips before bringing them into another kiss. You pull on his shirt, and he takes it off.  “Told you they wouldn't,” you smile and take your own shirt off before starting to fumble with his shorts.  “Now they have to,” JJ chuckles and pushes his pants down, leaving the boxers on. 

He pushes you onto the bed, kissing you all over, especially focusing on your tits, and you nearly cum just from that. His skilled tongue toys with your nipple while his hand squeezes the other tit mercilessly.  “You have the best tits, baby,” JJ moans against your skin, squeezing them another time before trailing his lips down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach to the hem of your jeans shorts.  “Are you sure?” he asks while looking up at you, but the way he's lying between your legs is godly. His unruly hair is hanging into his face, his lips slightly parted in a mischievous smile.  “I'll go ask one of the others if you don't want to,” you tease him, and he nips at your hips. “Don't ever suggest that shit again, princess.”  “Noted, but only if your tongue’s as good as your dick,” you smirk.  JJ takes his time taking off your shorts, teasing you and edging you on, and you want to drown in the feelings he can so easily conjure in you.  “You smell different,” he notes and presses his nose against your slip. “I'm not gonna do this when you smell like him.”  “I told you,” you sit up on your elbows and look at his disgusted face.  “You didn't say he fucked you raw. That's different, and you know it,” JJ complained and sat back up.  “I don't see the problem. It's an easy fix,” you shrug and pull him closer by his neck. Your lips press against his until you have him lying underneath you. 

“See, easy,” you grin down at him, pulling his boxers down just enough to let his hard cock spring free.  “Aren't you pretty,” you whisper to his pink tip, placing a kiss on it and tasting his salty precum.  “If you do that again, I'm busting a nut. You gotta warn a guy,” he laughs nervously.  “Cute,” you giggle and lift yourself up, pulling your slip to the side and brushing his throbbing tip through your aching slit. You let out a sigh of relief as you sink down on him, the familiarity makes you feel better instantly.  Fucking JJ is easy, it's messy, it's freeing.  You don't mind that he can't keep himself from cumming when you do, because he's ready instantly as if it never had happened.  You claw at his chest while you bounce on him, screaming of pleasure and not caring who can hear you.  Your pussy sounds obscenely wet, and can feel the mix of your many releases spill out of you and onto him. But JJ doesn't care as long as you keep fucking yourself with his dick, he doesn't even mind having to take over when you get a cramp in your leg.  He's moaning and cursing worse than you, calling you all kinds of dirty things, but mostly he's showering you with compliments, which turns you on even more than you had ever thought.  And when he finally pulls out, your pussy is still clenching, pushing out all of his and your cum. 

“Would you look at that, princess. We should definitely not clean you up and send you back home just like that, show him who's actually better at fucking this pretty pussy.” JJ says and takes two fingers to push his cum back into you.  “J, please,” you beg him to stop. You are overstimulated and sore, so sore you feel like you might not be able to walk properly the next few days.  “Oh, but we haven't even done what you promised me, princess. You wouldn't let a poor guy starve, would you?” JJ gives you a pout and moves back to kiss your swollen cunt. A jolt goes through your body as he does it another time.  “You taste so sweet, baby,” he moans into you, his hands massaging your thighs; tongue dipping into your hole and nose brushing against your clit.  You moan and mewl as he slowly kisses and licks you to your orgasm, you can't even remember how many you've had that day, but what you do know is that the last one was the best one. 

“Where'd you learn to use your tongue like that?” you ask him out of breath as he's lying next to you.  “Natural talent, y/l/n,” JJ boasts and turns his head to kiss you, twisting his tongue with yours and then pulling you closer. His hand is harshly gripping your thigh, pulling your leg over his own; while your own hands are entangled in his hair. There's a sense of security in the way he kisses you, like you know he won't leave even if you'd tell him to.  “JJ-” you try to pull away, but his lips keep on chasing yours, even when you try to get his attention by biting him. So, you pull on his hair, holding his head in place and making him whine with it.  “S’unfair,” he murmurs.  “I have to go home, it's late,” you remind him.  “You could stay, I could show you how much better I am at morning sex,” JJ tries to convince you, but you know it's impossible.  You let go of his head and twirl a strand of his hair in between your fingers. “It's a charming proposal, but you know I can't. He'll come looking for me, and we don't want that to happen, do we?”  “I’ll let you go if you answer me one question.”  You roll your eyes at his antics, but agree to it anyway. “Deal, dumbass,” you smile. “Why’d you text me?” JJ whispers, and you sigh, turning around to look at the ceiling.  “I don't know,” you lie.  “I think you do, you're just lying to yourself if you say anything else. Because I wouldn't have told you to come by if I didn't feel the same,” he admits and nuzzles his face into your neck.  “It's a polar opposite. And I never thought- It's difficult to know you want a specific thing when you never had it, and once it’s there, it's hard to forget about it. And he won't give me that, I know it,” you explain quietly and JJ kisses your neck in response.  “I would never even consider not letting you cum, baby,” he hushes against your skin, and it gives you goosebumps all over. It's cozy and loving in a way, and it might just scare the life out of you when you realize that you crave this affection he's giving you.  “I have to go,” you press out and jump up, leaving JJ groaning as he runs his hands over his face. You find your clothes pretty quickly and put them back on, while he stays in bed, lying there looking like a Greek god.  “You look severely fuck out. I like it,” he grins, his head propped up on his hand. “Walk of shame material?”  “Nah, nothing to be ashamed of.”  “You know that's not what I meant,” you sigh and leave the room to go look for the bathroom.  “Left,” JJ calls out, and you turn left, towards the end of the hallway and enter the small bathroom. You don't understand how they can live in such a narrow space, but you know mentioning it will not end well. 

Your curls are standing up in every possible direction and your eyes look extremely tired.  “See, not bad at all,” JJ smirks, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom.  “Do you have a hair tie or something?” you ask, and he steps behind you and pulls a drawer open. You pick out a simple black hair tie that could easily pass as one of your own, and wind your hair into a loose knot.  “Tell me again why I should let you go back to that asshole?” JJ asks, laying his chin on your shoulder.  “One, because he's not an asshole, and two, because he's gonna kill you. I don't want to see you dead, you're really good at what you do,” you say while looking at him through the mirror, and the smile on his face gets deeper as you speak.  “The secret side piece,” JJ flashes his brows at you, and you can't stop the light chuckle that leaves you. Charming and sweet and all you should ever want and need- “I really have to go now,” you remind yourself, and he lets go of you. 

When you walk out onto the porch, your eyes meet Sarah's and your heart stops, but you can't let yourself get caught up in it. You know, she hasn't spoken to Rafe in a whole year. She surely won't break that silence just to tell on you.  Your feet quickly move you towards your car, but before you can open your door, you are harshly turned around and pushed against the metal.  JJ kisses you so hard, you wish you could go back inside and do it all over again. His hand is holding onto your neck while the other is gripping your waist. It feels like the best kiss in your entire life, and it awakes something inside of you that you had long thought dead. The tiny flutter in your stomach is as faint as a gust of wind in spring, but you know it's there, and you know it'll just complicate everything else with it. When he pulls away, he does it slowly, leaving an abundance of small, soft kisses on your lips before running his thumb over them.  “She won't tell. None of them will, I promise,” he whispers and you nod, believing him.  “You should go. Didn't know kissing alone could turn a guy on like that.” You smirk innocently as your hand traces over his erection, and he can't even hide it because he hadn't thought about putting on anything more than underwear.  “That's all you,” JJ whispers and kisses you one last time. “Text me,” he says before stepping back and letting you get into your car.  As you drive off, you can see him flipping off his friends before going inside; and then the house, and all of them with it, vanish as you make your way back home. 

“Where were you?” Rafe bludgeons as soon as you get through the door.  “Out. You don't need to know everything, you know?” you snap at him.  “You didn't text and were gone for hours, y/n.”  “Shit, you sound more like my parents then my parents ever did,” you laugh and make your way into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and downing it in one go.  “Excuse me for giving a fuck,” Rafe barks, and you roll your eyes.  “If you hadn't been selfish, like fucking always, I wouldn't have walked out.”  “I wanted to make it up to you. You left!” he counters and you gulp hard.  “Tell me what you would've done. Something that puts me first for a change or no?” Your blood is boiling and there is nothing that can stop your fit of rage. It had been easier to look past Rafe's selfish tendencies when you hadn't known any better, but now that you do, you can't help but get annoyed at him for it.  “Where's this coming from now?” he laughs, pacing along the room.  “God, why can't you fucking open your eyes! You know, sometimes I fake it just so it's over quicker,” you spit out, but he knows it's a lie, it's the one thing you promised each other to never lie about.  “You never tell me what you want either,” Rafe says, and you hate that it's true.  “Would you do it if I did?”  “I can try,” he raises his shoulders in what feels like defeat to you, but you can't be sure.  “Good,” you glare, but you know it's unnecessary.  “Now?” he asks, somewhat hopeful, but you shake your head.  “Maybe tomorrow, or whenever. I'm tired right now,” you sigh and make your way upstairs to take a bath. 

