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reiderwriter · 5 months

Text

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???

Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.

A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭

Masterlist

You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.

If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.

Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.

You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.

You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.

You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.

You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.

None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.

And you really wanted to listen in.

The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.

Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.

A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.

With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.

The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.

Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.

He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.

Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

But he's trying his best to arrest me.”

The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”

The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.

You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.

A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.

After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.

By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.

So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

You're the ones who can do better tracking.”

You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.

That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.

You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.

Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.

“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”

“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”

“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”

They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.

“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.

“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.

“Spencer, wait-”

“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”

Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.

“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.

“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”

Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.

“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”

His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”

“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”

“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”

The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.

The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.

Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.

Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.

The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.

“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.

A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.

The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.

You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”

The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.

“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.

“When you find me there's lots for me to say,

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.

He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.

You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”

The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.

xxx

So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.

You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.

Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.

You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.

He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.

He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.

“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”

“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”

“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.

“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.

“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”

“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”

“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”

“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”

He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.

“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.

“As much as anyone does.”

“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.

“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.

“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”

“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”

For the first time in a while, you were speechless.

“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.

“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.

“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”

He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.

“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.

“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”

To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.

“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”

You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.

“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.

“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.

“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.

A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.

“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.

You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.

“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.

“No, you don't.”

“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”

“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”

“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”

“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”

He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.

“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”

He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”

“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.

“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.

“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”

Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.

“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”

“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”

“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”

“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”

You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.

He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.

It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.

“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”

“I'm driving you home.”

“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”

“What about friends?”

“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”

His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.

“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”

“What?”

“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.

“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”

“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.

“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.

He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.

The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”

“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”

You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.

“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.

“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”

The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.

He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.

“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.

“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”

“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”

He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.

“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.

“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”

“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.

It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.

When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.

“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

“And let you touch my things? No.”

You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.

“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.

“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.

“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.

“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”

You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.

He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.

You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.

“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”

“What's the difference?”

“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."

"And what would that be?"

"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.

“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.

“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”

His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.

“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”

You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.

“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”

With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.

The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.

His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.

“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.

With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer-”

“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”

“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.

“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.

“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.

Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.

“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”

His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.

“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”

“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.

“Say it.”

“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.

“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.

Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.

Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.

They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.

“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”

A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.

“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”

His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.

“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.

You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.

You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.

He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.

If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.

He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.

Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.

When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.

“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.

“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”

“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.

When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.

He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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the-faceless-bride · 6 months

Text

141 Neighbors imagine

The boys have been in a relationship for a long time. They've all taken a small break from the feiled after Johnny almost dying... they have been staying in a small and sweet place, a nice flat for them to share.

And while not out on the feiled, they still worked overtime. And weren't home often; and when they were, they always just got some takeaway and loved each other before going to work the next morning.

You had noticed this; You had lived in the flat adjacent to the four hunks. You lived alone in your cute, comfy flat with your cat "Binks,".

You didn't like that they lived off cheap takeaway and three hours of sleep at most. So you decided to be a kind neighbor and give them a good home cooked meal. You made extra for dinner that night, packaging the warm meal and leaving it at their door with a small and short note.

John slowly walks to the door after hearing the soft 'tap tap tap' outside his door. His hand rested on the gun on his hip in case things went south after opening the door.

But nobody was there, he looked down and saw a small basket and a note. "W'as tha?" Johnny asked, coming up behind his former captian; picking up the small basket and bringing it into his lovers home.

"Trying to be a friendly neighbor, I noticed all the takeaway, and I thought you'd all enjoy a nice meal," a short note and nothing more. John didn't trust it, showing it to Simon and Kyle, and Simon agreed. It was too suspicious, Kyle wanted to think maybe their was a kind soul, but knowing their line of work, he wasn't sure.

"I don' kno 'bout ye, but I t'ink this 's delicious." The three men looking to their other lover and to their shock and horror he was munching away on the mysterious meal. "JOHNNY," Simon yelled in disappointment and fear, "well, how are you feeling?" Kyle asked, unsure if this was 100% safe.

"Feel great," the Scott says before taking another spoon full. Kyle shrugs, and they all settle into a comfortable silence as they eat the dinner from their friendly neighbor.

This becomes a normal occurrence. They hear a rapping on their door, and when they open the door, there is a meal waiting, but nobody there.

They didn't know who their friendly neighbor was, but they were thankful for the warm meals. However, one day Johnny came home after a last-minute grocery run and spots you.

Placing the basket on their door quickly knocking before rushing to your door and shushing your fluffy cat as it meows at your feet. Johnny found you cute, and he knew his lovers would love to know you too.

Sorry for the poorly written and rushed little imagine, I'm very tired and I just wanted to write this down before I forgot about it. Maybe make this a real fic later, it'll be written way better I promise.

#taskforce 141 #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #cod imagine #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #kyle x reader #kyle x johnny #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #poly 141 x reader

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sinofwriting · 11 months

Text

Wait - Ollie Bearman

Words: 4,936 Summary: Ollie Bearman doesn’t wear necklaces, it’s just not his thing. So why during the 2023 Mexico GP is he spotted wearing a necklace with a familiar ring hanging from the chain Note(s)/Warning(s): This is in fact the purity ring fic. It’s a bit NSFW. Reader is Max Verstappen’s little sister. I nearly included lestappen because the idea of both Verstappen siblings dating a Ferrari (or Ferrari adjacent) driver was funny to me, but I didn’t. Also, thank you to all the people who told me to write this. I’m going to go somewhere, but I’m glad I did!

Masterlist | Support Me!

A ring sits on her finger. The same finger that will one day have an engagement ring then a wedding band to join. The band is thin with two knots and between both knots are four tiny pearls, barely the size of a grain of rice and in the middle of those four pearls is a mix of her birthstone and Max’s. She had gotten it when she was eleven shortly after she had heard Max joking with some of his friends about sex and she went to their mom asking what exactly they meant and for the past six years it had sat there.

It was the first big purchase Max had made with his F1 paycheck. The seventeen year old had felt ashamed and horrified at his baby sister overhearing the things him and friends were joking about. And even worse when their mom had to give her the talk. It had been nothing however compared to what their father had thought when learning of it. Max had swore his ears were ringing as Jos had yelled at him for first having his friends around her and second talking about sex when he knew that she was in the house and liked to randomly join them.

The ring had been a nice way to ease the tension and though he had been a bit red as he explained what it was to her, she had nodded along with his explanation, looking serious before putting it on and then smiling at him and hugging him.

At eleven it hadn’t really been an issue, wearing a purity ring, promising that she’d wait to be married before having sex. It hadn’t been a problem when she was fifteen and her first spike of hormones hit and suddenly sex wasn’t something that felt so far away or like a weird foreign concept. It hadn’t been a problem at sixteen either when she got her first boyfriend, who Max had quickly run off.

It had started to be a problem after she turned seventeen and got together with Ollie.

Ollie who she was never supposed to meet. Was only supposed to know of because she followed F2 and F3. But then she joined Max for the remainder of the 2022 season in July. Done with school and unsure if she wanted to go to Uni, unsure really of what she wanted to do.

She had planned to stay home with her mom, putter about the house, maybe do some small writing for Redline and Verstappen.com that she’d email to Kris, who would send her the money that they got paid for them instead of submitting them herself where Max would be sure to give her a stupid amount of money for something that took maybe thirty minutes to write.

But then Max had heard about her plans and she was officially employed by her brother. Managing his website, instagram, and Redline’s social media, going with him to every race, which meant that she had far too much free time and meant that she found herself following around Jack Crawford as he finished up his F3 season which meant running into Ollie Bearman.

Ollie, who was so unexpectedly sweet and cute, who made all the blood rush to her face as her heart worked overtime, made butterflies appear in her stomach.

It had been the second time that they saw each other that he had asked her on a date and now a year later, the two are now both eighteen and head over heels in love, and the ring that rests on her left ring finger feels more like a nuisance.

She had never had sex, hadn’t even really touched or been touched until Ollie but as the F2 season had grown to a close it felt like that was all that was on her mind and Ollie’s.

The kisses they shared when alone quickly grew into heated make out sessions and when they had time, they found themselves in his hotel room under the covers, underwear still on but hands exploring each other's bodies.

She falls in love with the pattern of freckles on his back and the way he shivers when she traces them with her fingers. The spot above his heart that always makes his breath hitch when she kisses it. His strong calves that always tense right after his thighs when she settles on his lap. His hands and how much bigger than hers they are. And his fingers that he lets her play with, kiss and nibble at just to see and hear the stuttered breath he gives as his cheeks turn red.

He falls in love with the small tattoo that still only he knows she has, it’s small enough to just barely be hidden by even her more risqué bikinis. The scar she has on her knee that makes her shiver when his fingers or lips touch it. The soft skin of the underside of her breasts, because it feels nice to stroke when he gets the chance to dip his hands underneath her bra. The moan she gives when he settles in between her thighs and rests his weight on top of her as they kiss.

Ollie knows what the ring is, what it means, what she promised Max. It’s the one thing that always reminds him to stop, that pulls him back when he’s about to dip his fingers beneath her underwear to feel her wetness against his fingers or about to ask her to take her bra off, to let him see more of her. The feeling of her ring always draws him back. Makes him refocus on just kissing her and not getting ahead of himself before he makes another mess of himself.

He sees it every time he sees her, he kisses it every time he lifts her hand to his lips, first kissing the ring, a silent promise to himself that one day he’ll replace it with a ring of his own, before kissing her hand.

So Ollie doesn’t think anything when he comes home from simulator work to his flat in Maranello smelling like brownies. It had taken a bit to convince Max that she didn’t want to go home but rather wanted to go on a little trip with her friends. She just neglected to mention that there was no trip, and by friends she meant boyfriend, and really she meant during the week break they’d have she’d be going to Italy to stay with Ollie.

“That smells so good.” Ollie groans, kicking his shoes off before moving further into the flat. She beams at him, accepting the kiss he presses to her cheek. “I know you had dinner there so I made brownies. And not a whole pan.” She adds. “I know you can’t indulge too much.” “Thank you.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back into him.

He starts to sway them both as he stares at the small pan of brownies, the smell of them mouthwatering.

“Can I have one?” “They like just got out of the oven.” He pouts, bending his neck and pressing his face into her neck. “Please?” “You're going to burn your fingers and mouth.” She laughs. “Pretty please?” He tries. She makes a humming noise, one he feels more than hears. “Only if you give me a kiss first.” “Deal.”

She giggles as he quickly turns her in his arms. “Hi.” She greets as she wraps her arms around his neck. “Hi.” He parrots back and the thought of the brownies are gone from his mind as he looks at her.

She’s got a piece of his merch on, one of the sample sweatshirts, but also a pair of his boxer briefs. It’s like she’s drowning in him and he just wants to add to it.

Pressing their lips together, he grunts when her nails dig lightly into the back of his neck.

“Sorry.” She murmurs against his lips. He shakes his head, “it’s fine.”

They stand there for a while just kissing, but then his hands are moving underneath the top she’s wearing, grasping at her hips before fingers trail up her sides before back down and she’s pulling him to his bedroom.

They’ve done this so much that it takes barely any time for him to take his FDA polo off and then his jeans before joining her in bed, settling between her thighs. It doesn’t however stop him from rocking his hips into hers a couple of times before he can stop himself, hunger only growing when her hips hitch upwards and she’s wrapping a leg around him, pulling him closer.

“Fuck, darling.” He gasps, pressing kisses to her exposed throat. She moans, her hands resting on his bare back and it’s the feeling of her ring that makes him stop. Hips nearly thrusting again when she whines, but he tenses his whole body, not letting it loosen even when he kisses her again, swallowing the next whine she lets out.

His right hand makes his way underneath her top as they continue to kiss, his body relaxing into hers as he gets control of himself again.

As his fingers creep up her side, he wonders what they’ll feel. The spandex of her sports bra? The cotton or whatever it is of the one bra she likes to wear to media days? Maybe lace? His mind spins at the last option and he gulps.

She’s only worn lace once and it was on their year anniversary, their first approved sleepover. Though Max had made sure to get her from his hotel room at 11 am. But he considers they have the rest of the week just them together and he doesn’t have to go into the factory anymore. And she made him brownies, homemade. He knows because of the way she had been standing at the kitchen counter, carefully looking at them. So, maybe another treat for him was her wearing lace.

But as fingers reach where he’d normally feel the edge of something there is nothing. He goes to frown but before he can, her chest rises, his fingers graze the underside of her left breast and his hips are snapping into her again.

“Oh my god.” She moans at the feeling. “Fuck.” He curses and he feels out of breath as he feels more of her. “You’re not,” he mutters. “You’re not wearing anything.” She shakes her head, bucking her hips wanting more friction. “Please, Ollie. Want more, want it off.” He should be saying no, he can already feel his control hanging by thread at the knowledge that she’s not wearing a bra, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he sees her boobs for the first time, but he’s backing away, letting her sit up, and she’s flinging his sweatshirt off.

His jaw drops at the sight, eyes wide and his dick twitches. He sees the way she bites at her lips, arms starting to come up and he’s quick to react. Fingers touching the soft skin, thumbs rubbing at her nipples as he sort of holds them.

“Pretty.” He manages to get out and feels himself blush. “Can we kiss again?” Ollie nods, eager.

He carefully lays next to her, drawing her on top of him, the two both gasping at the feeling of her bare breasts resting on his bare chest.

His hands dance up and down her back, sometimes his pinky fingers dipping below the waistband of his boxer briefs that she’s wearing before moving back up again as they kiss, hips still moving together.

When she shifts a little on top of him, moaning, he grasps at her hips, stopping her from moving as he feels himself twitch and he just knows that he has to be leaking, creating a wet spot in his underwear.

“We have to stop.” “I’m close though.” His head falls back and he groans. “I am too.” “I,” She stops, thinking of the lingerie she had brought with her, the dinner reservation she had made for herself and Ollie tomorrow night, the necklace chain also in her suitcase. “I want more.” She says, before taking a deep breath and meeting his eyes. “I want to have sex with you.” He’s looking at her wide eyes and she’d think that he didn’t want her back if she couldn’t feel how hard he was underneath her. “But,” his eyes dart to her left hand. “I thought we were waiting.” She feels blood rush to her cheeks at his whisper, at the promise he made for and to her.

She had been nervous when telling Ollie about her purity ring and about she would like to wait awhile, maybe even till marriage to have sex, especially after he shared that he had already had sex before. But he had been surprisingly okay with it after he had a few days to think and wrap his head around it, and not that she knew but to talk to his dad about it, before he came back said that he’d wait as long as she wanted.

