#jj x reader smut

[featherandferns]

F.W.B. (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader

content warning: drug use; sex (protected; oral; p in v)

word count: 9k (o god)

Blurb: friends with benefits (phrase) - a friend with whom one has an occasional and casual sexual relationship; no feelings attached.

The first time it happened, it was after a kegger.

Sunset had turned dusk on the beach. There had been the vague smell of smoke from the bonfire, sticking to everyone’s clothes, and beer, liquor and marijuana. Cigarettes and cider. The Boneyard was a free for all: Kooks and Pogues and tourists alike. If you wanted to let lose, maybe have a dance and shotgun a few beers, then you could. If you want to catch-up with your friends, make the most of the summer, then you could. And if you wanted a quick hook-up, be it a fling or otherwise, you could. That was usually the way JJ leaned. It seemed tonight, you had leaned that way too. That was how you had ended up in bed with him.

Now, you balanced on one leg, leaning against his door for support, wrestling on your trainer. You were already dressed.

JJ was watching you from the bed.

“You do this a lot?”

You frowned and looked up from your foot.

“What?”

“Like, do you hook up with people a lot?”

“Why would you ask me that?” you asked, somewhere between offended and confused.

“Just making conversation,” he shrugged.

JJ leant over to grab papers and bud from his bedside table, preparing to roll. His arms flexed when he did. It was already hard to remember how they felt wrapped around you; pulling you closer, tugging you nearer.

“Making conversation by asking if I’m a whore?”

“Woah!” he laughed, meeting your gaze again, wide eyed. “I never said whore!”

“What else could you mean?” you say, going back to tying your shoelaces.

“Just wondering,” he mumbled. When you looked back over, he was concentrating on laying the bud evenly in the papers. Sighing, you stood back on two feet.

“How about you?”

JJ looked up again, brows furrowed in question.

You held back your smirk, putting on an overly sweet, gushing voice as you went, “I bet you get like so many girls, JJ. Oh my God.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, going back to his rolling. “Touché.”

“That’s what I thought,” you grinned.

It was still dark outside. The crickets and owls made a symphony of the banks. Mosquitos hovered around the lamp that was on, having snuck in through the cracked open window. There wasn’t anybody else at the place. You’d followed JJ back to what you assumed was his house about an hour and a half into the kegger. Sighing, you glanced around the room and debated whether to head straight home or go back to the kegger. People would still be hanging around: it wasn’t too late. JJ hadn’t offered for you to stay over and you hadn’t suggested it. You knew that that wasn’t how these things worked. You didn’t mind that.

“You want a hit?” JJ asked, holding up the now finished joint.

You considered him a moment. Bare torso, abs proudly on display, basking in the orange hue from the bedside lamp. Hair messy and damp with sweat from the forehead, which still held a sheen like a freshly waxed board.

“Sure,” you shrugged, taking perch on the foot of the bed.

Crossing one leg under the other, you watched as he lit up and took a long drag. Taking it from him, you did the same, the vapour gently dissipating before your eyes. The smell consumed your senses, the drug slowly taking effect, mellowing you out. Handing it back, you rested back on your arms and took in his room.

“Where’re your parents?”

“Huh?”

“How come you got the place to yourself?” you wondered, looking back to him.

“I don’t. Not really. It’s my friend John B’s place,” JJ said. “I’m just crashing here.”

“John B…John B…Why do I know that name?”

“He goes to the same school as us,” JJ told you. That was something you’d come to learn when you first started talking to him, earlier that night. Gesturing with his free hand to his hair, he added, “brown hair? Kinda long?”

A picture came to mind, of someone you vaguely remembered from one of your classes. The name seemed to match the face well. Angular face and sharp cheekbones. Tanned skin and the strange memory of a bandana, always attached to him one way or another. You nodded.

“Ah, yeah. I remember.”

“We’ve mostly been hanging out here for the summer,” JJ said, taking another hit.

“Doing what?”

“Surfing. Fishing. Odd jobs to fund the necessities.”

With the latter sentence, he smirked and held up the joint. You smiled back.

“So, I’m taking you as a live-by-the-moment sort of guy?”