The hot water is soaking your body, and you close your eyes and let it play out again. How JJ kept kissing you as he fucked you senseless, how his praises worked way better for you than Rafe's degradations. How he had kept looking up at you with his head buried between your legs.  Your hand travels down between your legs, rubbing soft circles on your clit, and it's not enough. Your fingers plunge into your pussy, curling perfectly, but it's not enough. You can't reach, and it frustrates you.  You step out of the tub, dripping wet as you make your way into the bedroom and Rafe doesn't complain when you straddle him. And he complains even less you start to fuck yourself with his dick. It's not something you’ve ever done with him, but he wants to be better for you, and he doesn't mind as long as he gets to fuck you one way or the other.  “Tell me how much you want me,” you moan softly while bouncing on his huge cock. The light stinging feeling his size always causes you just adds to your pleasure.  “You're so fucking hot, fucking me like the slut you are,” Rafe rasps, holding onto your hips.  “No, something nice. Tell me something nice.” You shake your head but keep going anyway.  “Uhm, okay… You're fucking me so well, baby,” Rafe says, but his eyebrows are furrowed until you moan louder.  “Yes, more.”  “I love your tight pussy, baby,” he groans, and you fall down on top of him, kissing him, but it doesn't feel at all like you had hoped. He tastes like whiskey, but you craved the mix of weed and beer. Yet all of your thoughts about it fly out the window when he stops your hips and starts pounding into you from below.  “Faster,” you gasp into him, biting his lip and digging your nails into his shoulders. It's mind-bending, they way he fucks you and his uncontrollable noises turn you on even more. Rafe grunts and moans like you've not heard it before, and you wish you had made him try it earlier. 

“Fuck, baby, tell me you're close,” Rafe moans, and you press your face against his shoulder, feeling the band inside you tighten.  “So close, babe, don't stop,” you cry out and snake a hand down to your clit rubbing harshly and suddenly JJ's words echo in your mind.  “Cum for me, y/n. Be a good girl and let go.” You scream when your orgasm rips through you and Rafe follows just a second later, pushing in deeper and painting your walls in his pretty white.  “Keep going, just a bit,” you instruct him, and he fucks his cum into you with a few more thrusts until you tell him to stop again.  “That was probably the best sex we ever had,” you sigh, still not ready to get up and have him leave you.  “Definitely top ten,” Rafe pants and runs his hand over your back.  “No, definitely the best,” you argue with a smile and he caves.  “All right, the best.” 

After having cleaned up you're back in bed, and cuddled into his side, your head resting on his chest.  “Why didn't you tell me all that earlier? We could've done this already,” he whispers, and you don't know how to come up with a good lie.  “I don't know. Maybe I hoped you'd figure it out on your own one day.”  “It's very different from what we usually do,” Rafe mumbles, brushing over your hair.  “I like how you fuck me, but sometimes I need something for me. I need control too,” you whisper and he kisses your head.  “We can do that.”  “Good.”  “I love you,” Rafe sighs, and you can hear his breath slow as he falls asleep. 

Your dreams are haunted by JJ, always, and you wish you could turn it off. Sometimes Rafe gets to him, other times you see yourself living the Pogue life, as if that was ever something you'd even do as much as consider. But tonight it's different from any other time. 

You are at home, Rafe is sitting at the kitchen island, and JJ is lying on the couch. They are both aware of each other and not actively trying to murder one another. The whole scene makes you incredibly suspicious, but it just gets worse when two blonde children come running in.  “Dad!” one of them yells and both JJ and Rafe pick up their heads.  “What's up?” Rafe asks and gets up from his seat, giving you a loving smile before leaning down to the child and talking to it.  “Well, your friends are pretty fucking stupid for not getting it,” Rafe tells the child and JJ snorts.  “Yeah, what's not to get? My wife has another guy, and we play daddy roulette every single time.”  “Daddy roulette?” you ask and furrow your brows at the two.  “You said it's better to not know. Removes the thing for fighting or whatever,” JJ explains.  “This one, definitely mine,” Rafe points at your stomach, and you look down at yourself to see yourself severely pregnant. Your belly is bigger than you'd ever imagined and it feels even worse.  “Why is it so big?” Your heart starts racing, and you feel like you're about to fall over.  “That's because we're having twins. You got a Maybank and a Cameron in there, baby, just like you love it,” JJ grins and your vision goes blurry. 

“Y/n, will you please stop screaming? I was trying to sleep!” Rafe groans after shaking you awake.  “Sorry,” you mumble and turn away from him.  “Bad dream or what?” he asks.  “You don't have to pretend to care,” you whisper, and he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.  “I do care, but I also really need to sleep, baby,” he mumbles and kisses your neck a single time.  “We should just sleep,” you mutter and this time you are allowed to get your few hours of dreamless sleep instead of being haunted by your mistakes. 

Weeks turn into months, and one hookup every other week turns to some every other day.  The more Rafe tries to focus more on you, the more you seem to crave JJ and the lightness of what you have with him.  Like the quick fucks in the Country Club restroom, or the “business meetings” you tell Rafe about. After all, you really don't have a choice, because where Rafe is still reluctant to go down on you, JJ is offering it every single time, even when you are really not capable of cumming another time.  You know it would be technically easy to break up with Rafe, but you can't. You promised your dead father to marry a good man, someone from a good family. And Rafe is exactly what your dad had in mind.  And even if that wasn't the case, you still couldn't, or just don't want to, really.  You like that every girl on the island seems to want what you have, especially with both boys on your leash. You like that people are scared of you, because they know Rafe does what you tell him to, and not because he’s scared, no because he knows it's the best way to live his life. What most people don't know is that although still rich, the Camerons had suffered a dent in their savings, and not a small one. But you, you are secured by a long line of rich assholes. Old money. More than you could ever spend in a lifetime. Which just means that Rafe doesn't have the faintest idea why he should ever leave you. You are his perfect package deal. 

“boat day?” The text from JJ rips you out of your thoughts, and you praise the fact that Rafe has the day packed with meetings.  “sure” you reply quickly and get back to doing your hair.  “I should come pick you up”  “no, you really shouldn't.” You shake your head at his dangerously stupid idea. The boat thing is after all already risky, you don't need to up the chances of anyone finding out. “Will be there in 30.”

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Kiara scoffs as soon as you get out of your car.  “I invited her,” JJ shrugs as if it's nothing special and keeps walking towards the pier.  “You shouldn't get to invite anyone, especially not the Kook bitch who keeps fucking you on the side to get back at her even worse Kook boyfriend,” Kiara complains. “I'm not getting back at anyone,” you smile at her, knowing how much it must enrage her that you keep your cool and calm exterior.  “Just, please be nice, Kie,” JJ yells from afar and you hide your grin.  “John B!” Kiara hollers and walks back into the house, while you keep standing there, leaning against your car. As soon as JJ comes back they all gather on the porch, discussing the matter of your attendance. 

“You know I can hear you, right?” you say loudly after Kiara had called you a slut the third time in a row. “Then why are you still here?” she snaps at you.  You stroll towards the steps that lead up the porch and walk to where they are standing. It's not that you are particularly happy that they are all there too, but you at least have the decency to be nice to them, if not for anything but JJ’s sake.  “I'm interested in what your issue is here,” you ask and Sarah scoffs.  “Maybe that you're a horrible person. Using JJ? Cheating on my brother?”  “Oh, a horse can only be that high,” you smile at her.  JJ tugs on your hand and makes you look at him. “You said you'd be nice.”  “I am nice. I'm not the one calling people slut and whore and what else y'all can come up with for me. But I'm not gonna stand here and hear these insults if they can't even take one back. And for the record that wasn't an insult, it was the truth and y'all know it,” you say and John B runs his hands through his hair, visibly on edge.  “Are you kidding me? You literally insult us all the fucking time,” Kiara spits at you, and you can't help the tiny laugh that escapes you.  “I don't insult Pogues, you guys have it hard enough as is, but… you're not a Pogue, Carrera. I guess that means you're fair game, because that one,” you point at Sarah, “is basically family, as much as I hate to say it, and you don't go against your own.”  “You’re not my family. You'll never be,” Sarah shakes her head.  “Okay,” you roll your eyes at her.  “Can we just-” JJ tries to get control of the conversation, but Kiara stops him.  “No, we can't. If she's here, I'm leaving.”  “Y'all are the worst fucking friends in the world,” you laugh and take a step back, ready to leave. “Incredible.” You turn around and walk back to your car, JJ right behind you. 

“Don't leave, please,” he asks, and you stop in your tracks, turning around on the dirt and looking straight at him.  “I tried, you can't tell me to do more than that. I'm not gonna be called a whore and slut every five fucking minutes. It's appalling how your friends can't even pretend to like me for a few hours, but I'm supposed to do so while also being insulted. I'm not doing that. I'm sorry.” “I'll make it up to you, just don't go,” he begs and you shake your head. “No.” “What do you mean no?”  “I mean, no, because you have nothing to make up to me. They are the ones constantly fucking up. Last time you told them beforehand, and suddenly they all had different plans. They hate me,” you tell him, but he didn't seem to wanna hear it.  “Can we just try and-”  “I did try. Don't force me to do this, J. I can't do this if they can't even manage to not call me names,” you say quietly, and he takes your face in his hands, warm and calloused.  “Will you wait just another few minutes and if I can't fix it, we will go to my place. Sound all right?” His voice is low and raspy, and it's making you wet just a little bit.  “You never invited me to your house before,” you whisper, blushing and pressing your thighs together to try to get rid of the growing desire between them. “It's an equally favorable outcome to the other thing then?”  “More favorable to me,” you smile and lean up to peck his lips. “Use that magical charm of yours,” you whisper and push him back to go talk to his friends. 

Half an hour later you're all sitting on the small boat somewhere in the marsh.  “You want a beer?” JJ asks and hands you a can. “You know how to shotgun, right?”  “I can pretend I don't so you can show me,” you smile at him and he laughs.  “That would be cheating.” You grin at him before taking out your keys, plunging a hole in the can and chugging it in a matter of seconds.  “Impressive,” JJ notes before shotgunning his own can and dropping some beer on his sun kissed skin. You don't even think about it when you lean in and kiss the droplets away. Your kisses trail upwards, along his neck until they connect to his mouth, and he kisses you like his life depends on it. His hands come up to hold your face, while yours are in his neck, twirling the hair at the nape of it.  “I should shotgun a few more if this is the new process,” JJ smirks, his forehead leaning against yours.  You blink slowly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and giving him a small nod. “M-hmm,” you hum, and he places another kiss on your lips. 