“I mean, we did.” She whispers back. “I just, I think you’re the one, ya’know. And even if you aren’t, I can’t see myself ever regretting you.” There’s a stinging in his eyes and he clears his throat. “Okay.” He shifts her down a bit so he can sit up, pressing their lips together. “Okay.”

Her hands cup his cheeks as they kiss while his hands stay on her hips. Not moving or doing anything despite the fact that she’s given the all clear. It’s one of her hands dropping from his face to trail down his body, that makes his hands move, grabbing her ass, pressing her down and closer. It makes her gasp.

“Ollie.” He groans at the sound of her moaning his name. His eyes dart to his nightstand, where there should be some condoms in the drawer with lube as well and then he’s cursing, hands falling away from her. “We have to stop, darling. I’m sorry.” “But,” She shifts on top of him and he swears again when he looks down and sees a wet patch peeking out from where she’s sitting on top of him. “I know, but I don’t have any condoms.” He feels himself flush, “I threw them away after we got serious since I figured it wouldn’t happen for a few years.” “No.” She whines, heading dropping onto his shoulder as her whole body sags.

She hadn’t thought about buying condoms, mainly because despite the lingerie she packed and the dinner reservation, she hadn’t actually planned on them having sex. She just wanted more, even some dry humping or at the very least to feel fingers against her that weren’t her own.

“I could pull out.” The words are weak to his own ears. She lifts her head slightly to look at him. “Do you really think you could?” “I could run and get some condoms.” He really doesn’t feel like getting back in the car, doesn’t feel like leaving her, but he’d do it. "No,” she shakes her head. She didn’t like the idea of being alone, waiting for him to come back with condoms. Or him putting clothes back on, the idea makes her nose wrinkle. She then pauses as something comes to mind. “How’s your Italian?” His brows furrow at the question. “It’s decent. Basic and more strategy and car related. But I get by, why?” “I was thinking of Plan B.” “Plan B?” His brows furrow more before it clicks and his eyes widen, “oh, Plan B.” “Yeah, I’d still want it even if you do end up pulling out, but I don’t think that will happen.” He wants to protest, deny, argue that he absolutely could pull out, but it’d be a lie.

“Ollie.” She whines nearly an hour later as he tries to get her to separate her thighs. “You’re all sticky.” He tells her. “I need to clean you up before it dries.” And god was it a bitch to clean up dried cum. “I’ll be quick.” He promises. She pouts, but lets her thighs fall apart, wincing at the burning muscles. He swallows at the sight of their mixed release. He hadn’t managed to pull out the first time, but the second he had managed to, only to finish practically in her anyways. And it was worse because of her own two orgasms that added to the mess. Taking the damp cloth, he carefully cleans her up, apologizing when she whines when he presses a bit too much on her clit.

“Much better.” He grins, when he’s done. Throwing the cloth in the direction of his laundry hamper. “Cuddle?” She asks, making grabby hands at him and eagerly joins her again in bed, slipping the covers over both of them. “That’s better.” She mumbles, when they settle together and he laughs, pressing a kiss to her head.

It’s hard for him to leave when he wakes up in the morning. They’re still both naked and she’s sleeping peacefully beside him. But he’d rather go and get her the Plan B now, then put it off until later when she’ll be fully awake.

Rolling to his side, he presses a series of light kisses to her face. She mumbles a bit and he chuckles. “I’ve got to go, darling.” She mumbles again, turning to lay on her side as well. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be right back.” “Where are you going?” Her voice is low, thick with sleep. “I need to get some things real quickly. I’ll be back in thirty minutes, okay?” “Do you have to?” She pouts. “I’ll be quick.” He promises, bending to kiss her.

It takes him barely any time to get the Plan B and condoms, though he had stumbled his way through Italian to get the Plan B before just pulling up a picture of it.

“Darling?” He calls when he gets back. “Kitchen.” She calls back, a hint of sleep still in her voice. With the bag hanging from his finger, he walks to the kitchen. “I got you plan b and condoms for me, just in case.” “No, just in case. I’d like a repeat.” He grins at her, setting the bag on the counter. “Yeah?” She nods, bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah.” Bending, he captures her lips in a quick kiss, humming.

“Want to do brownies for breakfast?” His eyes widen and they dart to the counter. “I completely forgot you even made those!” “I’ll take that a yes?” “Please!”

Cutting him a piece and then one of herself, she puts them on a plate as Ollie gets them both something to drink before they both go to the living room and sit on the couch.

“These are so good.” He mumbles, catching a crumb before it can fall. “You say that everytime.” “Because it’s true! These are really good.” Her brownie was a good bit smaller than his so as soon as she finishes her, she’s standing up and retrieving something from her suitcase, ignoring him asking where she’s going.

Sitting back down, she places a box in his lap.

“What is this?” He asks, setting the plate on the coffee table, only a few crumbs on it. “I bought it for you a while ago and have been carrying it around since, just wasn’t sure when exactly I’d give it to you.” He looks at her intrigued, before looking back at the box and carefully opening it.

Ollie’s brows furrow at the thin chain that rests inside. It was nice, very nice, though not by a brand that he recognized. It was also a weird gift considering he didn’t wear necklaces, though if he was going to wear one, it would be this one.

“What’s it for?” He asks. “I, uh,” she stutters a bit over her words, playing her ring before carefully pulling it off, flexing her fingers at the odd sensation of it not being there. “It’s for this.” And she drops the ring she’s worn since she was eleven into his palm. “But this is yours.” “And I can’t wear it anymore.” She tells him. “I intended to wait longer to have sex, but I don’t regret last night and I won’t regret anything we do in the future. It’s yours now and I kind of liked the idea of you carrying it with you wherever you go.” He stares at the ring, tries to ignore the pulse of want and smugness, because he got to have her first and he was fairly certain he’d be her only and last.

Lifting the chain out of the box, he carefully unclasps it, threading the ring on, before clasping it around his neck, the ring resting just below the hollow of his neck, easily hidden behind any shirt he wears if he has it tucked in.

Turning his neck, the sensation of something there is odd and he says that. “It’ll take some getting used to, but I like it.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

It doesn’t take him long to get used to the necklace and he practically never takes it off, only in the shower or when doing certain training sessions and it hasn't happened yet but when he has to get into the F1 car and then his F2 car, he’ll be taking it off then as well.

No one really notices his new accessory, he’s not doing much on social media, his mum and dad had asked him about it and he had flushed but just said that it was something she had gotten for him and lucky they didn’t press for more. It gives a false sense of security that comes crashing down in Mexico.

He’s on a bit of a high for doing his first free practice and not placing dead last even though it’s only free practice and placing doesn’t really matter. He’s out of his race suit, having been able to not shower but wipe himself down with a damp towel before getting back into the Haas polo and jumping in to do more media. And as he does some interviews he doesn’t notice the way her ring that’s kept underneath his shirt is on full display.

But it does come to his attention when he finally gets his phone and sees so many mentions and a strange text full of exclamation marks that has him quickly hitting the call button.

“Is everything okay? I got a weird text from you.” “Ollie.” “What’s wrong?” He’s about to exit the Haas hospitality, he could be at Red Bull’s in about a minute at the strained sound of her voice. “My ring, everyone saw my ring.” His eyes widen and he’s cursing. “Oh no.” “Yeah.” “And they all know.” “Yeah.” She confirms again. “Because Max had to make it clear what the ring was.” She laughs, but it’s clear that she’s on the verge of tears, her voice tight. The sound has him wanting to wrap in his arms, shield her away, but it also has him confused. She never cared about what fans thought of her. She was very much like her brother in that matter. It was all water off a duck’s back. “What’s wrong, darling?” He asks, dropping his voice as someone looks at him weirdly. “I just, Max hadn’t noticed, no one has really. And I don’t regret it Ollie, but that was a promise I made to Max, to save myself.” The last three words come out as a whisper. “And now he’s going to find out because the whole of F1 twitter is talking about it. I should’ve told him.” “It’ll be okay.” He reassures her, but now the realization has hit that he’s going to have deal with Max and not just Max, but Daniel and Charles and fucking Arthur, which is a bit insulting because it’s Arthur of all people, but the Leclerc’s liked her a lot, Charles liked to argue with Max that she was actually their younger sister and not Max’s, which lead to a headache of bickering between the two drivers.

“Can I come to you?” He looks down at his watch even though he knows that he doesn’t have any more interviews, just needs to stay to watch the last session play out since he already did his debriefing as well. “Yeah, do you want me to walk you over?” “No, I’ll be there in a second.”

Meeting her at the doors of the hospitality, he quickly ushers her in before leading her to a back corner, the both of them sinking to the floor, somewhat hidden from view by a couch.

“You alright?” “Yeah.” She breathes, pressing close to him. “I just should’ve said something to Max. I just didn’t want to say anything y’know?” And he can feel her nose wrinkle at the idea and his does the same. Because yeah it was a bit gross to think about telling your sibling that you’ve had sex just so they won’t be blindsided by the media. “He’s gonna hate me again.” She doesn’t say anything and he groans, throwing his head back against the wall. “I just made some progress with him.” “I know, bear.” She murmurs, kissing his cheek. “I could put it back on? Say that I gave it to you as a good luck charm.”

It’s a good idea, a perfect solution for their problem, but it’s clear that she doesn’t like the idea and he doesn’t like the idea either. He’s grown used to the small weight of the ring resting below the hollow of his throat and he’s not fond of the idea of seeing a ring that’s not his on her ring finger again.

“Maybe I should propose.” She jerks away from him like she’s been burned. “Fuck, that’s not what I meant.” He quickly says. “I just I don’t want to give it back. I don't want to see you wearing it again and I just,” he waves his hands around. “My brain was running. I’m sorry.” Her eyes are focused on his and she slowly presses back into him, though she keeps her head pulled back so they can look at each other. “Is that something you really want in the future? To be married to me?” “One hundred percent.” She blinks at the quick response, a smile starting to bloom on her face. “Not now, just because I don’t want to rely on nothing but sponsors and my dad for money, but maybe once I got an F1 seat and then got a contract extension or new seat. I’d have money to help support us, to buy you a nice ring, house.” He hopes that she can’t tell how much he’s thought about this, how much he’s rambled to both Jak and Fred about this even though if either of them got the chance they’d happily rat him out for being such a preteen girl, and he just knows that Jak told Fred what that means. “I want that too.”

Ollie wonders if him intending on marrying her, on putting a ring on her finger will lessen the brunt of anger he’s sure to receive and it doesn’t.

“You defiled my sister!” The eighteen years old both make a face at the Dutch man’s words. “No one defiled anyone.” Max ignores her, glaring at the British driver. “You touched her.” Ollie nearly reaches out for her hand, but keeps his hands to himself, as he gives a tiny nod. “Max, it’s alright. I wanted it.” Max and Daniel both make a face at her words. “Ew. You shouldn’t even know what it is.” “Well, Max kind of ruined that for me when I was eleven.” She snarks and her brother flushes. “Which is why I gave you the ring! You were supposed to save yourself for marriage! Keep yourself away from boys like Ollie!” “What’s wrong with me?” He asks, offended. “You’re a teenager.” Daniel tells him with a shrug. “And you’ve got a dick. That’s all it really takes.”

“What happened to waiting?” Max asks, voice a little quieter as he looks at her. “Max,” she starts and then includes the Alpha Tauri driver who’s inched closer. “Daniel. I thought I was going to wait for marriage, or at least a few more years, but Ollie,” she pauses, feeling blood rush to her cheeks. “Ollie feels like the one.” She reaches out for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “And even if he isn’t, I won’t regret what we did.”

The two older men stare at her, at them. One who can remember holding her just hours after she was born, and the other who got to know her shortly after Max’s fuck up when she was eleven. Both her brothers, one just a bit longer than the other.

Max swallows harshly, the full realization hitting him that his baby sister isn’t a baby anymore. She’s an adult and he’s never really had the right to get mad at her for things she does but he really doesn’t now. He can feel Daniel standing behind him, and knows that the older man will go with him whatever way he chooses.

Stepping forward, he pulls her into a hug and wonders where the time has gone. “As long as you don’t regret it, yeah?” She hugs him back tighter, tension in her shoulders loosening at his acceptance. “Yeah. Love you, Maxy.” He laughs, a quiet thing. “Love you too.”

@arshiyuh @mangotaitai @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @benstormy

#ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x reader #f2 x reader #f2 imagine #formula 2 imagine #formula 2 x reader #oliver bearman x reader #oliver bearman imagine #sins fics

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cdbabymp3 · 7 months

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can u write something about hamzah being nervy for his first time w u cus he’s a virgin 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i’d actually go insane

𐙚the first time ― hamzahthefantastic

notes/warnings: nsfw !! reader is slightly more experienced than hamzah this might be the first and last time i write a full length fic for this acc i went through every stage of grief making this

it started super innocent. a couple kisses exchanged in the kitchen while making dinner together. you guys had decided to have a little fancy date night at home, since it was pouring rain outside. hamzah lit candles and everything. while eating dinner, you can feel his energy radiate off of him, like he's longing for something but won't quite say what. usually he's pretty straightforward with his feelings, hating to beat around the bush, but right now... this was not the case.

"is everything alright?" you ask softly, as he gets up to clear your empty plates

he places the plates in the sink, looking up at you, "uh, yeah? why? does it seem like something's up?' he speaks a mile a minute, now clumsily rinsing the dirty dishes

"well, no. i don't know, you just seem like there's something on your mind." you further, he keeps his gaze down at the dishes, scrubbing and rinsing far more than what's needed. is he stalling?

"nah, i'm fine, don't worry." he lies poorly, grabbing a rag and starting to dry the plates. his eyes are still failing to meet yours, a tell-tale sign he's not being honest.

dating for 4 months, intimacy and sex was a topic hamzah always found a way to tip toe around. yes, you guys have talked about sex before, but it was never in a serious way. he would always make a joke to the only way you even found out about his lack of experience was during a drunken night, trying to get him into bed to sleep.

"wait, hold up-i've never done this before, i've never done this before, i've never done this before... y/n wait...." he slurred out, delirious laughter quickly turning into panicked muttering

the memory burns in the back of your mind, even more so because he hasn't brought up that night since, nor do you think he even remembers.

he's still drying an already-dry-plate with so much force, that the plate dwindles nearly in and out of his grip. he bites the inside of his cheek, eyes narrow. something's festering, it's so plain to see.

"are you sure? because you can tell me if it's-"

before you could get another word out, the plate he was holding slips out of his hand, hitting the kitchen floor and breaking into a million pieces.

"fuck." he sighs, throwing the rag into the sink angrily and puts a hand over his eyes

you step over to him slowly, trying to avoid the ceramic shards on the floor.

"hamzah-"

"no, don't come over here. let me clean it up first." he removes the hand from his eyes, revealing you standing a foot away with a hand extended towards him to reach for. he thinks on it for a moment, but takes it, walking out of the kitchen and into your embrace.

"what's going on, hm?" you rub his back, trying to calm him down

"it's so fucking embarrassing, y/n, trust me. i can't even say it out loud." he mumbles, releasing himself from the hug and taking a seat on the couch

you follow him, sitting in the adjacent chair. waiting patiently for him to speak, you give him a reassuring smile. it's silent for so long and at this point, you start to catch onto what has him so distraught; the only milestone in your relationship that's been left unconquered. you can practically see the cogs in his brain turning and processing how he wants to go about telling you this information. to save him from his spiraling, you decide to intervene. "you know i don't care, right?" vague enough not to scare him from the topic, but hopefully enough to allude to what he's trying to say.

"care about what?" he frowns, head titled

"remember that night when you got really drunk and i had to drive us home? and you were super delirious, so i had to help you get ready for bed?" he simply nods, still not seeing where you're going with this. "well-um, when i was helping you change out of your clothes and get into bed, you kept repeating 'i've never done this before' over and over again. i didn't want to assume you meant it that way, but..."

he now puts not one, but both hands over his eyes, sheer humiliation hits him like a 50-foot wave. "oh my fucking god, that's so embarrassing."

"what- no, no, no. it's okay, trust me. it's okay, hamzah, seriously."

he hunches over so his elbows rest on his knees, face in his palms, as he's trying to process this. "i-wow... you knew this whole time too, that's crazy." still reeling, he laughs nervously.

"hamzah, it literally changes nothing for me. i just want you to feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it." you get up and sit next to him, putting a hand on his thigh for comfort.

"i know, i know. i was gonna say something tonight," he lifts his face from his hands, "that's why i was so wound up, i think...nerves, you know?"

"yeah, i understand."

"i feel really guilty sometimes... like, that we haven't done anything. i don't want you to think that it's because i don't want to- i do, i really do. i don't know why, but i get so nervous anytime we're in the moment and it could happen. i always chicken out. i just want it to be good for you..."

your heart melts at his confession. "hey, no, don't feel guilty. i'm willing to wait. whenever you're ready, i'm ready." your hand leaves his thigh and rubs his back the way he likes. he snickers and your hand pauses. "what?"

"that's what i was gonna talk to you about; whether or not you wanted to, um...tonight?"

"oh! i-"

"i mean, if you don't want to, we don't have to. i thought that it seemed like a good night since it's just us and the rain outside is honestly kinda romantic, i don't know, maybe i-"

you put a hand over his mouth and you can feel him smile against your palm. "you're overthinking this."

"i-" his voice is muffled against your hand, so he lightly takes your wrist and removes it. "i'm overthinking, but also have no idea what the fuck to do. i mean-i know 'what to do' in a biological sense, but like-" he catches himself in the middle of another ramble and nods knowingly, shaping his lips into a thin line.

"we can take it slow, yeah? just breathe..." you whisper, the hand that was once placed on his back slithering to the back of his head, causing him to turn his face to you.

"okay." he matches your tender volume, allowing his body to relax with a long exhale

you wait for all the air to peacefully leave his lungs before grabbing his hand and getting up. it takes him a second, but he obliges as you lead him into his bedroom. you give him a quick kiss, crawling onto the bed as he follows suit.

"c'mere" you coo

he can't hide the excitement on his face, getting on the bed with urgency and positioning his frame above yours. you wrap your hands around the back of his head and engulf him in a heated kiss. one arm stabilizes him above you, while the other holds your hip. this he's done with you before, this was his comfort zone. what comes next is new and surprises you. his hand glides from your hip, up your torso to your right boob, giving it a squeeze over your shirt. a pleased sigh gets caught in your throat and you feel his hand hesitate, so you put a hand on top of his to continue. it's funny because you can tell he does actually know what to do, but it's obvious that doing with an actual person is throwing him off a little. after a moment or two, he moves on to your other boob, giving it equal attention. you start to play with the hem of his shirt, which he's quick to notice and pulls off. his lips connect with your neck this time and the contact makes your stomach feel incredibly warm. his position in between your legs gives you easy access to his toned chest and torso, so you slide your hands from his collarbones down to right before the waistline of his pants as he continues to his ministrations on your neck. this earns a low hum from him, the vibration of the sound against your neck makes you giggle. he giggles too, happy that some of his nervous tension is being relieved. some minutes pass and you feel what will be a generously sized hickey tomorrow morning planted just below your jaw as hamzah's mouth leaves the skin to breathe.

"um... i should probably get you out of these." his fingertips ghost under the band of your midi skirt and underwear, to which you nod more desperate than you mean to. he cracks his famous grin before sliding the skirt down your legs. once it reaches your ankles you kick it off. he looks down at your black, lacy underwear and blinks slowly. in this brief pause, you take the liberty to peel off your top. to hamzah's delight, your bra matches your underwear with a pink bow in the center.

"you're so cute" he beams, kissing your lips, mouth then heading down between your cleavage to your navel. he leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses until he reaches the thin line of your underwear, giving your clothed-clit a sweet kiss.

"mmh" your hips jerk up involuntarily

"yeah? that good, baby?" he asks genuinely, his innocent voice starkly contrasting how his fingers loop around your underwear and drag them down your thighs. feeling your underwear completely off, you sit up to rid yourself of your bra but he clicks his tongue. "i got it."

"oh, you got it?" you tease and he rolls his eyes

"shh" he pulls one of the straps down your shoulder, enough to kiss where it previously was before reaching behind and undoing the clasps swiftly. the garment slips down your arms and he catches it, tossing it alongside the rest of your discarded clothes. "jesus..." his eyes widen, your bare chest on full display for him. he leans down, about to take a nipple to into his mouth when you place a hand on his cheek to stop him. "wh-do you not want me to do that?"

"no, baby, it's not that. it's just-" you take his hand and guide it down to your core, allowing his fingertips to brush past your wetness.

he raises his eyebrows at the feeling, getting your not-so-subtle hint. "oh...i-okay, you're, like, ready, huh?" his voice quivers, a rhetorical question but it's so endearing. "here-uh, lemme get a condom." he leans and extends an arm across you to his bedside table. nervously fumbling with the drawer, he grabs the packet and situates himself back between your legs. in the same position as before, one arm holding himself up and the other putting the packet between his teeth to open, you put a hand on his arm and laugh.

"hamzah, your pants."

"oh, shit, i forgot. hold up," he says, the condom packet still between his teeth as unbuttons his pants and slides them off along his underwear in no time. you can tell by the look on his face, he's getting shy, so you let him do things at the pace he wants. you swear you blink and he's already rolled the condom onto himself, positioning his body inches from where you need him. he looks conflicted, so you cup his face to let him know you're here. "i was already a nervous wreck before, but it just hit me now even more..." he confesses just above a whisper, his cheek feels hot with self-consciousness as you caress it

"do you want some help?" you offer and his eyes soften, visibly grateful that he didn't have to verbally ask you.

"sorry." he apologizes

"no it's okay, baby, here-" you put a hand on top of the one that he holds himself with and move him closer and closer to your entrance. his tip makes contact and you bite your lip, moving him along your arousal to lessen the pain you assume will come based on how sizable he feels. "i'm gonna go slow, okay? it's been a while since i last did this..." you admit, carefully pulling his hand so that his tip only makes it past your folds. his chest starts to rise and fall, his glued to yours and not daring to leave.

"y/n..." he moans, feeling himself finally enter you

the stretch alone has you grabbing for his bicep, mouth open in shock. "fuck" you gasp, trying to adjust to his size.

his eyes scan yours, seeing your discomfort bubbling. "should i stop? am i hurting you, baby?" he starts to panic

"no, i'm okay, just keep going. you can m-move now, if you want." you pant out eagerly and he does as told, pulling back, but not out and thrusting back in nice and slow. he starts to find a rhythm and repeats this at the perfect cadence.

"there you go, you got it-ah" you praise him, which only works him up more, rutting into you now with more haste than ever; he's finally getting comfortable. your nails drag down his broad back, making him whine into your neck, hitting a spot inside you no one's hit before. he knows way more than he thinks. you can feel him start to chase his release, twitching as his sounds start to rise in pitch.

"baby, i think i'm gonna-fuck!" his hips snap and stagger with one final thrust, the coil in his stomach snapping vigorously. his high leaves him trembling above you, barely able to hold up his weight.

"virgin no more" you whisper dramatically, brushing his black curls out of his eyes, a sheer layer of sweat making them stick to his skin a bit.

"b-but you didn't cum... i came in like fucking 3 minutes and you didn't-"

you interrupt him with a kiss, different than the ones you were sharing moments ago. this one held something more than lust or desire.

"i don't care, i'm proud of you." you rest a thumb on his full bottom lip, toying with it. "plus, it was your first time, not your last. you can make it up to me."

so fucking anxious to post this 🥸 yes there will be a pt.2! idk when quite yet bc i'm gonna need a couple days to recover from this

send in hc requests !!! i enjoy writing those a lot and can get them done quicker <333

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @junebugin-july , @itgirlvirgo (lmk if u wanna be added !!!)

#jules speaks !! 🐻ིྀ #hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzahthefantastic imagines #hamzahthefantastic x you #hamzahthefantastic headcannons #slushy noobz #cdbabymp3

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bunnys-kisses · 14 days

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hi bunny!! please may i order swiss roll with a side of tonic water and mocha coffee served by fernando? and please make it spicy!! 🤍

bakery menu

orders are still open! hit me up! i've been writing a lot more and i love creating these little pieces for you! thank you to all who have submitted, i am working tirelessly to get through all of them! so thank you! from this lovely anon, thank you! i love a good fernando alonso fic in my inbox, fans of his always have the most interesting orders, haha! especially with the swiss roll prompt! wow!

swiss roll ("everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you.") + tonic water (age gap) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by fernando alonso (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, age gap (20s/40s), sugar daddy-adjacent, mentions of children & pregnancy, alonso likes having power over you, slight baby trapping, sub/dom

when your university friends told you getting involved a man almost double your age was a bad idea, you simply scoffed it off. in a bit of fairness you had little dollar signs in your eyes when fernando first started to spoil you. his praise was a fountain that kept you full.

but everything came with a price tag, pequeña paloma and after three years of messing around, fernando expected a return on investment.

"you know, you're getting up their in age, alonso." he heard over dinner. it made the man laugh against his wine glass with his other hand on your lower back. your shifted a little in your seat and kept your focus on the conversation.

the same member of the team added, "it's about time you had kids, no? you can't keep racing forever. if you start now you can have the kid in racing before you know it."

you looked away briefly and tried not to blush too hard. you had been out of university for a month for summer vacation and now they were talking about children? but your fernando just laughed and said, "well, i guess we aren't getting younger. right, dove?"

he pulled you a little closer to him and rubbed your shoulder, he looked at you. those dark eyes pulled you in as always. it made you rub your thighs together with a throb that he had trained you to feel whenever he was somewhat domineering.

you nodded and giggled a little, "well you aren't." then giggled when your much older boyfriend pulled you close. he kissed you on the head and you felt his warmth. he then turned back to the team member and flashed him a grin.

it was a return on investment. fernando alonso gets involved with a pretty young thing from a pretty little private university, spoils her and gives her the attention her daddy won't. then have her get all soft with his child and be a good mother to them.

and that was what happened when you got back to your room for the night. his broad hands on your shoulders as he bent you over to touch your toes. just as he trained you, stretched you out nice a good, in more ways than one. he admired you for a moment with his stiff cock nudging against your backside.

"he was right, pequeña paloma. i'm not getting any younger. about time i have a child. and who else would i pick, but you. you're almost done school and now my live-in girlfriend. i feel like a baby would make it a home." he leaned over you and placed his large hands on your middle, "it's only fair you give me what i want. everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. i own those, so i guess that means i own you."

you nodded, "yes." and you felt something to twist in your gut before fernando made you stand up right once more. his hands on your breasts, groping them between his strong hands. you whimpered a little bit from the pain.

"that's what i like to hear." he said before he pulled back a little to undo the zipper of your dress. he didn't know why he was taking it off so delicately, you weren't going to be able to wear this form fitting number in a few months.

but don't worry, he'll get you something to show off that growing middle. once he got you in your bra and panties, you turned to face him. you looked at him and started to undo the buttons of his shirt. his hands were on your hips are you did your duty to get him undressed.

the liked the sight of you, submissive. so cute.

once you undressed him, you led him to the bed. you got up on it and crossed one leg over the other. fernando soon crowded your space and got you on the bed. laid out to perfection for him.

you said to him, "we don't have to make a baby now."

he looked at you and responded, "we have to. anything could happen tomorrow. i need to make sure that your sweet cunt is taken care of. bred to perfection." he said softly, his words left you feeling tingly all over.

you looked good under him as his eyes raked your naked body. pretty little thing. fernando's little investment. have a good place to keep his cum for years to come, but right now he wanted you to end up with a baby at your hip.