“Should we, uh, play a game or?” Pope suggests, and you turn to shift your focus away from JJ and towards the people he calls his friends.  “What type of game?” you ask with a genuine interest.  “Truth or dare,” Kiara suggests with a mean smile on her face.  “Who starts?” you ask and give her a polite smile, serving its intended purpose when she rolls her eyes.  “Truth or dare, princess,” JJ asks and turns your head towards him with a simple nudge of his finger.  “Truth,” you whisper.  “Why did you come when I asked?”  “Because I like you,” you gaze into his blue eyes, and he smiles, “for more than the incredible sex also. It's actually pretty fun with you.”  “Definite win on my end,” he whispers.  “Truth or dare… John B,” you say before turning your head to look at him. He gives you a confused look, his eyes jumping between JJ and you.  “Truth,” he shrugs.  “Do you actually hate me or do you just hate me because your girlfriend hates me?” Your smile is sugar sweet, but the glare you give Sarah could definitely make milk curdle.  “I mean, you're a Kook and I don't understand what this is,” he gestures at JJ and you. “But I guess, I don't know you enough to hate you or like you.”  His answer genuinely surprises you because you didn't think he'd be honest and not just say the thing Sarah wanted to hear. 

The game goes back and forth with a few dares and a few harmless truths in between, until it's Sarah's turn, and she glares at you as if she wants to actually kill you.  “Truth or Dare, y/l/n?”  “Dare,” you reply quickly, and her mean smile grows wider.  “Call Rafe and tell him where you are,” she demands. “It's 2:30pm, he's in a meeting. I'm not gonna call him during a meeting just because of a stupid game,” you scoff and laugh at her stupid dare.  “How do you know he's in a meeting right this second?” she hits back at you, and you can't help but laugh even more, but you catch yourself and answer a bit more seriously. “I have his schedule memorized. That's what you do when you're a good girlfriend.”  “A good girlfriend wouldn't cheat!” she screams at you. “You think he doesn't? That's a pretty narrow-minded way to look at it, sis.” You know the new nickname has her boiling, and the little sadistic part of your brain loves to see it. “And you don't get to talk about cheating, everyone is aware of your timeline errors.”  “I never loved Topper,” she defends herself, as if it makes her morally superior to you. “And I don't love Rafe, but you at least had a fucking choice because your shitty life was never bound to you marrying whoever your parents pick so you ‘get to’ inherent what would rightfully be yours anyway. So don't fucking tell me what to do with my life, because everyone else has always done it too, and they had more legitimacy for it,” you yell at her, unintentionally spilling more of your secrets than you had initially wanted to, and they all go quiet. The only thing you can hear after you're done is a few frogs, the birds close by, the waves crashing against the boat and your heart pounding in your chest.

JJ pulls you in closer and hugs you while placing soft, calming kisses on your neck.  “I wanna go home,” you whisper to him, tired of having had to pretend, even if it had just been for an hour.  “Let me talk to them. I promise it's gonna get better,” he says and gets up.  There's no doubt in your mind that it won't. Yet you don't understand why you keep giving him, and with it, them, one chance after the other, when you wouldn't usually give anyone even a second chance. You look out onto the water, your legs propped up, arms around them and your head lying on your knees. You think back to the last night you had with your dad, before he had died in a horrible car crash. T-boned by a drunk driver who hadn't seen a red light. You think about how you had tried to convince him to change his mind, that you could run the company without a man by your side, that you were good enough. But all your pleas had fallen on deaf ears. And your mom isn't any better. She decided to stay away, vacating in Palm Beach and only coming home every other month to make sure you are still alive. She deals with grief like that. By sunbathing and drinking and pretending like everything is fine and perfect and not at all in shambles.  Instead, you decided to close off your heart, and that worked for nearly two years until JJ decided to charm his way into it. You don't like it, the thought of feeling all this pain again. Or worse, to know once you let yourself love, the pain will be inevitable. People leave one way or the other, that's how life has always been and how it always will be. 

“Hey,” John B rips you out of your head, and you don't even turn to look at him as he sits down next to you.  “What do you want?” you say in the meanest way you can conjure, but it still sounds pathetic.  “I'm sorry about your dad, I know he died a few years back. I, uhm, I just wanted to say I understand how hard it can be to live up to their expectations, especially after they-”  “I don't need your pity, Routledge,” you snap and look at him. “You don't know anything about me. You don't have to pretend to care.”  “I was just trying to help,” he apologizes and gets up again. 

Your mind wanders back to the night, to the pain. It's scarily easy to revisit that memory. Seeing yourself standing over the table in the morgue, having to identify that, “yes, that's my dad,” because your mother had broken down as soon as the message had come through. You were keeping yourself together for her, for everyone around you who came with their condolences and expected a consolation prize for caring the bare minimum. You remember taking the ring from his cold, stiff finger. You remember having to pick out the casket, the suit, the food, where and when and how and-  You feel like your lungs are empty, like you had stopped breathing air, but pain and desperation instead. Tears are building in your eyes. You can't blink, can't let them run, can't let anyone see you cry, especially not these people. The only one who has gotten to see you cry ever, apart from your parents, is Rafe. And maybe you are aware that you can't leave him because he knows the part of you that you try so hard to keep hidden. Because he was the only one caring for you when everyone else was solely relying on you.  And now you are hurting him, in a way you never thought you would, but you can't help it, you're too far in it now. You need to tell him, needed two months ago, but you hadn't, because you were scared of breaking his heart. Because you know telling him might mean losing the one good and secure thing you had going for yourself. Maybe you never considered it love, because it doesn't look like the love from the movies and books you basically inhaled in your early teens. Maybe you do have a childish outlook on love after all, because whatever connects you and Rafe goes deeper than that. 

“You okay?” JJ asks, standing over you, and you muster a faint smile for him.  “I just really wanna go home now, I'm sorry,” you apologize for it, although you know you're not the only one at fault for it. You're soft for him, because he needs it, because you need it in a way. But it's so different from Rafe and you don't know if you can survive without either of them. If you could, you'd put them in a blender and get the perfect boyfriend out of it. But life isn't a fairy tale. “It's okay,” he smiles and kisses your forehead before turning to the steering wheel and starting the engine. 

As soon as you're back at the Château you get off the boat and basically run towards your car. If not for JJ, you wouldn't even think twice about ever coming back. But this was his second home, his happy place.  “Hey, y/n, wait a sec,” JJ calls after you and you stop to turn around.  “I don't care if they like me, J, but I'm not gonna be able to do this again. Not like this. I really want to, for you, but if they can't bring up the same amount of- They need to try too, all of them, and not when I accidentally tell them my whole life story so they can pity me. I'm not gonna do it that way,” you say softly and he nods.  “I understand. Will you text me that you got home safe? Please,” he whispers and you nod. There's a moment of silence, insecure and heavy, as if he doesn't know what to do, so you do the only thing you can think of to stop the awkward moment from prolonging. In a quick motion you lean up and kiss his cheek. 

As soon as you come home you text him a quick “am home” and turn back to wallowing in your sadness.  It takes Rafe another two hours to get back home and as soon as he walks in, you jump into his arms, trying to find the little security you knew you could always hold onto.  “Hey, baby, what's up? Huh? Missed me that much?” Rafe asks with a light chuckle while holding you up, with one arm around your waist and the other holding onto his bag.  “Missed you,” you mumble into him, not wanting to actually tell him why you are feeling down, but you know you need to. Soon. Very soon.

He puts down his bag and carries you into the kitchen, sitting you down on the island and taking your puffy face in his hands.  “What happened?” he asks softly, softer than you know him.  “I don't want you to be angry with me,” you whisper, and he prods the inside of his cheek with his tongue before nodding.  “I won't be, I promise.”  “I, uh…,” the words get stuck in your throat, and you feel the tears well up again.  “Whatever it is, you know I love you,” he says, and it makes your heart feel even heavier.  “I've been seeing someone else,” you whisper, and he takes a step back, laughing and running his hands through his hair. There is no mistake in how mad he is, because this was a new level of mad, one you haven't seen before.  “Who?” he barks and you flinch. “Who is it, y/n?”  “No, you'll hurt him. I won't let you hurt him,” you shake your head, and he steps closer again.  “Why should I give a fuck about how you feel right now? Huh?! For how long have you been cheating on me?” he screams into your face. “Rafe, please,” you beg softly, and he takes a step away again, and a second later his fist lands in a cabinet door.  “How long, y/n?” he yells.  “Four months,” you whisper and he laughs.  “You gotta be kidding me.”  “I didn't know- It's confusing and then today-” you stammer, and he interrupts you.  “You were with him today? That's why you're crying? And you expect me to not go and kill that guy instantly?”  “I love you,” you yell at him, and he stops, furrowing his brows and looking at you more confused than you have ever seen him. 