"you know you can't deny me, my love." he said softly, "you know you can't. you let me do whatever i want to you. just like your apartment, your bed, your services. i own it all, and you have to start repaying." he licked his lips and got between your legs.

you squirmed a little and held onto the soft white covers under you. fernando's cock twitched at full attention and he shifted his hips a little before he grabbed you by the legs and got them over his shoulders.

he pressed into you further, putting your knees to your chest and fully trapping you underneath. he said in a low tone, "you know how to be good for me. right? you know how to stay under me and let the man who owns you do what he pleases." he got his cock into with ease and watched your back arch.

such a beautiful sight, there was a large period of time where they weren't women like you. so willing to please a man like fernando, do anything to keep your man happy. and he in turn made sure you didn't want for anything. if him bruising your cervix means your silly little tution was covered then so be it. you just hoped that you didn't get pregnant before you finished your program.

it felt weird to have your knees so close to you while he rocked against you. his hands on either side of you as he dragged his cock in and out of you. at one point he only had the tip in before he quickly pushed it back in to the base. you felt the force of that in your chest as his cock explored your insides. you knew his cock was a cervix kisser and it was getting very familiar with yours.

a man almost double your age hitting the back of your pussy with everything he had. he was a man on a mission to make sure your cute little cunt stayed around his cock. barely touched a man before he met you, now he was promising filthy things to the woman who was going to give him the family he wanted. you'd fill out so nicely with pregnancy, a little thickness to your hips would make his cock leaky every time he saw you. he knew that you'd be kept busy with a little alonso baby toddling after you.

he eventually eventually got your ankles over his shoulders, helplessly rested against the strength of them. he groped at your breasts as he continued to fuck you. he watched your cute curves bounce with each thrust.

you whimpered, "please, frenando." your back arched a little from the intensity of his movements. how hard he gripped onto you as the bullies his cock into your sweet pussy. your heart hammered in your chest as he continued to move against you. your much older boyfriend was breeding you, he was fucking you nice and deep to make sure it all took.

if he was going to get you pregnant then he was going to go all out for it. hips tilted so gravity could work its magic and flood your pretty, younger pussy full of come. promise of a future together. don't worry, fernando would be an attentive father and he wouldn't stick you with two or more children. well, until he retires at least. then you're going back to his country with a big piece of land. and you'll be the perfect alonso wife. plus the kids to keep you busy, there won't be any time

so maybe the degree was a bad investment, you won't be able to use it for raising the little brats that you were going to have. but, he'd happily pay for a master's program if it meant that your cunt would be stained with a sheen of his cum across it. sticky dna up against the furthest parts of you thanks to your lover.

he continued to rut against you. his mouth was full of filthy promises as he moved up against you. your heart was hammering in your chest as you tried reach your climax. happily taking what fernando gave. you tried to shift a little but he pressed into your further. he kept you trapped under him as he felt his cock with in your sweet cunt. he knew he was could he could feel the heighten feeling around him. the thump of his heart as he had every intention to breed your sweet little sex.

"please. honey"

"i know, i've got you. you just let yourself finish. i'm right here. just like when i first made you come. you love this feling don't you. you want me all the time. that's why you're letting me finish inside of you. you want me."

you took him by the face and pulled him closer once more. you came around his cock with a noise leaving your chest. you felt hot all over, like a splash of pleasure through your system. your lover took you by the face and moved yoou into a searing kiss as he own pace started to stagger.

"honey."

"shh. i know, i know. i'm close." he really started to work your body was you laid there in a blessed out state. you looked beautiful even now, unaware of how quick fernando was fucking you. the bed squeaked under you two as the headboard rocked against the tacky wallpapered wall. a few more strokes and he finished inside of you with his hands on your hips. he had left pretty marks on your breasts and hips, a sign of his. as if the future child you'd carry wouldn't prove it.

you whimpered a little bit but fernando silenced you with a kiss. no need to be a whiny girl, you were supposed to behave for him. be on your plush behind and let him thrust up into you. watch those breasts bounce. but he didn't slow down once he came. instead he got you on your stomach and pressed his cock into you even further. the new angle had your toes curled.

his words were in you ears once more, it muddled your thoughts. all you could think about was your lover as you arched your back.

fernando alonso wasn't getting younger. so he was going to spend all his time making sure that you became the mother he knew you could be. <3

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missxwrites · 7 months

Text

new beginnings - tom kazansky

tom 'iceman' kazansky x reader

Summary: Tom finds his pregnant wife in the heart of their shared home, the sight of her simply takes his breath away. Word count: 1,120+ Warnings: fluuuufffff, SERIOUSLY FLUFFY SOFT TOM, pregnancy, afab!reader (still working on gender neutral tone as best I can), assumptions about size (I play into the plus size side of things because I am plus size, but there's no direct mention), no use of y/n (just she/her pronouns) A/N: This is only rough edited by myself, I'm so sorry for any mistakes. (Im rusty as f*ck at fic writing) I've had this fic in my back pocket for months, please enjoy all the fluff. I'm head over heels for val kilmer as a person, and I'm well aware that the gif is not from Top Gun... this is however an aged up version of Commander Kazansky (;

Tom wasn't typically a man of many words, even after Top Gun and becoming a commander... He was still on track to becoming an admiral in a couple years and his stoic ice-cold exterior has carried him far in the Navy. No, there wasn't much that could get in his way now.

Except for her.

She melted his every icy edge. Especially now that she's 7 months pregnant with his baby. The way she waddled around the sizable estate that he purchased the year they got married. It'd been nearly 7 years since that beautiful day, but Tom and his wife decided to focus on their separate careers before committing to living with little ones under foot. He was nearing his mid-to-late 30's now and with his career excelling, his mind constantly settled on imagining what her beautiful features would be like mixed with his.

Would they get his ice-like stare or her warm bright irises that see right through to his soul? Would they get his pin straight hair that stuck up in all the wrong places or her beautiful, textured hair that fell beautifully in every light?

His mind would run rampant every time he looked at her, his eyes never failing to trail up and down her whole figure. He would linger on her face, taking in how absolutely mesmerizing she was in the pregnancy glow before darting down to her ever-changing belly. It was very noticeable now, and the way she braced the underside of the bump softened his stare every time. Even through the literal growing pains of making a human, she looked ethereal. He subconsciously pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Tom was fully convinced that she could never be more beautiful than she was in this exact moment.

With a warm but soft chuckle under his breath, he stood slowly and made his way over to her. The book she'd been perusing at the kitchen counter happened to be a cookbook he got her for Christmas in the early years of their relationship. He'd assumed she must be craving something specific by the way she quickly flipped through the pages. He placed his hands over the tops of her shoulders, giving a gentle rub to the tense muscles in her shoulder blades and leaned in to kiss her neck. The smell of her conditioner and body wash from her shower this morning is almost intoxicating. His body was warm, causing her to lean back on his chest.

"You're absolutely radiant dear," Tom stated, a smile forming across his lips. "And absolutely distracting..." He hasn't been able to take his eyes off her since she entered the kitchen adjacent to the doors of his office. He'd been trying to get through some paperwork before finding her to ask what you might want for lunch as she graced her way into the heart of their shared home.

She was one of the only women that could ever truly take his breath away, though many tried. Even in a moment like this... with his wedding band heavy on her finger and growing the fruit of his love for her in her tummy, he still had to remind himself to breathe.

His large arms made their way down her body until they gently embraced her and her bump. He supported her belly gently, the same way the two had learned in the parenting classes Tom insisted on attending once she confirmed her pregnancy. The soft hum that escaped her throat told him that she needed this. Her eyes fluttered closed as he stood there, swaying gently with her in his arms.

“Blueberry.” Was the only thing that snapped the quiet of the moment between the two of them. Her words were soft in his ears. Tom raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he leaned forward to place his chin on her shoulder. The pages of the cookbook landed on a muffin recipe that had been dog-eared and made enough times to sport the stains of baking chaos.

Another low chuckle reverberated through his chest. “Cravings?” Tom placed another gentle kiss on her neck as he slowly released his childbearing wife to turn to the refrigerator behind him. This recipe was one he was familiar with, having made it several times over the years. He grabbed out the bowl of blueberries, buttermilk, butter and eggs while his wife gathered the remaining dry ingredients.

A quiet melodic sound filled the kitchen as Tom watched his wife pull up the large glass bowl from the cabinet. The smile spread across his face as he recognized their wedding song falling from her lips. “I wanna know what love is…”

Tom set the cold ingredients out on the counter, crossing the kitchen swiftly to pull her back into his arms. “I want you to show me…” He whispered to her, a hum parting his lips as he twirled her around slowly in the afternoon light of their kitchen. He mirrored her radiant smile as they slowly swayed together, her baby bump separating them a little more than usual but neither of them cared.

After enjoying the embrace of her husband, Tom’s wife pushed him away gently as she resumed making the muffins lil’ kazansky was craving so badly. The blonde commander only laughed as he kissed her hand before parting their embrace. He too busied himself making muffins again wordlessly as he reached into the bottom drawer of the oven. Grabbing out the old muffin tin, he paused to preheat the oven as he lingered there for a moment.

Tom’s hand immediately found his wife’s lower back as he brought the tin over to the island countertop, using the other to place the white liners in each cup. A devious giggle caught his attention and before he could even blink, she’d managed to touch his nose with a flour-covered hand. His steely eyes closed suddenly as she swiped at his face, unable to hide the slow grin that parted his lips as he dipped his own hand into the bowl of flour.

He laughed as he pulled her back from the counter slightly, his flour covered hand landing gently over the top of her baby bump. The white handprint was stark on her dark dress. The gasp that escaped from the woman in his arms only made him laugh harder as she rolled her eyes and shook her head at her husband’s antics.

"What am I going to do with you, Thomas Kazansky? ” She said exasperatedly despite a smile growing on her face.

“Love me.” He said simply, his eyes gazing deeply into hers as he pulled her in close again. “And make muffins with me forever.” She laughed, her heart full, as she accepted his proposal.

#tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x reader #iceman x reader #tom kazansky #tom iceman kazansky #iceman #top gun iceman #top gun #top gun maverick #tom kazansky x pregnant!reader #fluff #val kilmer #pregnant reader

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echobx · 4 months

Text

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

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart

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captainfern · 9 months

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UR NEW PRICE DRABBLE??? PRICE CALLING READER MAMA LORD 😫😫

(Need someone to write a fic w vocal!ghost and he calls u mama...)

that someone is me

18+, fem!reader, pregnancy+babies mention

you’d already given simon one child, sleeping soundly in his cot in the adjacent room, the baby-monitor on and so far peaceful. but did you really think simon wanted just one kid?

he’d make an entire army if you let him lol, but for now he’ll take it one step at a time. your health and safety is paramount, so however many babies you were willing to have was the amount he’d be absolutely smitten with.

and the two of you agreed on baby number two, meaning simon took his job very seriously— seriously in the fact he had you on your back, a couple of pillows propped up beneath your hips, rutting his cock into you until you were releasing a constant string of whimpers.

“that’s it, sweetheart, doing so well for me,” he praised quietly, large hands on your hips as he fucked you. his fingers traced the stretch marks along your skin, groaning at the sight of you beneath him. “my pretty wife…”

you moaned, trying to be quiet since your 8 month old son was resting in the next room. the loudest noises you were making was the slick, wet sounds of your cunt as simon rutted his cock into you deeply.

you clenched around him with each tap of his cockhead against your womb, and he groaned low in his throat. the girth of him stretched you open so well, and you could feel that one prominent vein on the underside of his dick dragging against you. his pelvis knocked against yours with each of his timed thrusts, and he took it upon himself to move one of his hands downward to place his thumb against your clit.

he rubbed neat circles, timed with his thrusting, watching with a glimmer in his eyes as you arched off the bed, whining. he smiled, moaning around it, watching away the soft curves of your body and your stretch marks shifted with your movement.

“you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he cooed, snapping his hips harder. you choked on a sweet moan of simon—! as he continued to hit your sweet spot with the leaking tip of his cock. he grunted when your cunt fluttered around him again, his stomach flipping and balls pulling tight as his orgasm drew nearer. he deepened the circles on your puffy clit. “my pretty wife. always so good for me.”

you whined, eyes rolling as the head of simon’s cock continued to bully up against the plug of your womb. his fingers on your clit sent static pleasure through your entire body, shaking beneath his large body, your own orgasm bubbling up inside you.

and it was much the same with your husband. the closer he got to coming, the more he thought about you pregnant again— swollen with his kid, a beautiful curved belly that he could splay his large hands across on the daily.

the thought had him moaning, snapping his hips harder against you, almost shunting you up the bed.

“that’s it, mama, good fucking girl,” he uttered, your pussy squeezing his cock again, pushing a deep moan from his chest. he fucked you with his mouth agape, the point of his tongue against his lower lip. “taking me so well in this tight— ah, fuck— tight pussy.”

you moaned, hands fisting the sheets beneath you, your orgasm building heavily in your lower tummy, sweat layering your lower back. finally, you came, clenching tightly around your husband’s cock and gushing around him, moaning another sickly-sweet simon! as you trembled beneath him.

simon groaned. “fuuuuck, that’s my girl. good girl, come ‘round my cock, just like that, fuck—”

he removed his thumb from your swollen clot, gripping both of your hips now as he slammed into you, orgasm clouding his mind and pulling almost painfully tight in his lower abdomen.

“m’gonna fill you up with my cum ‘til your leaking with it, yeah? might have to go plug you up with something to make sure it takes, hm?” he whispered to you, making you shiver and whimper. he smiled down at you. “yeah, make sure it takes, mama. make sure i fill this tight fucking pussy ‘til it takes. get you all fat with another kid.”

before either of you know it, he’s coming inside you, buried to the hilt with his hip flushed against yours. he moans loudly, body jerking against you as he emptied his cum against the base of your cervix, babbling into your ear and leaning over you to kiss every patch of exposed skin he could.

“f-fuck, so fucking good for me, mama, so fucking good. my good girl, my g-good girl. i love you so fucking much.”

#yeah #captainfern #captainfernsalutes #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut #call of duty #cod smut #ghost cod smut

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try-set-me-on-fire · 5 months

Note

brick BRICK please I AM ON MY KNEES i just saw the bucktommy MCD fic aldhslhdkalkabsk i know i KNOW you said you don’t have the time or purview to write it, but if you would find it within your heart to further read us into shreds in any way, shape, or form, i’d be eternally grateful

(only if you would like to, of course, and quite honestly, i’m not sure i’d be able to survive another drabble, let alone a fully fledged fic)

Alright okay I’m thinking about it too here’s a tiny thing mwah mwah

“It’s his birthday,” Buck says eventually, when the mug has stopped steaming entirely. It almost startles Eddie, the sudden sound in a quiet that felt so final. He turns off the sink, sets down the last of the dishes, joins Buck at the table. Buck’s thumb caresses up and down the side of the mug. When Eddie picks up his own, it's skin-warm. “I liked to… plan things, I like to be… organized.” A rueful smile that stops miles short of his eyes. “You’ve probably noticed at work. I’ve been told I can be a monster with a clipboard in hand.” His voice is steady enough that Eddie is pretty sure Tommy isn’t the one who ever did the telling. “And he was going to be 45 and feeling some kind of way about that so… So I, uh, had it planned already. Before- uh- b-before.”

Tommy Kinard has been dead for seven months. Eddie’s not sure he’s ever put that much forethought into anything. He enlisted after an afternoon chatting at a recruitment booth. He applied to the fire academy on impulse after he saw an ad online. “What were you…”

Buck sighs. “Camping. Up north. Rented one of those, you know, cute vintage RVs. We were going to stop a few places. Had the vacation time cleared and ready to go.” He grimaces, shrugs, his eyes wet again. “I never… canceled any of it. I probably could have got some refunds, but I just… it was too- I- I just couldn’t.” He coughs something adjacent to a laugh. “The… I picked mint green, like the toaster he- got it from his aunt, I think. Uh. For the RV. It’s probably sitting in a lot somewhere right now waiting for us.”

“Buck, I…” Eddie wants to reach out so bad his hand moves on its own accord, clumsy, catching on his mug and clattering the ceramic against the wood of the table. “If you wanted company you could have told me why, but also you- you didn’t have to come here. I-I’m sorry. I know how hard it can be to… to be around people, to talk to anybody when you’re feeling like… and special occasions just make it worse.”

Buck- laughs. A few soft snorts, through his nose, smile hitting a little closer to clear blue. “That’s the thing, Eddie. That’s the… I miss him like this every day. I wake up and- and there’s a moment before I roll over where I think- hope- what if when I turn he’ll be there smiling at me? I-I-I miss his smile so bad, I- I have pictures, t-there’s even video- our wedding- b-but- but it’s not the same-” He gasps, and his shoulders turn in again, all of him crumpling towards a center line as he covers his face with one hand, the other white knuckled around his mug. “Sorry. S-sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay, Buck.” Eddie’s hand is still hovering over the table, he’d never done anything with it after his failed reach. Close the gap. Just close the gap. He doesn’t.

Buck wipes his eyes, clears his throat, straightens up again. “Sorry. It’s… it’s just a day. They’re all- they’re all going to be like this. He’s not going to be in any of them. So I just have to- I’m just going to keep going.” Another smile, still wet and wretched but genuine anyways. “Besides, I told Chris I’d be here to help. Not a promise I’m interested in breaking.”

Eddie nods, biting his tongue against the sting in his own eyes that he’s not even entirely sure the cause of. “Well, thank god. I flunked freshman bio.”

Tea sloshes over Buck’s hand with how hard his laugh rattles through him. Eddie jumps up to get a towel, and when he goes to hand it over he gets caught frozen for a moment by Buck’s amused eye contact. “Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“I had a C+ average.”

Eddie’s not sure how they manage not to spill the rest of the mug in the outburst that follows, but it stays stubbornly upright as their laughter bounces around the kitchen cabinets, mixing together, filling the room. When Buck smiles up at him again it looks just a little easier, and Eddie thinks- he thinks he’d do a lot to make Buck’s life easy. He shakes out the towel and cleans up the tea.

#mcd #major character death #buck x tommy #my writing #buddie #the seconds ticking killed us all a million years before the fall

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the-anxious-youth · 1 year

Text

Bubbles II

Pairing: Buggy x gn!Reader

Summary: Now that Buggy has agreed to help you find Nami, the two of you get closer, and shenanigans ensue.

Warnings: none, general flirting but nothing too spicy, the reader is written as gender neutral but Buggy does call them pretty, some talks of insecurity but it's more comfort than hurt

Word Count: 4.7K

Author's Note: Here's the highly anticipated part two of my Buggy fic! He's quickly become one of my comfort characters so writing about him has been fun. Also, I made some major changes to the plot in regards to rescuing Nami because I felt I couldn't do it justice since I haven't seen episode 7 yet and didn't want to mess up such an emotional scene. Thank you for being so patient and I hope you enjoy! (Up next is a Shanks fic, so keep on the lookout for that) banners by cafekitsune

Part 1

Luffy’s eyes brightened when he saw you, a cheerful aura surrounding your captain. His smile triggers your own, and you walk up to him, holding Buggy in your hands. Luffy looks down at the clown’s head, and his smile grows even wider.

“Did you give him a makeover? It looks great, Y/N!” says the enthusiastic man, always in a good mood. You chuckle and nod in response, thanking him softly. Out of everyone in the crew, Luffy had always been the most supportive and you’re glad his reaction was the polar opposite of Zoro’s.

“Good news, I got him to tell me how to get to Arlong Park so we can rescue Nami!” Your tone is cheerful, and your Captain’s face reflects how you feel.

“Really? That’s awesome! How’d you do it?” Luffy leans against the side of the boat, visibly impressed by the way you’d been able to tame the beast, considering that a few hours ago, they all thought they’d have to torture it out of him. Looking down at Buggy, you smile softly, debating on whether or not you should tell the whole story. Before you can answer, Buggy lets out a laugh and responds for you.

“Guess I just have a soft spot for them,” he says, sending a wink in your direction. By now his flirtatious confidence is fully restored. Luffy watches the two of you making eyes at each other for a few seconds, before breaking the silence.

“Well, I’m glad you worked it out.” Luffy notices how your eyes sparkle when looking at Buggy, but he decides not to comment on it, instead moving to pull out a map. Spreading it across a table, he gestures for you to come closer.

“So this is where we are right now, approximately.” Your captain points to a spot on the map, and you recognize it as part of the East Blue. You gently place the clown’s head on the table, allowing him to look at the map. “And this is where we think Nami is,” utters Luffy, pointing his finger to an area adjacent to where he said you all are.

“You’re heading in the wrong direction, pal.” Buggy chuckles as he says this, not surprised that your crew wasn’t good with directions. After all, Nami was the navigator, the impact of her absence being very visible. Not waiting to hear what Luffy has to say, the clown continues.

“Arlong Park is on the other side of the East Blue, next to Cocoyasi Village, which is along the coastline.” Since he doesn’t have hands, he tilts his head to gesture towards the location of your desired destination. Your captain nods with a smile.

“I think I know where that is. See, was that so hard?” Luffy says teasingly, looking down at Buggy with a cheeky smile. The clown just glares in return, his smile not reappearing until you gently pick him up in your hands.

“Need me to go tell the others or do you want to do it?” You ask softly. Luffy smiles at you before responding.

“I’ve got it. I am the Captain after all.” He says cockily, though you know he means no harm. You chuckle and nod, finding his happy mood contagious.

“Yes, you are.” He pats you on the shoulder before heading off to inform the rest of the crew of the new developments. You look down at Buggy, his amorous grin causing the heat to rise to your face.

“Now what, sweetness?” He says, his tone smooth. Cocking your head at him, you hum while thinking.

“How about some food? I’m getting pretty hungry and I bet you are too.” You smile at him softly, to which he admires your face.

“You have no idea,” the clown mutters, excited at the prospect of food. Carrying him in your arms, you head to the kitchen, which incidentally is where the rest of the crew seems to be chatting.

As you walk into the room, everyone turns to look at you. Luffy smiles at you gently, Zoro’s face is humorless, and it seems like he’s still irritated about earlier, Sanji’s eyebrows furrow, confused to see you so happy with the clown, and Usopp wears a look of amusement as if he’s just along for the ride. For a moment, everything is quiet, before you decide to walk over to the pantry to find something to eat. Snapping out of his daze, Sanji walks over to you, the others resuming their discussion.

“What can I get for you, dear?” says the cook, gazing at you with a suave smile.

“Just a snack please, enough for two.” Your tone is soft, and you don't miss the look of surprise on Sanji’s face when he understands what you are referring to. You don’t notice it, but Buggy’s face is smug, enjoying watching the other man squirm. Sanji is silent for a moment, his face turning concerned.

“You do know he’s a bad guy, right? Remember what he did to that town?” asks the chef, leaning closer to you, to which Buggy scoffs.

“Lighten up, blondie, you weren’t even there.” Spits out the clown. His tone reads annoyance, not wanting the chef to impact your view of him. Sanji glares down at the head, crossing his arms.

“Yes, I remember. I just figure you get further with people using kindness.” Sanji’s eyes soften at your words, internally reminding himself that this is just who you are. He sighs, before meeting your gaze.

“Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting taken advantage of,” he says softly, and you smile at his words in an attempt to comfort him.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” Chuckling softly at the blonde man’s concern, he nods his head, doing his best to smile back at you. He opens one of the cupboards and pulls out some snacks, handing them to you carefully.

“Let me know if you need help, alright?” Sanji’s eyes still hold some worry, but his easy-going smile is back on his face. You nod in response, thanking him for the food before heading to the top deck, wanting to get some fresh air.

Unbeknownst to you, the rest of the crew watched your interaction with Sanji, teasing him as soon as you were out of earshot.

“Is someone a little jealous?” teases Usopp, to which Sanji shakes his head, brushing him off.

Back on the deck, you take a seat on a blanket, putting Buggy’s head down next to you. He looks up at you with a sense of wonder, admiring your features.

“So what sounds good, apples? Crackers?” You gesture to the pile of snacks in front of you, a soft smile on your face.

“Just give me whatever you don’t want,” says the clown, his smile widening at the surprised look on your face.

“I thought you were this tough guy who only cares about himself?” Your voice is gentle, with a hint of curiosity. He chuckles at your words, shaking his head softly.

“Don’t believe everything you hear, doll.” His eyes twinkle as he speaks. “Who knows, maybe I just like you.” Feeling the heat rise to your face, you look down bashfully, not sure how to respond.

“Apples it is then.” Reaching over to grab one of the apples, you pull out the knife Sanji gave you and start cutting it into smaller pieces, slipping one into your mouth every so often. The clown just watches you, taking the opportunity to admire you while he can. Secretly, he plans to charm you so that you’ll leave with him once this is all over.

After cutting the apple into enough pieces, you move to give one to Buggy, when an idea comes into your mind.

“Here comes the choo choo train!” You say teasingly, waving the apple slice around like you would for a toddler. His eyes narrow at you, and you can tell he’d be crossing his arms if they were with him.

“Very funny,” he says unamusedly, though there is still a hint of a smile on his face. Chuckling at his response, you finally give him the apple slice, and he watches you while he chews.

“I didn’t pick these apples out so if they’re bad it’s not my fault.” You smirk at him cheekily, and he just shakes his head before swallowing.

“It’s fine,” he says, still smiling at you. “Trust me, I’ve eaten much worse.” Taking an apple slice for yourself, you pop it into your mouth, taking a look at the view around you.

“The sea sure is pretty,” you comment, admiring the fluffy clouds above you.

“Not as pretty as you.” Buggy’s statement makes you turn your head toward him. Searching his eyes for insincerity, your eyebrows furrow as you find none. By now you’re sure you’re blushing, and you look down at the apple to hide the apparent flush on your face.

“You’re quite the flirt, aren’t you?” Anxiety fills your chest, wondering whether his words were truthful or just a way to lower your guard. You fiddle with your fingers, sparing glances in his direction. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, the clown speaks up, his tone softer than before.

“I’m being serious, you’re gorgeous, babe.” His eyes scan your face, hoping you’ll believe him, the corner of his mouth upturned into a soft smile. You just shake your head softly, his cheeky smile prompting your own. Gaining some confidence, you respond in a pert tone.

“Yeah, well you’re quite the looker yourself. I bet the girls go crazy for you.” Buggy’s cocky demeanor falters for a second, used to giving compliments rather than receiving them. He laughs nervously, thankful for the makeup on his face for hiding the blush on his cheeks.

“Depends on how you define crazy,” he says, tilting his head slightly. Even though you can’t visibly see the flush on his cheeks, his demeanor tells you enough. Chuckling to yourself, you reach for an apple slice, observing the clown as you chew.

“I guess we’re both not used to compliments.” Timbre hushed, you watch as he nods, silently agreeing with your statement. The two of you exchange friendly conversation, slowly opening up to one another. Before you know it, the sun is setting on the horizon as the day comes to a close, and all the snacks you got from Sanji are gone.

“If your captain correctly follows my directions, we should arrive at Arlong Park within a day.” Buggy’s tone is kind, something unusual for him, though there’s still a hint of playfulness. Nodding in response, you move to pick him up, being careful as always. He always gets a weird look on his face when you treat him with such fragility, and you assume it’s because being treated in such a way is unfamiliar territory for him.

Walking down the stairs, you head towards your room, smiling at your crew members as you pass them. Stopping by the kitchen to get some fresh water, you run into Sanji, who seems to be writing something down in a notebook. Probably his meal plan for tomorrow, you think to yourself. The chef turns to you as you enter, surprised to see you still with the clown.

“Aren’t you getting sick of watching him? Why don’t you let one of us take a turn, you’ve been on clown watch all day.” He says with a concerned smile.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” Sanji looks at you as you speak, his eyes scanning over your face as if it were a puzzle to be deciphered. His eyebrows furrow, revealing his confusion. To him, watching a pretty person choose to hang out with a homicidal maniac was like watching a scientist write poetry, it made absolutely no sense. He narrows his eyes for a moment, debating on what to say.

“Well, if you’re happy I guess.” His tone indicates that he wants to say more, but is restraining so as to not upset you.

“I’ll just get some water and I’ll be out of your way,” you say mellowly, the awkward tension becoming uncomfortable. At your comment, Sanji sends a flirty smirk in your direction.

“You’re never in my way, darling.” Feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, you nod quickly and head to grab the water. You couldn’t see it, but if looks could kill, the glare Buggy was giving the chef would have knocked him dead. After finding the water, you make a beeline for your room, not wanting to deal with more problematic interactions. As Sanji watches you leave, he wonders to himself how the clown has caught your interest, clearly not understanding the appeal.

Shutting the door to your cabin, you let out a sigh, gingerly placing Buggy on your bed, and moving to sit next to him. He notices the change in your mood, already missing the smile on your face.

“Everything okay, dollface?” His tone is the gentlest it’s been in years. The last time he could recall speaking in such a manner was with Shanks, and that was quite a long time ago. Nodding slowly, you start to fidget with your fingers, signaling your uneasiness.

“There’s just something about the way he looked at me like I was doing something wrong. It just reminds me how I don’t fit in with the rest of the crew.” You bring your hand up to start picking at your lips, the anxiety in your gut triggering the habit that appears whenever you get nervous. The action does not go unnoticed by the clown, and he tries to think of a way to calm you down.

“Hey, don’t do that. You’ll get scars,” Buggy says gently, wishing he had his body with him so he could grab your hand and pull it away from your face. Pausing your movements to look at him, you notice how concerned he seems, which ignites a strange feeling in your chest, comfort perhaps. You chuckle softly before replying, watching how his eyes never leave your face.