“What?”  “I think so, at least. It's very confusing,” you mumble, looking down at your hands.  “Is that supposed to be an apology? You tell me you've been fucking some asshole on the side and think it'll all be made okay by finally telling me that you love me after two years?” His anger is back, but he's still confused, and you don't know what to do about it. All you know is that you need to be truthful about it, as much as you can, as much as he lets you. “I know it doesn't make sense and I know it's not an apology. I don't mean it like that. But today, things were said by other people, not him, he was trying to help- I don't know what I feel,” you shake your head.  “None of that makes any sense, baby,” Rafe runs his hand over his face.  “I didn't think that what I felt for you was love because no one ever told me it could be like that. But I do. I love you and I made a horrible mistake, but I would have never known- I can't survive on just one. I need both of you to be happy,” you say, and he steps closer, harshly taking your face in his hand.  “Who!”  “JJ,” you whisper and his hand slips down to your throat, holding you tight enough to restrict your blood flow, making you dizzy.  “You let a dirty Pogue fuck you? And then you come back here and pretend like nothing happened?”  “I love you,” you are practically begging him to not hurt JJ, your own well-being has become secondary the moment you decided to tell Rafe about it all.  “Is that why you wanted to do all that new shit?” he laughs almost hysterically, squeezing a little tighter and your vision starts getting blurry.  “Please,” you choke out, and he lets go again.  “You know what the worst part is? That this started making more sense in the last few months, and now you're tellin’ me it's because you’re fucking Maybank on the side. That's fucked up, y/n,” Rafe shakes his head.  “I never got mad at you for cheating on me,” you remind him quietly, it's a low blow, but you know it's gonna do the trick. His escapades early on in your relationship, and even a few slip ups in the first year after your dad hadn't bothered you much anyway back then.  “No, but you never got mad at me for anything because you don't have a fucking heart. You were acting like a fucking robot until-,” he doesn't even finish the sentence, only shaking his head yet again.  “I don't understand why, Rafe. You have to believe me. And I tried not to. I did. For months before. And then it happened once, and I tried to stay away but then you- you hurt my feelings and I had no one else-” you stammer, and he glares at you.  “The best sex we ever had? Because you had just fucked him?”  “I know you. You're not happy with all I need. And everything you can give me- It's not enough, and I hate myself for it. I wish it was but it isn't. And I can't keep on trying to change you. I won't do that to you. It's not fair to either of us,” you whisper.  “You think you can have us both? Maybe we should call your little boy toy and ask him what he thinks, because apparently you value his fucking Pogue opinion more than me!” Rafe snaps and rips the phone from your back pocket.  “Rafe, please don't,” you cry, and he smirks, but it's neither playful nor sweet, it's simply vicious.  “Oh, I have a way worse idea, baby, and you won't say no because you love me, right?” he taunts, and you nod slowly, knowing whatever’s to happen next won't be the last punishment you receive for your crimes. 

Rafe throws you over his shoulder and carries you upstairs and into the bedroom. Throwing you on the bed as if you weigh nothing.  You know not to move when he's in a mood, he'll do it by himself or give you strict orders to follow. Doing anything on your own account will just make it worse for you.  “Take off that horrible dress,” he barks while walking into the closet to pick out a tie and get his special box for you. You do as you are told, and he comes over to you, pulling on your arms and tying your wrists together behind your back so you can't use your hands anymore.  Then he pulls on the strings of the tiny bikini you had on, having expected to go swimming before you had left for JJ’s. The flimsy piece comes undone and Rafe slaps your ass a single time, but it stings harsh enough for you to whine a little.  “The more you cry, the worse it'll get,” he threatens, and you try to swallow the pain as he sits and pulls you to lie over his lap, spanking you for half an eternity. And even when he's done and goes over to softly massaging your butt, it's still stinging, and you don't know how much more you can take if this was the start of it. 

“You think that was enough? Or do you deserve some more?” Rafe asks and you gulp before replying quietly.  “I was a very bad girl,” you say, just like he always wanted to hear. It had only happened two times before that he had decided to play these games in such an extreme way. The first time you had drunkenly flirted with some Touron and Rafe had decided it was the best way to teach you a lesson. That was a month into your relationship. The second time was a week before your dad had died, and he keeps telling you that he regrets doing it, but you know he doesn't. You had made fun of his family that night, just a little bit, but it had been enough to grant a punishment.  But neither of those come close to the pain you imagine he must be feeling right now. And you rather let him take his anger out on you than go and hurt JJ. That was the better option, surely.  “Yes, you were, baby. That's why you're gonna do whatever I say now. You know the rules. And if you cum I'll hurt you some more,” Rafe pulls you back up and you nod.  “Won't cum.”  “Good. Now lay down and let me fuck your throat,” he says, and you hesitate for a second but do it anyway. He's aware that you don't like it, not because it's not fun, but because he's simply too big for you to be able to breathe properly while doing it on his terms.  

Yet here you are, lying on the bed with your head hanging off the edge. But before he tells you to open up, he goes to his box, taking out a tiny device and smirking mischievously.  “You know what, we're doing it differently tonight,” Rafe pulls you up to sit. Then he goes to bend you over and for a moment you think he's just gonna fuck you, but instead he shoves the toy into you, filling both holes without any prep, and you cry out at the unexpected intrusion and the low vibrations of the toy.  “No. You're not gonna cum from that, and if there's anything on that when I pull it out, I'll make it hurt worse. Do you understand?” He warns and you nod.  “I understand.”  “Good. Kneel,” he orders and points at the rug in front of the bed and you follow diligently. 

When he tells you to open up, you do it, and when he tells you to moan around him, you do it, and when he tells you to look into the camera, you do it, albeit reluctantly.  Rafe doesn't care that you're close to choking on his cock, or that you can't stop the tears from streaming down your cheek. He doesn't care that your jaw will hurt for the two following days. He doesn't care because he knows it's still not enough punishment, and you know he's right.  Once he's happy with his little video, he tells you to get up and lie down again, and once you do, he pulls you towards the edge of the bed again and goes back to fucking your throat. What you can't see, because his balls are in your face, is that he's gone back to filming you, especially the part where his dick goes so far down your throat that it's visible on your neck.  Somehow you managed to blend out the vibrations in your pussy and ass, the low intensity was barely doing anything to you but edge you on more and more. 

“You're a real slut, aren't you, baby,” he huffs after pulling out and manhandling you to be face down before him. Your legs are propped up and spread wide as he harshly pulls the toy out, and you can't help the gasp that escapes your throat.  “Tell me you love me again, and I might stop,” he rasps, and you are about to say it, but just as you open your mouth to speak, he thrusts into you. An obscenely loud moan is all you can conjure before he starts ramming into you.  “Tell me how much you love me!”  “Love you, Rafe. Love you and your cock so much,” you cry out and a second later your phone lands on the bed right next to your head.  “Look who called to check up on you, baby. Tell him how much you love when I take what's mine!” Rafe demands and your eyes fill with tears as you see the screen.  “What the fuck is this?” JJ asks and you sob.  “Rafe, no,” you cry.  “You want him so bad, he has to know what it means to share you. Because I'm not letting you go, baby,” Rafe growls, fucking you harder and your tears keep on streaming.  “Princess, it's okay. Focus,” JJ tells you through the phone, and you don't understand why he didn't hang up immediately.  “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Rafe, please,” you beg, but he won't stop, not until he's got what he wants.  “Tell him how much you love me,” Rafe barks, pulling on your hair and yanking you towards him. “You don't get to make any demands tonight, baby. You know what you did to me!”  He pushes you back down, and you land face first in the duvet, sobbing uncontrollably. “I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry,” you are close to hyperventilating. Your body is sore and tired, but he won't stop the attack on your poor pussy.  “You hear that Maybank, she loves me!” Rafe says, jealousy drenching his voice, and picks up the phone. “But I still don't think she deserves to cum. Do you?”  “You're sick, Rafe,” JJ hisses through the phone, but your mind is starting to go blank, the noise of his skin slapping against your own, and the quenching sound of your pussy is filling your ears.  “No, she's sick. One dick isn't enough for the little bitch. Nah, she needs two fillings to feel better about herself,” Rafe laughs, and you're so far gone that you can barely hear him anymore.  “Princess, focus on me. Come on, pretty girl,” JJ pleads and you nod absentmindedly.  “Shit, stop,” Rafe moans, but you can't. JJ's soft, loving words of encouragement have triggered your release, and you really don't have any control over it.  You moan so loud you think the whole island might hear, but you don't care, actually. And when you push your ass back into Rafe he loses his game and cums so hard that he collapses onto you almost instantly. 

Panting you lie there, incapable of saying a single word, but at least JJ had disconnected the call.  “I get it now,” Rafe pants and pulls you into him, hugging you and kissing the top of your head. “Maybe I can learn to live with it.”  “Love you,” is all you manage to say before your exhaustion takes over, and you fall into a deep dreamless slumber. 

You don't even feel like getting up the next morning, but you do it anyway. Pulling on one of Rafe's shirts to feel a tiny bit of familiar comfort you prod downstairs after having cleaned up the tiniest bit.  “Good morning,” Rafe says as soon as you step into the kitchen.  “Morning,” you walk past him, kissing his cheek just like any normal day. But unlike any normal day, Rafe isn't dressed yet, he's only got his shorts on and something tells you he had planned it.  “I don't think you should get to wear my shirts right now. I'm still mad at you, remember?” he nods at you, and you sigh, wanting to turn back and go change, but his hand shoots out to hold you back. “Oh, no, no. You're gonna take it off here. And you're gonna eat without it on.”  “But I don't have anything else on,” you complain quietly and he shrugs.  “Not my problem.”  You pull the shirt over your head and hand it to him. “Anything else?”  “Actually, yeah,” Rafe gives you a lopsided grin before sitting you up on the island. 