“It’s a little too late for that, I’m afraid.” He doesn’t match your laughter, aware of your attempt at deflection. A deep pit of sorrow seeps its way through his chest, which feels strange considering it’s not currently attached to him. It’s at this moment when he realizes how much he cares for you and decides that when you find Nami and the rest of his body, you’re coming with him. He’d be damned if he let anyone make you feel anything other than happiness. For a few minutes, you just watch each other, deciding what to say. In the end, Buggy is the one to break the silence.

“I know what it’s like to not fit in, but trust me when I say you’re a treasure, and anyone who doesn’t see that is an idiot. This crew is lucky to have you, they should be making you happy, not sad.” He smiles at you, his usual teasing nature completely gone in exchange for raw sincerity.

“Look, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I meant it when I said I had a spot for you on my crew. You’d be treated like royalty, which is exactly what you deserve.” Unlike the first time he said it, you actually consider what it would be like to join him, the thought bringing a small smile to your face.

“There’s that gorgeous smile. You’re too pretty to be sad, angel.” His words may be flirty, but he means each of them wholeheartedly. You chuckle and blush breaking into a full smile.

“How are you so sure your crew will like me?” You ask softly, tilting your head at him.

“They’d be stupid not to like you. And even if they don’t, their Captain does which means they don’t really have much of a choice.” He smirks up at you, enjoying the little giggle you let out. “At the end of the day, they’re below me and you’d be beside me, so at the very least they’d respect you. Knowing my crew though, I can pretty much guarantee they’ll like you.”

You listen to him speak with a smile, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like someone actually understands you, even if that someone is technically your crew’s rival. He grins as you nod, observing you with an almost wondrous look.

“We have to find Nami first though, okay?” You declare, pointing your finger at him playfully. Buggy laughs and nods, swearing that neither of you will leave before the redhead is found. A yawn slips out as you chuckle, the fatigue from the day reappearing like a weight on your shoulders.

“It’s late, we should get some sleep. Besides, tomorrow’s the day we rescue your friend and I’d rather you didn’t fall asleep on me.” He says with a smirk, and you nod, giggling softly to yourself. Pulling back the blanket, you move to lie down, placing Buggy’s head on its side on a pillow in front of you.

“Good night, Bugs.” The clown smiles at the nickname, gazing at you fondly as you snuggle up with the blanket.

“Good night, darling.” He says softly, watching you close your eyes. He takes the opportunity to study your features, afraid that if he looks away he’ll forget them. After a while he hears your breathing even out, signaling your unconscious state. Only then he closes his eyes, hoping to dream of you.

—---

The next morning goes by quickly, everyone preparing for the rescue they’re about to attempt. Buggy’s directions were correct, and Arlong Park was visible just on the horizon. The energy is full of excitement and anticipation, with everyone looking forward to seeing Nami again. Right now, you’re sitting on the deck surrounded by the rest of the crew as they discuss the game plan.

“You know the layout of Arlong Park, don’t you, clown?” Zoro’s tone is harsh, and Buggy has to physically resist rolling his eyes. He’s placed on your lap, something that keeps catching the eyes of Sanji, perhaps with a hint of jealousy. The only person who isn’t actively glaring daggers at him is Luffy, though that doesn’t say much considering the pirate is always happy.

“Yes, but I won’t be much help as a head, so we need to find my body first. Then we can go after your navigator.” If it wasn’t for your gentle touch on the sides of his neck, he would’ve gone off by now, annoyed at being treated like a prisoner.

“I can help with that,” you pipe up, and everyone nods in agreement. The group discusses some more, everyone being assigned various roles to assist in the operation going smoothly. After that, you all gear up, your goal being to reattach Buggy’s head to his body before you can help the others. Soon, the boat is docked a little away from your destination, not wanting to signal Arlong’s men of your arrival.

Trekking through the foliage, you finally make it to the gates and split into groups, deciding that it’ll be easier to cover more ground that way. Your group consists of yourself, Buggy, and Sanji, as the chef didn’t trust the clown being alone with you. The blue-haired pirate directs you towards a hidden entrance along the side of the park, one in which you hopefully wouldn’t be spotted. Following his directions, you come across a small clearing in the trees, Sanji following right behind you.

“Where do you think your body is being kept?” You ask quietly, hoping your voice doesn’t tell Arlong or his men of your locations.

“Probably somewhere amongst the carnival games. Since he’s taken it I’ve noticed they’ve been throwing something at it, probably darts based on the sensation. Arlong likes to mess with people anyway, so it would make sense.” Nodding, you head towards that area, allowing Buggy to tell you where to go since he’s the only one who’s been here before. Not long after, you stumble upon what you’re looking for, Buggy’s body pinned up against some balloons. Breaking out into a large smile, you look down at Buggy, and he grins back up at you.

“Wow, you were actually right,” Sanji comments, his words full of surprise and bitterness, his distaste for the clown painfully obvious.

“You say that like it’s a miracle.” The clown says in rebuttal, sharing the disdain for the chef. Suddenly, Buggy’s head flies out of your hands as the various parts of his body reattach themselves. Once he’s back to being a whole person, he hops down from the wall, running towards you with joy written on his face.

“It feels better than I even remembered!” Says the clown, running his hands up and down his arms. He turns to you with a grin.

“Now let’s go find your friend.” You nod at him, his happiness triggering your own.

While searching for Nami, you run into the rest of your crew, who seem to be in a bit of a hurry.

“What’s the matter? Did you find her? Is she okay?” Right as Usopp is about to answer, a familiar voice rings into the air.

“Miss me that much?” You turn your head in the direction of the sound, and a huge smile breaks out on your face as you see Nami running towards you. She smirks at your expression before continuing. “We need to get out of here before the rest of the Arlong pirates find us, we can catch up later.” You nod quickly, picking up your pace, and start running behind the others, Buggy at your side.

Once you all are far enough away from Arlong Park, the crew stops to properly greet Nami, yourself included. You can tell she’s not much of a hugger, so you make sure your embrace is short. As you all talk amongst yourselves, Buggy stands a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt the moment. After everyone had a chance to talk to the red-haired girl, she finally notices the clown standing awkwardly a few steps away and furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

“What the hell is he doing here?” She asks shortly, starting to walk in his direction. You quickly move to stand in front of her, preventing the two from fighting.

“It’s okay, he’s okay,” you say quickly, and are met with a confused look from the girl. “He actually helped us find you. I mean, we had no idea where we were going until he showed up, considering you are our navigator.” She scoffs at the idea of Buggy willingly helping someone who isn’t part of his crew.

“Oh yeah? How’d you get him to do that? Torture him or something?” Nami looks at Buggy suspiciously, not believing that he actually did something nice for once. You shake your head, chuckling nervously, not sure how to explain the whole ‘I gave him a bath and we kinda connected’ thing. Lucky for you, Buggy speaks up.

“Your crew member here is very convincing.” He takes a step forward, gesturing to you with a cheeky smile. She just watches the two of you for a moment, finally connecting the dots between Buggy’s friendly attitude and your flustered demeanor.

“Huh. Well, that’s something I didn’t expect to see today,” says the redhead, her timbre nonchalant.

“What didn’t you expect to see, Nami?” Sanji quickly asks. Now that she’s back, Sanji is taking every opportunity he can find to speak with Nami.

“Y/N hooking up with the clown. They didn’t seem like the type but I guess we all have secrets.” She looks at you with a smirk, a deep blush blossoming on your face. The rest of the crew looks surprised, especially Usopp, now that your little fancy has been blatantly stated.

“Wait, you have a thing for the clown captain? How am I only finding out about this now?” Usopp asks with a smile on his face.

“You really haven’t noticed? Even though I can’t possibly fathom why, they’ve been spending every second together the past few days. I mean, they’re always blushing around him, and that’s a sign of only one thing.” You’re surprised that Zoro seems so calm now, especially considering the way he reacted in the beginning. There’s no smile on his face, but he doesn’t appear to be upset. “You really need to be more observant of your surroundings, Usopp.” The swordsman shakes his head, baffled at his crew member’s ignorance.

It’s Sanji who turns to you next, a mix of emotions on his face. “So you two are really a thing?” he asks hesitantly, not sure if he really wants to hear the answer. By now you’re sure your face is deeply flushed, not used to being put in the spotlight.

“Let’s just say I’m pretty fond of your crew member,” Buggy looks at you cheekily, enjoying the blush on your visage. Sanji stays silent for a moment before nodding, leaning closer to say something to you.

“Just be careful, darling, okay?” His voice is gentle, and he backs away as soon as he sees the glare the clown is giving him. Suddenly Nami walks up to Buggy with a tough look on her face.

“If you hurt them, I’ll make sure you’re just a head, permanently.” He immediately puts his hands up in surrender, knowing that she fully means the threat.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, they’re too precious.” The look on the clown’s face shows his fear of her, a sight that almost makes Nami’s lip quirk.

“Good.” She turns back to you, the smile returning to her face.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’ll actually miss you.” You knew this was the closest Nami got to being sappy, and you moved to give her one last hug.

“I’ll miss you too, Nami. Keep the boys in check for me, will you?” The navigator chuckles at your question, letting you go from the hug.

“Oh I will, you don’t need to worry about that.” Despite not knowing you for long, Nami secretly always liked you, finding you the most enjoyable to be around, unbeknownst to you.

Turning to the rest of your crew, you can tell they’ve already figured out your decision. You walk up to Luffy first, who’s beaming at you like a little boy.

“We’ll miss you too but I can tell this is what you want.” Your lips tug upwards at his statement, appreciating the way he values your wants and desires. “You know you’re always welcome on the straw hat crew, right?” His question makes you smile, and you nod in response. Stepping closer, you give him a tight hug which he happily reciprocates. ‘Always so touchy’ you think to yourself fondly. After pulling away, you say goodbye to the rest of the crew members, even getting a small “good luck kid” from Zoro.

“Until we meet again.” You say to all of them, nodding as a sign of respect. They wave at you as you walk away, following Buggy to go find his crew. As you’re walking, he stops abruptly and turns to you.

“Oh! I forgot something.” Raising your eyebrows, you start to open your mouth to ask him what he meant, when suddenly he carefully grabs the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his. Your eyes widen for a second out of surprise, but you quickly close them and kiss him back, moving your hand to his bicep. He grins at you after you pull away, taking pleasure in the shy look on your face.

“Cat got your tongue?” The blue-haired man says softly, referring to the conversation you had the day you first met. You giggle and shake your head, hiding your face in his chest. He laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“You’re too cute, you know that? Now come on, I’ve got some people to introduce you to.” You look up at him as you pull away, smiling as he grabs your hand to lead you to his crew.

Please do not replicate/repost :)

#my writing #buggy #buggy fanfic #buggy fanfiction #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #one piece

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reiderwriter · 1 year

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hii!!! so i was wondering if you could do a one shot that’s inspired by either false god by taylor swift where spencer and reader are just worshiping each other? thank you <3

Hi! I'm not much of a swiftie, so I've never heard that song before I sat down to write this but it was perfect inspiration for a fic! I hope you enjoy it 💕

Warnings: Case details mentioned, typical CM violence, angst-adjacent confrontation with happy ending, hurt/comfort, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), squirting (implied), vaginal sex, implied creampie (no birth control mentioned). 2.2k words. Based on:

It was when the door to your hotel room slammed shut that you knew there was finally going to be a confrontation. Combing a hand through your hair, you threw your bag down and turned to look at Spencer. He stood there, just watching you from the door, his jaw tense as he struggled to break the silence and actually talk to you the way you knew he wanted to.

“Spit it out, Spencer. If you’re going to push your way in here, you might as well say what you want to say.” You were frustrated and his silence was only making the fatigue from a day on a tough case worse. “Come on, Spencer, I don’t have all day.”

“Do you want to die?” His voice held steady when he finally let out the words, and they hit you like a succer-punch. “Because what I saw out there today seemed like someone more than happy to put themselves in harm's way for no reason.” He stepped closer to you as he said the words, and you felt yourself grow hot. You just weren’t sure if it was from shame or anger.

“Don’t profile me, Reid. I knew what I was doing.” You turned your back on him and began to go about your business, hoping that he would drop it and vacate the room as quickly as he’d stormed in.

“You tried to take a bullet for me. Y/N, I was in the middle of talking him down, and you pushed me out of the way and forced his hand.”

“So will the thank you card be delivered in the post, or can I expect it on my desk tomorrow?” You still wouldn’t make eye contact with him, thinking back to the events of the day.

You’d known the plan all along was to have Reid talk the suspect down while you got his last victim to safety. Everything in the profile pointed towards the unsub being a loner, someone with narcissistic personalities who you knew wouldn’t end up shooting his way out. Someone that had acted with a cold violent misogyny in his crimes, and someone who would not respond well to a female agent trying to get through to him. You knew all that and you still couldn’t help yourself.

“In this world of ours, Agent, men like you and I should be Gods. It’s my right to take that power for myself,” the man had said, holding his hostage in his arms as if she were a ragdoll, carefully watching every movement you and your team made. Morgan and Emily had the back entrances covered should he try to run, and Hotch, Rossi and JJ were coordinating with the backup SWAT team outside, should he gain any miniscule upper-hand in the situation.

It was when Reid started talking to him again that you felt the bile rise in your throat and your body stop listening to your rational thoughts. He was giving the man everything he wanted to hear; stroking his ego, complimenting him, agreeing with him, and the man was responding as well as you could hope.

But something was wrong, and it was clear from the moment that he levelled his gun in the direction of Spencer and released the female victim that something was about to go horribly wrong.

“I think I was wrong, actually. We both cannot be Gods, can we?” He laughed as he said this, and you froze up instantly. Your only regret was probably that you forgot to go and check on the victim sitting on the floor, your eyes watching on in horror instead as your body through itself in front of Reid just as the unsub was ready to pull the trigger.

The push had knocked the two of you off-balance. But the unsub was slack-mouthed and caught off-guard. He hadn’t even pulled the trigger yet, and now here the two of you were sitting pretty for him on the floor of his dump site waiting for him to put a bullet through your brains. He didn’t have the chance to, the SWAT sniper getting the orfer to open fire the second you’d strayed from protocol.

Spencer still hadn’t left your room, his anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves. You moved about the room in an organized frenzy, completing your nightly rituals with as much obvious frustration as you could muster. You dropped your gun and badge on the nightstand, pulled off your jacket and mindlessly rooted through your bag looking for nothing in particular, praying that Spencer would walk out of the door and not force you to face your stupid decisions.