It stings when he pushes into you, stretching you to your limit without any prep. But it's a punishment, you shouldn't enjoy it anyway.  His grunts and curses and intensely hard thrusts make you whimper, but at least he doesn't tell you off about it this time. Instead, he encourages you, wanting to see the tears and as soon as they start running his thrusts grow sloppier.  “I brought waffles as a peace offering,” you hear JJ's voice and footsteps that are coming closer. Your head spins around, and you stare at him across the room. The shock on his face tells you that he had just as much been blindsided by this as you, and it takes him another moment to drag his eyes away from the scene. But Rafe just laughs and keeps fucking you.  “Look at him, he can't even look at you while I fuck you. How the fuck is that supposed to work, baby?”  “As if you'd like to see it the other way round,” JJ snaps back at him, his back still turned to you. But the pain is too much, you can't take it anymore.  “J, please,” it's a mere whisper that leaves you, but he walks over to you anyway, avoiding looking at Rafe.  “It's all right, I'm here,” JJ whispers to you while caressing your hair, and you look up at him, into his pretty blue eyes.  “Make her cum,” Rafe demands and JJ rolls his eyes.  “You know, if you were better at it, she would've never fucked me in the first place,” JJ glares at him, but you pull on his collar, kissing him and moaning into his mouth while Rafe keeps fucking you.  “You're doing so great, princess. Such a good girl,” JJ praises you and your stomach starts filling with tiny butterflies.  “More,” you moan and JJ looks up at Rafe. “Touch her,” he orders and for some reason Rafe does what he says and starts rubbing harsh circles on your clit.  “Oh God!” you scream, so close to your release that you feel like bursting. Your back lifts off the cold marble and your lips tremble. “That's it. Look at me baby,” JJ whispers and when your eyes meet his you feel afloat, just like the first time. “Let go,” he hushes, and your eyes roll back. You scream and feel how hard it is for Rafe to keep fucking you, but he tries anyway until he can't hold back anymore and fills you up with his hot seed.  “That was better than last night,” Rafe pants while tucking himself away and JJ comes around to pull you up and carry you upstairs. 

“Is this what you want?” JJ asks quietly after sitting you down on the toilet. Your voice is strained, but you only manage to nod a yes.  “We'll have to put down some ground rules, because I really don't wanna be in a situation where I find out what Rafe looks like when he finishes. That was way too close already,” JJ says while letting in a bath for you.  “I'm sorry,” you rasp, but he shakes his head.  “Don't apologize. If I hadn't told you to come by yesterday, this wouldn't be happening. And you should save your voice,” he smiles. 

The hot water helps with the pain, but leaning back into JJ and being with him without having to think about what might happen if someone finds out is freeing. It's nice and good and feels a thousand times better than before.  “I don't care if they get it or not. I know you can't help it,” he whispers to you, softly massaging your sore thighs under the water. “Stupid hearts,” he sighs.  “You okay?” Rafe asks, standing in the door, and you turn to look at him and nod. “Good. I have to go to work,” he says and takes a few steps over to kiss you softly. “Love you,” he whispers and turns around to leave without waiting for you to say it back. 

The following days are filled with planning and talking and fighting over phrasings, but in the end they manage to come to a conclusion that they can both live with. The easiest one at that. You get to choose, anything and everything when it comes to what happens between the three of you, in this weird new relationship you found yourself in. 

Most nights you find yourself sleeping in JJ's bed instead of your own, but Rafe doesn't mind it much, never having been much of a cuddler himself. But when it gets to your darkest moments, you don't trust yourself enough to talk to JJ, maybe it's stupid, but somehow you can't change it.  Yet you also don't think you'll ever regret your decision, especially when you're waking up to JJ plastering you with kisses before slowly fucking you awake. Or when he goes to eat you out while a boring movie is playing.  Or when Rafe comes home frustrated from a meeting and uses you in any way you let him, and sometimes he even lets JJ join and not just sit there and please you mentally. 

Your new favorite thing has to be sucking off JJ while Rafe is plowing into you.  With every deep thrust of Rafe's hard cock into your clenching core, you moan louder around JJ, and it's even harder for him to not cum as soon as he sees your puffy lips wrapped around his dick. And you love to swirl your tongue and play with his balls a little, slapping your lips and cheeks with his pretty cock until he begs for you to suck him dry. 

The days in between when you get time to recover properly are filled with surf lessons from JJ or going shopping with Rafe.  It's passed the point where only the three of you and the people close to you know about the arrangement. Especially parties start to be a boiling pot for dramatics. 

You're at the Boneyard, playing stupid drinking games with JJ, having fun the way teenagers are supposed to be.  You're aware that the people around you talk, but you couldn't care less because you're on cloud nine, too happy to let anybody ruin it. But JJ is the complete opposite. The more people he hears, the more agitated he gets.  “What’ya say?” he snaps at some guy, pushing him back.  “Chill bro,” the boy tries to laugh it off.  “No, repeat what you said, asshole,” JJ pushes.  “Only the biggest of sluts need-” He doesn't get to finish the repetition of his words when JJ's fist lands in his face. You yell for him to stop, but it's like he's in a trance. It takes both John B and Pope, who storm over from the other side of the party, to pull JJ off the guy.  “What the fuck, bro,” John B shoves JJ backwards but J just laughs.  “He deserved it.”  “Why ‘cause he said something mean?” Pope snaps, and you cross your arms in front of your chest.  “You wouldn't get it, Pope,” JJ shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. “Y'all just don't get it.”  “We don't, because it doesn't make sense,” Pope counters and you scoff.  “Just because you don't understand something, doesn't mean it's shit or that we're horrible people for it.”  “I didn't say that,” he shakes his head, but you're done with them, you have been for a long time.  “C’mon, J,” you say and start walking towards where you had parked your car. 

At home, you start by cleaning him up, kissing him all over in the shower until he pins you against the tiles. His kisses are forceful, and he's groping at your ass and thighs. Picking you up and fucking up into you while you moan and gasp. He doesn't give you time to cum when he finishes and puts you down on your feet.  This is different from what you know of him, but it intrigues you too. JJ turns you around and snakes his arm around your thigh, pushing two fingers into your sore cunt to stop you from spilling out.  “I know I should've asked, but it's gonna be great. I promise,” he whispers into your ear before leading you into the bedroom and making you lie down.

JJ is standing in front of you, your legs pressed to your chest, and he’s holding onto your hips as he fucks you. It's not loving and soft like any time before. It's harsh and fast, and you like it too much. You like the sound of his claves crashing into your ass, the way his balls slap against your skin. The wet noises your pussy makes when he drags his cock out of you just to slam right back in. And the way your tits jiggle with the movement. Your hands are clawing at the sheets when JJ starts playing with your clit, making you cum in a matter of seconds. You know you'll be there for hours when he shoots his cum into you and just keeps going. You haven't quite figured out which way you like it better; with JJ’s incredibly small refractory period, or Rafe's stamina to hold out for just how long he wants to. 

“Who's gonna clean that up?” you hear Rafe ask and your head spins around to look at him. Your mind is blurry with pleasure, your mouth agape and JJ doesn't stop and rips another orgasm from you. Rafe has never actually watched him fuck you, but something about this is making him want to stay and watch.  Your back arches up again, and JJ grunts and curses, filling you up for the fifth time that night, and you watch Rafe's face contort in a light confusion.  “You just keep going? Maybe you should give her some time, dude,” Rafe says, and you shake your head at him.  “She'll have time once I'm done,” JJ growls, and it sends shivers down your spine, making you roll your eyes back. “Isn't that right, baby?”  “Yes, yes, yes-” you scream each time his cock pushes against your cervix as if he wants to pass through it. “Want your cum, JJ, all of it,” you babble, maybe you like giving Rafe a show too.  “Good girl,” JJ moans and cums another time, making you clench around him with ease. 

“You see that,” JJ smirks down at you, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to see the tip of his dick poking against your stomach. “That's it, princess,” he praises you before pushing down on your stomach, and you fall back, moaning, incapable of holding yourself up with the intense pleasure he's giving you.  “Give me my phone,” JJ orders and for a moment you have forgotten that Rafe is still there, still watching. He hands JJ his phone and J points the lense right at where you two are connected.  His free hand is back to rubbing torturously harsh circles on your clit, making you mewl and cry out.  “Cum for me, princess. Make me proud, baby,” JJ hums, and you let go of the tension. Screaming his name and squeezing his cock so hard that he cums almost instantly, pushing in farther and holding himself there until he's all done.  And once he's pulled out, he goes down on his knees before you, pointing the camera right at your pussy, clenching around nothing and pushing all his cum out of you and letting it drip down onto the rug. 

“What she do?” Rafe asks just as JJ comes back from the bathroom, a wet washcloth in his hand.  “Nothing,” JJ mutters while cleaning you up, but you can't move, not yet. Your legs feel like they are made of rubber and your mind is empty, only having enough capacity to listen to their words.  “Why'd you do this then?” Rafe points at your utterly fucked out state.  “Do I ask you why you do what you do? No. Just let it go,” JJ snaps at him and leaves for his room.  “You could at least change the fucking sheets!” Rafe yells after him, but it's no use. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” Rafe whispers and picks you up, holding you in his arms while you regain your strength.  “Frustrated,” you mumble and look at him with your glossy eyes.  “Maybank? Why?”  “Fight- Asshole-” you stammer, and he carries you out of the room and towards JJ’s.  “What did you do?” Rafe barks at JJ, your body still tightly wrapped around him.  “None of your fucking business,” JJ hisses.  “It fucking is when it ends with her losing all bodily capabilities, you ass,” Rafe yells, and you try to cover your ears, but it doesn't really help.  “He called her a whore, and he had to pay for it. I don't care what they say, but they don't get to insult her,” JJ explains harshly, and you start to slowly feel your toes again.  “Doesn't explain why you nearly fucked her into subdrop,” Rafe shakes his head and caresses your back. “You can't just do shit like that, and you know it.”  “She said she was okay with it.”  “She's a fucking people pleaser, asshole,” Rafe snaps, and you lift your head from his shoulder.  “Please stop,” you whisper, and he wipes a tear from your cheek.  “It's okay, baby,” Rafe whispers to you before turning back to JJ. “Don't let your fucking anger out on her without making sure she's alright.” “Noted,” JJ says, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes.  “Good, because you gotta aftercare the shit out of her now. I'm not cleaning up your messes, Maybank,” Rafe tells him and basically hands you to him as if you were nothing more than a puppet. 

“I'm sorry, love,” JJ whispers, placing you in the hot water and running his hand through his hair.  “S’okay,” you mumble and look up at him with a droopy smile.  “I'm gonna clean up, and then I'll be right with you, all right?” He kisses you gently and leaves again.  You think back to it, the moment he snapped. He looked like a different person, more like his dad in a way, and although you never even saw Luke Maybank up close, you know it’s true. You know the rumors are true. He didn't tell you, but in your heart you know it.  If his friends hadn't come, he wouldn't have stopped. If they hadn't showed up, the other guy would be dead. If it hadn't been for you, none of it would've happened.  It’s a rather quick spiral that you go down, and you can't stop yourself from crying, not even when JJ comes back and looks at you rather confused.  “Hey. Hey, pretty girl, don't cry. It's okay. You're okay. I'm here,” he tells you and pulls your head to his chest. But it doesn't help. You can't stop feeling like it was all your fault, all the pain in your life is your fault.  “Rafe!” JJ shouts, and it only takes a minute for him to run in.  “What you do now?”  “Nothing, I came back, and she's crying, and she won't stop,” JJ defends himself.  “Go. You seriously have no clue,” Rafe shakes his head and takes JJ's spot next to you. 

“What's wrong, baby,” Rafe whispers to you, holding your face in his big hands.  “It's my fault. I killed him. It's my fault,” you sob and he shakes his head.  “No, it's not. You know it's not,” Rafe assures you, but you're too far gone for it to work. “I did it. I killed him,” you cry and he clenches his jaw.  “Y/n, you didn't drive that car, it's not your fault. Please, listen to me,” Rafe pleads, but you shake your head, not wanting to believe him.  “Hey, hey, look at me,” he orders, and you turn your eyes back on him. “Three things you feel, name them.” “Pain. Tired. Sad,” you answer slowly.  “Four things you can touch.”  “Water, you, me, bathtub,” you reply a little faster and he nods.  “Five things you see,” Rafe whispers, and you look around in front of you. “Towel, shower, robe, painting-” your eyes get stuck on the blonde boy that is standing in the doorway of the bathroom, “JJ.”  Rafe snaps around to look at him. “I told you to leave!”  “What's wrong with her?” JJ asks quietly, and your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach.  “Leave!” Rafe yells, and it takes a moment for JJ to realize that it will have consequences if he doesn't. But Rafe had already turned back around to you, stroking your hair. “We should get you to bed, baby.”  He dries you up and puts you in a shirt of his to sleep in, before laying you down in your bed and turning off the lights. 

When you wake up, you're alone, and you decide to not get ready and just go downstairs the way you are. Before you can meet the boys in the kitchen you overhear them talking and stop in your tracks.  “That doesn't make sense,” JJ says.  “No shit. But that's just how it's been ever since. Your stupid fight triggered something, and the day is coming up in a week- It's a fucking minefield this time of year,” Rafe sighs.  “So we distract her?” JJ asks and Rafe scoffs.  “That's just delaying it. No, you just gotta stay with her and make sure she won't spiral. And when she does you have to keep telling her that it's not her fault, and pull her out of it. The naming thing always works,” Rafe replies.  “And what if it doesn't?”  “I don't know.” 

You turn the corner and pretend like you had just come down the stairs, walking straight to the coffee machine.  “How did you sleep?” Rafe asks with a smile.  “Alone,” you say and take your mug, nearly burning your tongue as you take a sip.  “I'm sorry, y/n, for yesterday and all,” JJ apologizes, but you just shrug.  “Shit happens.” Pretending to not care was easy, too easy.  “I’m gonna be at the office all day. You think you're gonna be all right?” Rafe asks and you nod.  “I don't know why we shouldn't be.” 

You spend your day training, not having done so in too long for your own liking. The water calms your mind and gives you enough time to reflect on your life choices.  You know Rafe is right. You know that it's not your fault. But the guilt you feel around it doesn't just vanish because of it. 

Later that day Rafe texts you that you're having dinner at the country club with his dad, meaning JJ isn't allowed to come.  “I'll just enjoy the view right now,” JJ smiles and watches you get dressed. The underwear set is new, and you can tell by the way he's looking at you that he wants nothing more than to take it off again.  “If it was my call,” you start, but he interjects.  “I know, but it isn't. Besides, I don't really give a shit about family dinners and all that fancy bullshit.”  “Sarah will be there, and John B,” you remind him, but he shrugs.  “So what?” “Have you talked to them at all in the last few weeks?” you ask and JJ rubs over the light stubble on his chin.  “They didn't reach out either.”  “They are your family though. That's what you told me,” you whisper. “I have a new family now. I have you,” JJ smiles and takes your dress from the clothing hanger.  “That's not enough, and you know it,” you say while stepping into the dress and letting him zip it up.  “It's enough for you,” he says, and you sigh, looking at him through the mirror in your closet. “But I'm a heartless bitch with more money than anyone else on this island. I don't need anything more, and if I did, I could just buy it.” Your fingers fumble with the necklace until JJ takes it from you and places it around your neck.  “I know there's a heart in there,” JJ says while holding you from behind, his right hand resting on top of your chest.  “Horrible. We should go get a knife and cut it out,” you whisper with a smile and he kisses your shoulder.  “You'd kill me if I said what I was thinking right now,” he mumbles against your skin and your heart stops for a moment, scared that he would say the dreaded words that you knew would definitely complicate your life even more. “Then you really shouldn't say it.”  “I should, but I won't,” he looks back up, leaning his head against yours, smiling. 

The dinner goes rather smoothly, although Sarah still gives you a side eye and once the Camerons are gone, John B asks how JJ is, but nothing more.  “Boring as ever,” you complain on the drive home.  “Glad he didn't ask when we're getting married,” Rafe exhales a laugh.  “Hmmm, let me think,” you tap your finger against your chin in a joking manner. “We can fuck them all over and just fly to Vegas right now.”  “Wouldn't be the worst idea we ever had,” he laughs and takes your hand up to kiss it just as he turns into your driveway.  “My mom expects a huge white wedding. At least a hundred guests,” you sigh while getting out of the car.  “We should start planning then,” Rafe grins at you, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head.

“What happens to that one, once we get married?” Rafe asks you, pointing at JJ who is standing in the kitchen with nothing more than his boxers on.  “They should make this harem thing legal,” JJ says and shugs the rest of his drink.  “A harem is one guy with many women, dumbass,” you laugh.  “The opposite of that then,” JJ shrugs.  “Sure,” Rafe rolls his eyes at him and JJ flips him off.  “Sometimes I think you guys forget who's the boss around here,” you say and zip your dress open, letting it fall to the ground and walking upstairs. “First one up gets to start,” you call out and hear them arguing already. 

“Just because you're first, doesn't mean you know what you're doing,” JJ complains.  “Fine, you start then, genius,” Rafe scoffs, and you furrow your brows, it was unusual for Rafe to give in and let JJ do anything to you unless you specifically asked for it.  “What's the plan here, boys?” you ask with an anticipating smile on your lips.  JJ pulls you into his arms, kissing you deeply and pushing you against the bed. The backs of your knees hit the wood and you fall down.  “Just relax, gorgeous,” he muses and drops down on his knees before you, taking off your heels and letting his hands run up to your thighs. You sigh into it, the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin and the kisses he leaves on the inside of your thighs before unclasping the lace body right on top of your pussy.  JJ rolls the fabric up to reveal your stomach, kissing and nipping at your skin; biting your hip and making you jump in surprise. He loves to tease you, and you'd never tell him to stop, ever.  He comes up to kiss you, pushing the lace up even farther and helping you take it off completely. Kissing your neck and leaving marks you hear him chuckle, then his lips meet your ear, and he whispers, “you think he's taking any notes?”  Your eyes dart over to Rafe who has pulled a chair over and is watching you carefully. “Maybe,” you reply.  JJ hums, picking up his head to smile at you. “Hopefully.” 

JJ kisses down your neck, following along your collarbone and to your tits. He sucks on your nipple, grazing over it with his teeth before he pulls on it and your back arches up.  “Would be neglectful to not give you the same attention,” JJ says to your other tit, and you would tell him off if he wasn't squeezing your sensitive nipple right in that second. His hand is playing with your sore tit while his mouth attacks the other. It's overwhelming and perfect, and you don't see any reason to hold back. Your moans and gasps fill the room, and they continue on even once he has let off your boobs and moved downward again. He sucks hickeys into the soft skin of your thighs, making you mewl and squirm.  “Tell me what you want me to do to you, princess,” JJ demands, and you grasp into his hair to push his face into your clothed cunt. He blows a little against your wet slip, and you instinctively want to close your legs, but he holds them in place.  “You should let me take this pretty thing off first,” JJ smirks and you lift your hips. The tiny slip is off faster than you can say your own name. 

“Tastes so fucking sweet, baby,” JJ moans after licking over your wet pussy, his tongue dipping between your folds and torturing your clit a little.  “Hold on, princess,” JJ smirks up at you and your hand finds his hair, tugging on the fine strands as he plunges his tongue into your pussy. His nose presses against your clit, and with every stroke of his tongue, he edges you closer.  “More, JJ, please,” you moan, and he starts to suck on your clit while pushing his fingers into you. Curling them and sucking harsher, almost biting down on your clit, and you can't help but grind your hips against him. When his fingers come up to your face, and you lick them off, you already feel like you're about to explode.  “Cum on my tongue, baby,” JJ hums into you, licking long strides up your pussy before pressing his tongue flat against your entrance and rubbing his nose on your clit.  You keep rolling your hips and moaning his name as you come undone for him. His new technique isn't as good as the old one, but you're not one to complain about it. JJ gets up and wipes his face on a small towel that Rafe hands him, but you can't stop staring at the wet spot in his boxers.  “Again?” you ask JJ with a smile and he shrugs.  “Can't help it. You taste too good, baby.” 