Instead he grabbed your wrists, spinned you around and pushed you against the wall, forcing your eyes to meet with his as he pinned you there.

“Stop fucking ignoring me,” he growled out in a low-voice. The sudden burst of movement had you both gasping for breath and you just stood there quietly again for a few seconds, breathing each other. You gave in first and rested your head against the wall, letting him force your eyes up to meet his.

“Ask me the question you really want the answer for, Reid. Because we both know I’m not suicidal.”

“Why won’t you let me keep you safe?” his voice came out in a small whimper now, his body weight slowly pressing up against yours as he moved to rest his forehead on your head. The two of you stood there suspended in time, just lost in the feel of each other, the pressure and the heat from his body in contrast to the sharp cool of the wall at your back, and you silently begged him to make a move. But he was determined to get you to answer, holding his tongue when all you wanted him to do was crash his lips against yours and help you to fill yourself with him.

“Because I do not want to be safe in a world without you,” you finally confessed. He lasted only a few seconds with that answer hung between you before he gave you what you wanted.

His lips were cracked and dry but he was warm and sweet and you instantly received him, desperate to pull him so close that he could never leave. Your lips crashed together again and again, as if desperate to stretch your first kiss into your first ten, twenty, one hundred. He dropped your wrists after an eternity, only to greedily run his hands up and down your waist, snaking around you so tight that you gasped and let his tongue in.

He explored you with his entire body, his mouth pressing into you messily his hands roaming desperately trying to map the plains of your body, like knowing you would be his salvation. You did the same, gripping his sweater with balled up fists and forcing him closer into you, unwilling and unable to let him move away.

He gently walked you to the edge of the bed, not straying from his ministrations for even a second, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you were falling. But he was falling with you, and so you didn’t care,

He finally pulled away from you then, raising himself up onto his arms and looking down on you like you’d personally put the stars in the sky.

“Have you ever stopped to think for a second that I’d hate any world without you in it as well?” Shifting his weight, he bought his hand down to cup your cheek, then let his finger ghost over your neck and down to the swell of your breasts as he moved to undo each button of your blouse tantalisingly slow.

“Give me the word, and I will worship you. I will show you exactly what you mean to me. Just give me the word and I will let you know peace.” You whimpered out a breathy ‘yes,’ and he was on you again in seconds, with a renewed passion.

Your blouse was discarded in seconds as his tongue traced its way down to your breasts in sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and still the only sound that filled the room was your desperate pants. Your hips rolled up against his as he pulled you up to discard your bra, his tongue finally landing on your painfully erect nipples. He tweaked and teased, moving between them languidly, and you were content to have him stay there forever.

He obviously had further plans though, and he moved lower still, kissing down to your navel and lifting your hips just enough for you to shimmy them down your legs and discard them quickly. And then there he was, just sat with his head resting in between your legs, pressing sweet kisses to the insides of your thighs and looking deeply into your eyes as he worked his way closer and closer to your core.

Your panties were slick to your skin, so when he made his first drag of his tongue up your slit, it was with the beautiful added friction of the lace against you. He buried his face in your core then, and started licking and sucking and devouring you like a man starved, like you were nectar from the heavens and your attentions could grant him immortality.

Even with the panties interrupting any direct contact, you could feel your need for him bubble up to your boiling point, and you squeezed your thighs around him, suffocating him in your first release. He pulled your legs apart again, taking the time to remove your panties now before pinning your legs apart again and returning to his last supper.

He sucked, nipped, kissed you again, one hand pressed firmly against your hips to pin you down as you bucked and writhed in your sensitivity. His face was slick with your juices, as he thrust his tongue in and out of you now, using his nose to press into your aching clit.

He worked tirelessly, desperate to shower you with all the attention he wanted to give you, and you gasped and moaned and whined back to him, like a goddess whispering affirmations in the ears of her most devout follower.

It was understandable when your second orgasm hit, then, and he found himself flooded with your juices, doing his best to ride you through this time and taking in as much of you into his mouth as possible. When he finally pulled away, your legs were twitching and your eyelids heavy, but with your remaining strength, you cupped his cheeks and bought his face up to yours. He face glistened with your cum, his lips now plump and shining, and you pulled him down to you, aching with the desire to taste yourself on his tongue.

“I’m going to keep you safe and hold you like this until you understand that I am not capable of living without you, do you understand?” he whispered in your ear when he finally pulled away, and you let the tears that had been building up fall finally as he pressed one final kiss to your lips before moving away to rid himself of his clothes.

You were crazy to think that you would ever be able to turn your back on this man, that he would ever walk away from you and leave you alone. As he returned to you you held out your arms open to him, and he fell into them. It was a home-coming, a return to the palace the both of you belonged, wrapped up in each other like that.

Still weak from his earlier attentions, he helped you move your legs to wrap them around him, as you twined your arms up and around his neck, pulling him in for a deep and passionate kiss as he pushed despairingly slowly into you.

You winced as you adjusted to his size and he pressed chaste kisses along your neck as you got used to him, whispering between each one.

“You’re beautiful,” your neck. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” your jaw. “I will spend my entire life in awe of you,” the corner of your mouth.

When you were ready you finally blinked your eyes open and pushed your mouth into his, and he finally began his movements. Rocking his hips gently into yours, the two of you were in no rush to consume each other, savoring the feel of your coupling. You finally understood the meaning of calling the act making love - never before had you felt so cared for, so loved and desired as you did in that moment with Spencer Reid.

You felt him getting closer and closer to bliss when he started picking up his pace slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his body heavy with the weight of his love for you.

“I love you,” you gasped out as you felt him shudder inside of you, letting him hear the words just as he was tipped over the edge. Even though it was the first time you’d voiced the words so clearly outloud, you felt no panic, no anxiety at having made a hasty decision. It felt right, it was right.

And you were going to keep telling this man, who worshipped you so wholly, as often as you could from this day forward,so help you god.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #maturereiding #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst #taylor swift

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nessinborderland · 2 years

Text

Hungry for You

Pairing: Yoon Gwinam x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Dark fic

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You want to stay alive.

In your school, zombies roam the halls and death is certain. Unknown to you, a bigger threat lingers nearby, and he's hungry. Lucky for you, he doesn't want you dead either. He just wants you as dead as he is.

Warnings⚠️ Extremely Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Character Death, Blood and Violence, Blood and Gore

Notes: This work was inspired by a request that was sent via my google forms. Thank you to the anon that requested it, this was a fun one to write ;)

If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a heart and reblogging <3

AO3 | Masterlist

Plunk! Tink! Bum! Bang!

You can’t listen to that fucking piano anymore. Your head hurts for a multitude of reasons, and the goddamn piano noise just outside is going to make you lose your mind, you’re sure of it.

Who are you kidding? You feel like you have lost it already. The last thirty-something hours have been nothing but a hell straight out of your foulest nightmares, and you can’t wait for it to end so you can go home and sleep the headache away. But that seems something further and further from happening with every passing hour.

A zombie apocalypse. A fucking zombie apocalypse. You can’t believe that something as unbelievable as the dead rising is fucking real. You refuse to believe it.

All you want is to sleep – beyond tired from all the running, the crying, and the fear that still makes your heartbeat race – but that seems to be impossible. Your back and neck hurt from your half-sitting, half-lying position against the wooden closet behind you, and your eyes sting from hours of crying and lack of sleep. You sigh; what you wouldn’t give right now to be safe and sound in your bed.

Tink! Bang! Plunk!

You cover your ears with a grunt and change positions on the bench you’re in, stretching your legs that are starting to tingle from being bent for so long. Your feet collide with your companion’s thigh, and you mumble a quick apology before bending your legs again with a sigh.

“It’s okay,” comes the weak reply.

You glance at the girl in front of you, eyebrows furrowing as you take in her almost catatonic state. Lee Nayeon; that’s her name.

She saved your life.

You had been so close to being a zombie meal, your legs almost giving up on you as you tried to find someone or something, or somewhere that would help you stay alive. You got inside that classroom by sheer luck, and it was by Nayeon’s grace alone that you didn’t die outside that room. If she had never opened the door for you, you would be growling with the other monsters in the corridor, waiting for the chance to sink your teeth into the flesh of the living.

So here you are, you and your companion, seemingly alone in a school that quickly became a death trap, with zombies growling in the halls and a piano grinding on your nerves.

“That’s it, I’m stopping that thing,” you proclaim as you rush to get up, limping on prickly legs as you make your way to the door.

You hesitate, your hand on the handle; is it safe? You know the answer to that: a big, fat, NO.

“What’re you doing?” Nayeon questions, her tone hesitant as she glances at your hand before looking at your face. “It’s not safe.”

“I know,” you say with a nod, followed by a gulp as you take up the courage to unlock the door. The sound of it unlocking makes you slightly jump, and your shoulders tighten as you slowly open the door just a crack. “I wanna stop the noise, that’s all.”

The adjacent room is messy, with broken furniture and musical instruments painting a chaotic scene together with the blood on the floor, but at least it appears to be empty. You are aware of the couple of zombies trapped in the room, their growls making it easier to pinpoint where they are in the dark room. You open the door a little more before remembering that the sliding doors that access the corridor are wide open.

“Nope,” you say to yourself as you close the door again, cringing as it makes a loud noise. You let out a small whimper as the zombies in the room start a wave of agitating noises, no doubt alerted by the sound of you carelessly closing the door.

You hold your breath as you wait for them to calm down, hoping that no zombies were alerted by their ruckus. The last thing you need right now is even more zombies in the area.

“Do you think that the piano will attract others here?” Nayeon’s voice right beside you startles you, and you turn to face her.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m trying to make it stop,” you answer in a whisper, “but I’m scared more will come. The sliding door is open.”

“I’ll help.”

You nod, taking a deep breath before forcing yourself to open the door a second time. Everything seems as calm as before, the growls of the trapped zombies now back to normal. You glance at the lit hallway, relieved at seeing it empty.

“Okay so,” you start, “I’m going to stop the piano while you close the door and keep watch, okay?” Nayeon nods and you give her a brief smile. “Cool, let’s do this then.”

“You were supposed to keep watch!” you loudly whisper, trying your best not to shout your words. You shoot a fearful glance at the door, where new zombies bang against it with all their might, and you feel like sobbing. Fresh blood slides down your arm and drops to the floor, and your whole body shakes as you try not to panic from the burning scratch on your forearm. You see red from how furious you are. “I was almost bitten back there because of you!”

“I’m sorry!” Nayeon pleads with tears in her eyes. “I got distracted and–”

“And I almost died!” You push her then, unable to control your rage as your voice raises in tone. She falls back against the bench, eyes on the video camera in her hands. You feel your anger grow. “And all for a goddamn camera?”

“I said I was sorry, okay?” she snaps, sending you a look that reminds you a lot of the Nayeon you are more familiar with. “You don’t have to be a bitch about it, it’s not like they bit you!” You were never friends, or even in the same class, but you always knew her as the preppy rich girl with a superiority complex. And here she is, proving herself as exactly that.

“Fuck you,” is all you say as you remove yourself to a corner of the room, grabbing a roll of toilet paper with shaky hands from a nearby box before sitting back on the floor against the shelves.

You do your best to clean up your wound as you try your hardest not to panic. Is a scratch enough for you to get infected? Is this how you will die? By turning into those awful monsters?

At least I’ll eat her as revenge, you think to yourself before shaking those thoughts away. You don’t want that to happen, doesn’t matter that you almost died because of her recklessness. You want both of you to live. That’s all you want right now.

A sound from across the room makes you look at Nayeon, that is focused on the video on the camcorder like nothing else matters. Some voices and names sound familiar, but you’re too tired and dizzy to focus exactly on what they’re saying. Still, hearing other people brings you some comfort, and you’re dozing off to sleep before you realize it.

A sudden noise startles you awake, and you open your eyes wide to search the dark room, fearing the worst. Nayeon is standing across from you, filling her bag with the food and drinks from the shelves with a vigor you can only describe as desperate. You can still hear someone talking from the video camera.

How long have I been asleep? you ask yourself as you feel your injury burn. A look at it tells you that at least it has stopped bleeding.

“What’re you doing?” you ask her, hating the way your voice sounds. Your head hurts now more than ever, and you consider going back to sleep.

“I’m just–”

She interrupts herself before finishing her words, and you look up at her with a raised brow, sensing that something is wrong but unable to realize what.

“It’s my fault he died,” says someone in the video, grief clear in the boy’s tone. “Please let his grandma know.”

Your eyes widen at the words, and you think you just realized why Nayeon is staring at the camcorder with such intensity, a tremble to her lower lip.

“You know them?” you ask. She nods, and that’s all the answer you need. “I’m sorry.”

You stay quiet, deep in your thoughts as the words in the background go by you. You don’t know these people personally, but their faces are familiar. They are students, just like you. Teenagers with dreams and hopes that suddenly don’t matter anymore. All that matters now is surviving; at least to you. Still, most die, as shown by the dead walking just outside this door you’re hiding behind. Kids are dying in here. Outside the school grounds too, for all you know.

Maybe that’s why no one has come to our rescue after almost three days, you think to yourself, quickly shaking those thoughts away; losing hope won’t help you stay alive.

A beep snaps you out of your thoughts, and you look back at Nayeon to see that the camera has seemingly run out of battery. She’s looking in your direction; but not at you. At something beside you.

You glance in the direction of her stare, relieved and confused by seeing nothing but a wall and more furniture. There’s no one there, but the look on her face makes you believe she’s seeing a ghost.

Nayeon suddenly drops the bag in her hands, and you watch as the look on her face deepens into something you can’t quite comprehend, but looks a lot like grief and regret. She hugs her knees to her chest and buries her face against them. Her shoulders start to shake.

“I killed them,” you hear her whisper in a tone so low you have to force yourself to comprehend her words.

“W-What?”

“I killed them,” she repeats in a shaky voice. “They’re dead because of me.”

Before you can process her words, she stands up and reaches for the bag on the floor, refilling it with food and beverages with newfound vigor before heading for the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” you ask with wide eyes, forcing yourself to get up and follow her. Your scratch still hurts like hell, but at least it has stopped bleeding. That – and the fact that you’re yet to crave the flesh of the living – brings you some relief.

“Got to go back to them,” is all she says as she opens the door and walks out.