You hold your hand out for Rafe after sitting up, and he takes and intertwines your fingers. He's still in his suit pants and shirt, looking down at you with a lustrous smile.  “You look really hot in this,” you whisper and nod, but your hands wander to the buttons, slowly opening the shirt until you can push it off his shoulders. His abs look so rideable to you, but you are still unsure if he'd let you once you ask.  “You're way hotter, baby. Next time I get to take off the fancy shit,” Rafe growls, his hand  cupping your tit, brushing his thumb over your tit, but his eyes shift towards JJ. “You understand?”  But JJ just holds his hands up in defense and sits down on the chair.  “Take the pants off, babe,” you pout at Rafe, and he slowly opens his belt, pulling it out and dropping it to the side. It was like he was doing a strip show for you, and you loved every second of it.  Rafe pushes you to lie down, your hands pinned over your head as he kisses you aggressively. His free hand gropes at your tit, and you lift your hips to press your wet cunt against his hard cock.  “Always so needy,” Rafe mocks you before going down on his knees between your legs.  He's aggressive and fast, sucking on your clit with so much pressure building that you are scared he's gonna rip it off. But your screams just turn him on even more. His tongue thrusts into you with a harsh pace, and you try to get away from him, but he's holding you in place.  “Curl it,” JJ says and Rafe listens, curling his tongue up and ripping an orgasm out of you in a matter of seconds. 

“J,” you pant and Rafe wants to get up, but you close your thighs around his head. “No, you stay. J, come here,” you tap the bed right next to your head. They do as you say, and while Rafe is eating you out another time, JJ is fucking your throat and praising you.  Before JJ can cum you pull him from your throat and pump his cock slower, trying to pace him just a bit. But when you look at the two boys, so helpless when it comes to your wants and needs, you can't help yourself.  With a quick move you have J’s dick back in your warm and wet mouth, swirling your tongue and hollowing your cheeks. Your hand is massaging his balls, and he throws his head back and fills your mouth with his salty cum. It feels so good, you cum instantly, creaming all over Rafe's pretty face.  “Definitely doing this again,” you sigh, falling flat into the bed and not planning on getting up anytime soon. 

The engagement dinner is jarring and the only reason you can get through it is, because Rafe keeps reminding you that it'll be over soon, his hand resting on your thigh the whole night. 

But the engagement party, the weekend after is fun, is actually fun.  You invited everyone you knew, including JJ's friends and Barry, who you hadn't talked to in ages. You spend the first half of the night tightly wrapped in Rafe's arm, smiling and laughing at some things his friends say.  Sitting on the couch on Rafe's lap you let your eyes wander, and they get stuck on JJ who is visibly uncomfortable while nipping on his beer.  “Maybe a blowjob will lighten his mood,” you whisper to Rafe, but he shakes his head.  “No, but honesty might.”  “What do you mean?” you ask and look at your, now, fiancée.  “I mean, he's been miserable and fighting it ever since we brought up that this would be happening. Not like you have much of a choice anyway,” Rafe shrugs lightly and runs his hand over your back.  “How do you know he's miserable?” you wonder, eyeing your boyfriend across the room.  “Because I use my eyes, and to be fair, I'd be pouting too if you wanted to marry him instead of me.”  “And what am I supposed to tell him? He knows I don't have a choice if I wanna keep the company,” you sigh.  “The truth. That you love him,” Rafe whispers and kisses your cheek.  “You can't know that,” you shake your head and he laughs.  “I see the way you two look at each other. I love you so much baby, but you've never looked at me like that.” “That doesn't mean anything,” you fight his words, not wanting him to be right about it.  “I mean, you can try it with the blowjob, but I think the truth would be better,” Rafe smiles and slaps your ass, signaling you to get up. 

You're dragging your feet walking over to JJ. “Look at that, a Pogue in a Kook mansion,” you tease with a smile.  “Hey,” he mumbles without looking at you.  “You okay?” you whisper and he nods, avoiding your eyes.  “Why shouldn't I be?” “Because you've been avoiding me all day.” You reach out your hand to hold onto his and as soon as your delicate fingers close around his, he stares at you. Pain filled blue eyes and a merely unnoticeable tremble on his lip.  “Do I have to be happy about it? You want me to be happy about the fact that you're leaving me?” he hisses at you, but you feel like a weight is lifted off you, a soft smile tugging at your lips.  “Come on, I need to tell you something,” you whisper and lead him upstairs to your bedroom, unlocking the door and stepping inside. 

“Why did you bring me here?” JJ asks, his hand is holding onto the bottle for dear life. “Sit with me,” you say and place yourself at the edge of the bed. He follows reluctantly, yet again avoiding to even look at you.  “JJ, I'm not leaving you,” you whisper and he scoffs. “Sure you aren't.” “I'm serious, J. Just because I have to marry Rafe, doesn't mean anything changes between us.”  “Sure it won't, until you want to have kids, and then it's no longer appropriate,” he mutters, and you don't know how to convince him. Maybe Rafe was right with his assumption about him, about you. But the thought of it is debilitating.  “When I have kids they will have my name, JJ. Do you not want kids?” you ask and he sighs.  “I don't just want any kids, y/n, I want your kids,” he whispers and turns to look at you.  “Why would you think I'll leave you then?”  “Because you are marrying Rafe. Starting a family with Rafe. Just like the plan was. I'm nowhere close to being part of that picture,” he talks himself down, and you really have no more words left inside you. 

You take his face into your hands and kiss him. Your heart is racing while looking at him and your throat feels dry, but you know you have to do it. And you know Rafe is right, you've known it ever since you let JJ compromise your thoughts from the very first time.  “I love you, JJ,” you whisper, and his eyes go wide.  “You sure?” he asks and as soon as you nod he pins you down onto the bed and starts kissing you. Your giggles and the soft attempts to get away from him are making it even better, until he has you pinned right where he wants you, and you are panting, looking up at him.  “You're so beautiful, y/n,” JJ whispers, diving down to kiss you, sloppy and with a smile on both your lips.  “We should go back down,” you whisper and he shakes his head.  “Not yet.” “They might be looking for us and I don't-”  You don't get to finish your sentence when his lips find yours again. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and entangles his tongue with yours until you moan into him.  “I love you, y/n,” JJ whispers, and nuzzles his face into your neck. 

And before you can think twice about it, your little make out session has turned into the best sex you've ever had with him. JJ is sitting under you as you softly roll your hips. He's buried so deep into you that every miniscule move is sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His hands are rubbing over your hips and ass in a perpetual motion, while yours play with his hair.  You think you could stay like this forever, just you and him in perfect synchrony; in love.  And the only time his eyes leave yours is when he dips his head to suck on your tits, or kiss your neck.  When he turns you around to lie down and thrusts into you, it's like he's fucking you for the first time. A plethora of praises and a dozen more “I love you’s” fall from his lips while all you can do is moan and babble incoherently about how much you love him too. 

When you find your way back downstairs, after what felt like an eternity, his arms are wrapped around you. JJ is himself again, flirty and always joking, and so incredibly more touchy than before.  “I see you made up,” Rafe smiles and holds his hand out, for you to take your seat back on his lap.  “Excuse me, you had her all night,” JJ complains and pulls you away, just to sit down right next to Rafe and let you kiss him like you had wanted to.  “No more trouble in paradise?” Rafe whispers to you and you shake your head.  “I love my boys,” you sigh.  “And I thought you went with the blowjob,” Rafe teases you and you roll your eyes.  “I could've gotten a blowjob?” JJ gasps quietly and softly pinches your thigh.  “You get those all the time, dumbass,” you giggle, and he smiles at you, completely enamored by your whole being.  “To think I get to be this lucky just because I couldn't stop staring at your tits, princess,” JJ whispers.  “Pretty nice tits,” Rafe agrees with a mumble.  “Pretty nice dicks,” you giggle and cuddle into JJ, bathing in the newfound closeness and in your mind you're already planning it all out; the kids, the dog, and the two loves of your life. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

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[filthgarbage86]

Take me to Church

Note: this definitely has absolutely nothing to do with the church, but when Eddie feels you for the first time, he's convinced he's found a new religion: you.

You're over at Eddie's for a movie night and dinner like every other week. Normally, you both agree to just wear your pajamas for ultimate comfort. But tonight, you were a little bit more comfortable than normal...

Content warning: smut. filth. innocent, painfully innocent reader. lots and lots of consent, lots of reassurance. Praise kink/degration kink. Body Worship. reader!has a vagina, Eddie x reader, ass grabbing, fingering, p in v, kitchen sex, teasing. Let me know if I missed anything!

you had to know

Eddie is sitting on the edge of his seat, in the kitchen, as you're reaching for something in the cupboard.

Except you're in your night-time wear. Which is always a big shirt and underwear. But you usually put shorts on or pants on in front of Eddie, you guys had only just recently gotten together. You were still getting comfortable with him.

You seem to be plenty comfortable, because as you're not wearing your shorts or pants. You're wearing cheeky, little, boyshort undies that have Eddie realizing he's never really seen your ass. And he feels like he's transcended.

Surely you know that you're showing your whole ass right now.

But you continued to reach on your tiptoes to get something, a snack from the top shelf, but you still had to reach with every inch you could.

"Should I say something?" he thought to himself, immediately followed by the smallest, tiniest, moment of selfish-intent of he didn't want to say something. He wanted to enjoy just looking at you, completely unaware.

"Am I allowed to look? Is this okay? We are together, it's not illegal i guess, but what if-" his spiral came to stop as soon as you came back down, flattening your feet.

You mindlessly pull down your shirt, just like you normally do, oblivious. Until you turned around. And you're greeted with Eddie turning his head so quickly down to the table, trying to cover the bright flush of his cheeks, hoping he didn't get caught. He definitely got caught.

What's up with him? What could have... You immediately go to cover your ass, literally, and are bug eyed. He was totally looking. You giggle a little to yourself. Eddie was staring at your ass and you totally caught him.

"What's so funny?"

"I don't know, what's got you so flustered, huh? See something?"

It was his turn to go bug-eyed. "I didn't mean to- not that I didn't want to, I mean I did, but I didn't want you to get uncomfortable- but I thought for sure you had to have known- but i didn't want to- I was"

You're giggling once again, you've finally got big, scary, mysterious, metalhead dork babbling on, all because he got caught looking at your ass. You walk over very swiftly but gently and hold onto his face, his cheeks immediately warming yours. His face settles into your hold, you loved when he did this.

"Eddie, it's okay, I'm not mad."

"You're not?"

"No, of course not, I'm just a little embarrassed"

"Angel, why are you embarrassed?"

It's your turn to blush, "cause.. you know.. i didn't really realize you were paying attention and that my ass was just out. it's a bit embarrassing of me."

He immediately puts his hands on the curve where your hips and waist meet "Honey, I promise you, it was not embarrassing in the slightest. I felt very guilty at how lucky I felt..."

"Guilty? Lucky? What are you-"

"Can I touch it?"

"What?"

"Y/N, can I touch your ass?"

well shit you are officially more flustered than he was before all of this. Shit. What was even happening? You couldn't do much more than nod your head slowly and softly. He was going to die, how could someone be so fucking hot and so fucking cute at the same time?

"Are you sure? I want you to be fully comfortable. You can tell me how you feel if you don't want me to okay?"

"I know. It's okay. You can do it."

"Can do...?" Okay now he's just being mean.

you are trying to look everywhere else, but it's hard when he's still sitting at the kitchen chair and looking up at you like you hang the stars individually. You take a deep breathe, close your eyes, and at that he squeezes your hips a little. God damn it, you thought you were in control in this situation. "you can... touch me, Eddie"

"Thank you" and with that he slides his hands down your hips with a slight squeeze, then your thighs, first the front a few times, to the sides, wrapping his arms and hands around your thighs starting from the backs of your knees and slides up to grab your ass. Finally.

Both of you groan at this gesture. Your body felt like it was on fire just from his touch, you're already doomed. It felt so good to touch you, you were so soft and were so perfect to him. He couldn't stop groping and kneading and gripping onto your ass as though he was trying to burn the feeling into his head. He practically was.

You breathe out a quiet "Eddie" and he groans again

"Yes Angel?" "Nothing it just.. feels.. good. Thank you" "oh you sweet, beautiful angel, no need to thank me, you are worthy of worship." "Cheeseball." "I'm so serious. you look like those paintings we had to study in history."

You were so fuzzy brained just from his touch, you wanted him to keep touching you. You wanted more. You needed more. It was almost like he heard your thought. He takes one of his hands regrettably off you, but just long enough to where your whine in protest turned into another breathy moan. He grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you feverishly, gripping onto your ass with his other hand hard. You wondered if there would be marks left over, you hoped there would be.

You couldn't stand even the slight distance, you give up caring and straddle him on the kitchen chair. Before wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close to you, not wanting to take your lips off his for even a second, you moved his hand back onto your ass. He groans, deepening the kiss and holding and groping and feeling you.

He moves then to kissing your jawline, down your neck, and up to your sensitive spot near your ear where you could feel and hear every breathe, every whine, every moan this man let out and you were lost. You were completely lost in the moment, your whole body on fire, a heat you've never felt before. You needed him, desperately.

"Eddie, I want.." "Hmm? What was that baby? What do you want?" "Mmmhmm eddieeee" He loosens his grip slightly, having you whine again in protest, "What do you want princess? What do you need?" "I want you to touch me." He chuckles to himself "I am touching you honey" "I mean.. everywhere" "What was that?" Bastard even leaned into you so you could repeat your whisper

"Damn it, Eddie, I don't know. I just want you to touch me everywhere, touch me like you want me."

His face was so still for a second, before his eyes flash with vigor, something sinister behind them, coupled with a wicked smile that went ear to ear. "I can touch you baby?"

"Please."

You would have thought you just told him he won the lottery and are performing in Vegas. He crashes his mouth back onto yours and holds your hips down as he grinds up into you, causing you to gasp at the friction. He used that moment to deepen the kiss, engulfing you in the understanding that he wasn't just touching you how he wanted, but how he needed.

His hands were everywhere. On your hips, thighs, your chest, your ass still, wrapped around you, he couldn't stop until he memorized every single inch of you. He has you writhing under his touch. You were delirious, grinding down onto him as he worked you up. Both of you were just a pair of huffing, panting, moaning messes.

"Do you... want to.. move to.. my room..." Eddie said in between kisses, which he took turns where he was kissing.

"No I need you now. Right now. Please."

"In the kitchen? that's filthy, baby"

"Doesn't matter, I want it, I need you. Please."

"Don't gotta tell me twice"

He lifts your shirt off first, practically drooling at your exposed chest and you had to fight every intention of hiding them. He quickly disguarded his own shirt and then latched his mouth onto one of your nipples and teased the other with his fingers.

"fuck.. shit... god yes. thank you."

"Fuck you're so polite baby, how'd I get so lucky to have such a well mannered filthy little slut?" you whimper at his words, near tears from pleasure. This was going very fast but you were so caught up in it, you didn't dare stop it.

Eddie took one of his hands and slithered down and down and down until he reached your cute, sinful little booty shorts and spread your ass just slightly to rile you up again. This man was going to be the absolute death of you.

He slowly drags then his hand down until he's literally holding your clothed pussy in his hand and you have to really control yourself not to immediate grind down into his touch. That didn't last long though, as he presses two fingers gentle upwards to add pressure directly to your clit. Your eyes roll back a bit, you're so sensitive right now and you just want to put your head down into his neck but you didn't want to give up just yet.

You finally do grind down onto him and he grabs you by your ass with both hands, stands you up, pulls your underwear down while staring you. You couldn't not look at him but that didn't stop you from going completely fuzzy brained. You felt like you were short circuiting.

"You still with me, Angel? You're awfully quiet" "I just don't want to ruin it." "Sweetie, you couldn't ruin this. You are... everything. Like you are so unbelievably stunning, I don't know what to do with myself, but I have many ideas of what I want to do to you. If you still want."

"Yes please."

"Can I finger you, please?" How could you say no to him when he asked so nicely.

You settle back down onto his lap and his kisses turn more gentle. He kisses you on your shoulders, your collarbone, your neck, everywhere he could get to. Down the valley of your chest, even kisses you on both sides with such lightness it makes you dizzy and drunk from affection. You were in heaven.

As he's doing this, his hand slides back and behind you, slipping his fingers in between your pussy. You are soaked. Wet, sticky, sweetly soaked and he decides right there that he himself is ruined forever. He's never felt such a plump, soft, wet, beautiful pussy as yours. He rubs a few circles around your clit to test the waters a bit and are welcomed with breathy moans once again.

"Yes please" you whisper moan to him, your head really meeting his shoulder. He takes this as encouragement to keep going. He takes one finger and inserts it slowly, until he is knuckle deep. His finger starts pumping into at a pain-aching slow speed - "Eddie.. more please. Please a little faster"

He immediately responds and is welcomed with even more sounds. you are giving him so many hums and moans and whines as he changes up his speed, inserting one then two more fingers into you. He's still kissing you all the while and you couldn't care anymore what you look or sound like. It didn't matter, you were a goddess to him.

"That feel good, baby? You like that?" "Feels sooo goooood eddieeee, thank youuu"

"Anything for you, angel. Fuck, you're doing so so so well."

"Can you fuck me, please? I'm ready. I want you to fuck me."

He slips his fingers out of you, leaving you empty long enough to pull down his boxers down enough to spring his dick loose, slapping against his stomach. It was big. It was long. Oh fuck, why are you both scared but so excited at the same time?

You resaddle him, literally feeling like you're saddling up, take hold of his dick and rub the head against your slick. Both of you groan at the sensation, Eddie more so once your hand fondled his cock a bit to distribute your slick onto his dick as lube and he was going to lose his mind. Finally, you line up, and start inching your way down down down until you're flushed against Eddie's lap.

Both of you just sit there for a minute, Eddie trying not to blow his load just from how warm you are and how well you squeeze his cock around your walls. You've never felt this full before, you've heard of the stretch before but you felt like you felt Eddie in your stomach and it felt good. You started rocking a bit and you start seeing stars.

It isn't long until Eddie is humping into you to meet how you bounce and grind down into Eddie, both of you wondering how this could feel so damn good.

"Fuck, you feel amazing." "You too, shit, you're so big" "You're so warm, you're perfect, I'm going to fuck this pussy any chance I get, fuck."

"Yes please, Yes please, Yes please"

You both start going faster, faster, faster until you were losing your rhythm and was obviously trying to hold out. "Babe I'm not going to last long if you keep riding me like an animal" "Me neither, I'm fuck so so so close, please please please"

Your pleads turn into a loss of breathe when your climax tips over you and crushes into you. You're seeing white light and stars until you feel nothing but warmth. Eddie's pumping into you one, two, three more times and then he releases himself. Thank gods you were on birth control. You two just sit there in bliss, ecstasy washed over both of you.

You slump down into his chest and he wraps his arms around you, hugging you into him. You both sit there holding each other as you're catching your breath.

Well, your first time together certainly was eventful.

"So wait.. should I wear shorts around you again or no?"

"If You deprive me of that simple joy and rightful access, I'll protest until the day you understand your ass is my new religion."

That has you laughing hard again, in the midst of your bodies sticking together. "But seriously, you do whatever you're most comfortable. But I wouldn't ever protest to be able to pay worship."

You smack him in the shoulder at that, but you were blushing none the less. You didn't know what you were going to do or how to thank him for looking at you that way. He still felt like he should be thanking you. The feelings were mutual.

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Author's Notes: oh heyyy so like literally all my other pieces, I have uh no fuckin clue where this came from but I definitely needed to share the thought with y'all. Hope you enjoy and if not, please just scroll! Let me know know if you liked it!