You follow, hesitating by the door as you see her peek into the corridor. You quietly walk towards her and pull her by the hand, hoping that the zombies lurking in the hallway aren’t attracted by your presence.

“What’re you doing?” you whisper, trying to pull her with you back inside the room. She shakes her arm off your grip. “This is dangerous!”

“They’re on the roof,” she explains, eyes wide as they lock on yours. They look desperate as she passes by you to search for something near the wall. “They don’t have any food or water, so I’m bringing them some. I have to help–”

Bang!

The sound of a door shutting roughly behind you makes you both jump, and you turn around to look at the source of the noise. Relief floods through you as you see who it is, the sight of seeing someone else alive – even if it’s him – filling you with hope. You had avoided thinking about him at all since this all started, but part of you was sure he was dead. You should’ve known better.

“Gwinam!” you exclaim at seeing the tall boy, a smile gracing your lips as you take a step closer. Your smile quickly drops as you take in his appearance.

Something isn’t right.

He’s covered in blood, white jacket stained red. But that is not what worries you.

“W-What happened to your eye?” you ask, gulping at the expression on his face. You reflexively take a step back as he takes a step forward, the way he looks at you sending a chill down your spine. Something is very very wrong. “Gwinam?”

“What’s that?” he asks instead with a nod in Nayeon’s direction, ignoring your questions.

“It’s… nothing.”

“Well…” he says, passing by you, his eyes locked on Nayeon. “I have to go to the roof. But the door’s locked. So, I’m going that way,” he says while pointing at the window.

You stare at him in surprise; what is going on?

“You’re not a zombie, are you?” Nayeon asks in a hesitant tone, her eyes jumping to you before she focuses back on him. You can see the growing fear in her eyes.

Something is very very wrong.

“Zombie? Fuck that!” You can’t help but flinch at Gwinam’s tone. He might not be a zombie, but he is starting to scare you almost as much as one. He was never kind, but this is not normal – even for him. “So, is that food?”

“Yes, we–”

He interrupts your attempt at claiming his attention. “Are you hungry?”

“Gwinam, what’s–”

“I’m not talking to you, am I?” he snaps at you, turning his bad eye in your direction before focusing back on Nayeon. “Are you, huh? Are you hungry?

Nayeon nods.

“Me too.”

You hear it more than you see it. The scream; the gurgling sounds; the blood spraying the room – spraying you – and dripping onto the floor.

The look on Nayeon’s face as Gwinam buries his face in her neck and starts to feed.

It all happens so fast that you have no reaction but to freeze for the first few seconds. Your heartbeat quickens and your knees tremble, and you do anything but stare as Gwinam pulls Nayeon to him before biting into her neck with a disgusting, wet sound. Blood spatters and dribbles onto the floor as you watch him feed on the girl like she’s nothing but a bag of blood, the slurping sounds coming from his feeding making you retch as you double over and fall to your knees, eyes unable to leave the carnage in front of you.

You see the moment life vanishes out of Nayeon’s eyes, her body going limp before falling to the ground. Then slowly, he turns to you, and your eyes lock.

“What about you,” he takes a step forward, a gory smirk on his bloodied face. “Are you hungry?”

You have to run, or he will eat you too, screams the voice in your head.

He’s so much faster than you. Or maybe your eyes give it away. Either way, he’s grabbing you before you can even attempt to escape.

His strong hands squeeze your wrists in a tight grip, and you gasp as he forces you to stand up and shoves you against the wall with so much force it pushes the air out of your lungs. The look in his eyes is predatory. Hungry.

“Do you have any idea how good you smell?” he asks, leaning towards you to run his nose against your pulse. You jump at his touch, whimpering as his tongue licks your skin. “I bet you taste fucking amazing.”

You’re about to die; you’re sure of it. He’s going to eat you alive, just like he did with Nayeon.

“Please,” you beg, shaking your head in supplication. “Please don’t.”

He laughs. Like you said something funny. Nothing about the last three days has been funny.

“Lucky for you, I’m not hungry anymore,” he says, and you almost relax in his grip. But the look of bloodthirst in his good eye doesn’t let you.

Gwinam was always… complicated, to put it simply. You’ve known him for as long as you’ve attended Hyosan High School. In the beginning, he was just another classmate. Yes, he was cute, but he was also mean most of the time and liked to hang out with the wrong crowd, so you avoided him as much as possible.

Until you couldn’t.

When he asked you on a date – all red ears and avoiding eye contact – you had half a brain to say ‘no’. In retrospect, that’s exactly what you should’ve done, but the younger you was beyond happy to have a boy like you enough to ask you out.

So, you said ‘yes’, a shy smile on your face and the fantasies of a naive girl running through your head as you accepted his request.

Your relationship evolved naturally from there, and before you knew it he was stealing kisses when no one was around and touching your hand when you passed by each other in the hallways. It quickly became something more, with heated make-out sessions that ended with both of you naked and panting.

It was good; until it wasn’t. It broke your heart to end it, but you couldn’t ignore what he did anymore. How his group – him – treated others so badly that they dropped out or hurt themselves. Even to you, he was toxic; jealous, possessive, pushy… It took you some time to realize, but you knew he wasn’t good for you.

That was almost a year ago. You’ve barely said a word to each other since then, but – to your surprise and relief – he never tried to seek revenge after your breakup.

You hope that part of him still likes you enough to keep you alive.

“Are you going to- to eat me?” you can barely choke out your question amidst your sobbing. Funny; you were sure your tear ducts had run out of tears. Apparently not.

“No.” His answer makes you relax just a bit; you know he’s not lying. He’s not going to eat you. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to hurt you.

“T-Then are you–”

“I’m not letting you go either,” he says in a decisive tone. That’s when he leans his head to the side, observing you like he’s seeing your face for the first time. One of his hands releases your wrist to catch a falling tear, following its path up your face until his palm is cradling your cheek. It’s surprisingly gentle. “Why are you crying? You never cried before.”

“You’re scaring me,” you whimper, not able to control the tremor in your voice. “Please let me go.”

He scoffs, thumb wiping away your tears.

“Remember when we used to fuck after school? I swear I can still smell you on my sheets. Fuck,” he swears, pressing his forehead against yours. A sob escapes your lips at the proximity, and he chuckles. “You used to make the prettiest noises. I wanna hear you moan like that again. It’s been way too long.”

His body presses against yours at the same time he forces you into a kiss.

“No!” You cry out at the feeling of blood on your mouth and face, gagging when he deepens the kiss. You push him away with all your strength, but he barely budges. “Stop!”

A loud crash from behind you is what finally has him release you. You scream as a hoard of zombies barges into the room, you the clear target of their hunt. Gwinam barely reacts to the intrusion, grunting in frustration as he throws you into the other room before any of the dead can get you.

You fall to your knees as he closes the door behind him, and you do nothing but stare as you hear what goes on outside, the swears of Gwinam indicating that he’s fighting them off in some way. How he’s doing that, you can’t even begin to imagine.

Whatever he is, you’re sure of one thing: he’s not human anymore. Not completely.

The commotion outside lasts a few minutes, and you hold your breath as the last growl gives place to an eerie silence. Then, the doorknob turns, and in comes Gwinam, alive and well despite the blood on his clothes, skin, and hair. You can’t believe he’s alive. A small part of you wonders if he is alive.

You say nothing and stay on the floor, waiting for him to do or say something. But Gwinam barely sends you a glance before walking to the couch and sitting down with a sigh, his good eye closing as he leans his head against the wall.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask after your sobs have subsided. You can’t take the silence anymore.

“Why shouldn’t I?” he scoffs with a shrug, opening his eye to finally look at you. A chill runs down your back at the intensity of his gaze. You want him to look away.

“You ate her.”

“Be glad I didn’t eat you.”

That makes you shut up. You could be like Nayeon right now, body rigid and growing cold as your own blood sticks to your skin. Dead. But you’re not. That’s when you remember the blood in your mouth. Her blood. You rush to clean your bloodied face, gagging at the taste of it on your tongue.

“Are you going to kill me?” You rasp out after a moment of dry heaving.

“Not thinking about it, no. Why? Feel like dying?”

You shake your head, new tears falling down your cheeks. You want to live. You really do.

And that’s why you stand up, eyes not daring to meet his as you straddle his lap, hands hesitantly going on his shoulders as you try not to gag from all the blood on his face. The same blood that is also on your face, even though you did your best to clean it off. The blood that belongs to neither of you.

Without a word, you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe off the blood on the bottom half of his face. If you’re going to do this, you’re not doing it with Nayeon’s blood on his skin.

He watches you in silence, a light smirk on his lips that only widens when you start to unbutton your shirt, button by button. You can feel his heated gaze on you, burning you in a way that makes you want to press your thighs together. You know what he wants, and you don’t think you have any good options but to give it to him. It’s not like it’s your first time, anyway. Sex with him, if anything, is familiar.

Gwinam’s impatience gets to him, and he’s soon ripping your shirt open, buttons popping to the ground. You yelp as he roughly palms your breasts, ripping your bra apart before pulling them into his mouth. You close your eyes at the sensation of his warm tongue on your nipples, trying not to think about how he was eating someone not even twenty minutes ago.

This all feels like a nightmare, and you want it to end. But fuck, does he know how to touch you.

His mouth trails its path up your chest to the curve of your neck, marking your skin in ways that make you shiver and wonder when he’ll break your skin and turn you into a monster. Just like him.

You shiver at the thought, and he must take it as a sign of enjoyment because he’s pulling you down for another kiss before you can stop him, soft lips roughly forcing yours to respond to him as he tastes your mouth. A whimper escapes you as his teeth graze your bottom lip, his smirk clear as he stops you from pulling away.

So, you quickly give in.

When he breaks the kiss to pull your body under him, you let him. When he lifts your skirt and rips off your panties, you open your legs wider, ashamed of the wetness that shows him just how ready you are to get him inside you. His fingers are rough and fast as he touches you, thumb pressing on your clit as two of his fingers stretch you for him, making you arch your back and sway your hips as you chase more of that shameful pleasure.

“I’ve missed this pretty pussy of yours,” he groans against your ear as you hear him pull himself out of his pants. You gasp as he starts sliding his dick up and down your folds, making you moan every time his shaft bumps against your clit. “Always so wet for me.”

When he finally slides into you, it’s agony; the good and the bad kind, all mixed into one delightful experience. The head of his cock inside you makes you shake and moan in pleasure as he fills you up to the brim, your legs trembling as he lifts them over his shoulders before starting to thrust into you so roughly you have to cover your mouth to muffle your screams.

He doesn’t slow down as he fucks you, hands squeezing your tits as he leans over again to suck at your nipples, your legs still bent over his shoulders just making him fuck you even deeper as the angle shifts. You lay there as you let him use you, eyes closed tight as tears slide down your temples and your palm stops your moans of pleasure from escaping.

This shouldn’t feel this good. But it does. Fuck, it does.

If you try hard enough, you can imagine you’re still dating, and this is just another normal school day where he fucks your brains out after school. He wasn’t always the most giving lover, but he knew how to make your legs cramp from pleasure and make you moan the loudest.

And it seems he hasn’t forgotten how your body works.

“Look at me,” he orders with a thrust so deep it makes you whimper in pain. “Open those pretty eyes and look at me while I’m fucking you.”

You do what he says; that’s when the illusion is shattered. He’s not your boyfriend anymore and you’re not in his room, having sex just like normal teenagers. No.

Gwinam is a monster who just ate another human being and forced you into having sex with him. What choice did you have anyway; dying, just like everyone else? No, that’s not a choice. Not to you.

So, you endure it, all the long minutes it takes him to fuck you to completion, his gaze never leaving yours till the moment he comes with a groan and a shudder, burying his face in your neck. His thrusts get shallow as he comes in you, the feeling of it overwhelming as the weight of this whole situation throws you back into reality.

You just lay there as he comes, wincing at the burning feeling in your core that only grows when he pulls out of you, his cum seeping out of you to stick at your inner thighs. You stay still as he rests on you, your heart beating like a galloping horse as you catch your breath. You’re surprised to feel his fluttering heartbeat against your breast, fast and shallow, but there.

For whatever is worth, he’s alive, somewhat.

You lock eyes again when he finally pulls himself up from your body, a satisfied glint in his eye that shows you how satisfied he is. His features are relaxed and there’s a light smile on his lips, an expression that reminds you so much of the boy you used to date. It brings you some comfort; he won’t hurt you now, will he? You want to believe he won’t.

No words are shared between you as he stands up in all his naked glory, and that’s when you see it; the very gruesome, very recent marks that scar his body. You hadn’t noticed these before, but now they’re very clear in the contrast they make against his pale skin.

He shouldn’t be alive.

“What happened?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You slowly rise to a sitting position, leaning over to grab your mangled shirt off the floor. “What is wrong with you? Your body…”

He halts his movements and his eye narrows.

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” He looks almost offended, like you’re the weird one. “I’m better now than ever before,” he continues as he finishes dressing. “You’re the one that should ask herself what is wrong with you.”

The look he gives you is enough to make you recoil, and you flinch as he kneels before you, grabbing you by the arms with so much force you cry out.

“Please,” you beg, in a shaky tone. “I gave you what you wanted, now let me go.”

He shakes his head as he cradles your cheeks, pulling your face to his.

“You could be like me,” he starts, growing excitement in his voice as he pulls you in for a short kiss that you don’t return. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Too bad,” he shrugs, followed by a low laugh. “It would be a waste to watch you die. I can do you one better.” The grip on your face tightens slightly, and you tense under his touch.

“Gwinam–”

The feeling of his teeth on your neck feels like blinding pain. He moans as you scream, trying to push him away, but he acts like you’re not even trying. You can feel it in his grip, the moment he tastes your blood. You’re going to die; you can feel it.

“No!” you cry out, thrashing against his hold.

He stops then, pulling away from your neck with a groan, mouth covered with your blood. You shakily cover the wound, eyes wide as you take him in, breathing deeply with a satisfied smirk on his lips. You shake as the feeling of pain intensifies, the blood running down your still naked chest warm against your cooling skin. You’re terrified, and you know he can see it in your eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he says as he forces you to lean back, long fingers brushing your hair from your face. “You’re gonna thank me for this later, I promise.”

“Am I-am I going to die?”

“Nah,” he laughs, kissing your trembling lips. “You will live forever. We will. Together.”

#all of us are dead #yoon gwi nam #yoon gwinam x reader #gwinam x reader #aouad fanfic #all of us are dead fic #gwi nam x reader

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