“I don’t know,” JJ thought. He studied the joint a moment. “I guess I am, yeah. Like a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda guy, I reckon.”

“Ah,” you hummed. When he offered the joint, you gladly accepted, taking another hit.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you a planner?” he wondered.

You took one more hit and handed back the joint. It felt strange, how easy it was to make conversation, and light conversation at that, as if half an hour ago you weren’t as close as two people can get. You didn’t much mind, though.

“Maybe,” you said.

JJ laughed, shifting further up the headboard and messing with his hair. “You always this secretive?”

Giving a small laugh, you shrugged and sighed. “Maybe…”

“Well, I like girls with a bit of mystery,” JJ grinned suggestively.

You chuckled at that. Getting to your feet, heading to his bedroom door, you replied, “don’t get your hopes up, Maybank. I’m not much for commitment.”

“Hell, neither am I,” JJ agreed, almost joyously. He tipped his joint to you as if he were a Victorian gentleman, tipping his hat in farewell. “But I have a feeling I’m gonna see you around.”

Something about that made you pause. You raised a brow as if in challenge. “Oh, you do?”

“Mhm,” he grinned cheekily, tongue pressing against his cheek.

The way he sat, half naked, confident in his skin and his charm: there are few people who hold that sort of aura around them. Noticing this, you began to smirk, eyes narrowing in something akin to suspicion.

“You’re a player, aren’t you? I bet you’ve got hoes.”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t know me like that.”

“Maybe not,” you said, walking towards him again. “But I know guys like you. Yeah, you like the chase. The feeling of getting someone to fall for you, to be weak for you. The thrill it gives.”

“You psychoanalysing me or something, sweetheart?”

“Wouldn’t be much to note,” you replied easily.

“Why don’t you try me on out? I know you wanna be friends,” JJ boldly said.

Licking your lips, you bit back your smile. Hands on your waist, you rocked on your feet in thought. The weed was giving your brain a nice buzz. Paired with the beer from the kegger (that had mostly worn off), it was a pleasant thrum running through your body.

You sighed, as if he’d twisted your arm and glanced around for a pen. When you found one (abandoned on the desk) you walked over to him and began to write on his forearm. He seemed taken off guard at first, before shamelessly looking down your top as you leant over him. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t like there was anything to hide now.

“You didn’t get a good enough look earlier or something?” you mumbled. You clocked his grin in your peripheral.

“If only I could take a picture. Think it’d last longer.”

“In your dreams, Maybank.”

“Every Goddamn night,” he smirked.

You’d be lying if that didn’t stir your stomach in the most delectable of ways. There was a reason why you’d ended up in his bed and not somebody else’s.

Finishing off the last digit, you capped the pen and placed it on his bedside table. Then, you stole the forgotten joint from his fingers and helped yourself to a drag. He watched you, mild surprise written on his face, and then full-on shock as you grabbed his jaw, fingers somewhat firm as you guided his mouth to yours. Exhaling into his mouth, messily falling into a kiss, you smiled as you felt his body go slightly slack under you.

He wasn’t the only one who liked making people feel weak.

Pulling away, you smiled down at him. His lips were still parted, wet from your spit. The image of it stirred something inside you.

“Text me, if you wanna prove me wrong,” you challenged lightly. With that, you gently patted his face, turned and left his bedroom.

You closed the door behind you, leaning against it a moment as you caught up with yourself. 

The smell of weed was weaker out in the hallway. It was also darker, with no moonlight flitting through any windows. Instead, wooden walls, adorned with picture frames. You took the time to passingly inspect them as you went to leave. An older man (bearded and broad) with glasses, and a woman with pale skin and dark, nearly black hair. Another of a man fishing. Several of who you could now confirm was John B, some of which JJ appeared in, alongside a brunette girl and dark-skinned boy. One photo of this consistent gang made you smile. Arms looped over one another’s shoulders, hair wet and body littered with water droplets that twinkled under the sun and camera flash like glitter. Dopey smiles on all their faces. Maybe around thirteen or fourteen. For some reason, the picture stuck around in your head as you left the house, starting your walk home.

The second time it happened, it was after midnight.

“Is this seriously a booty call text?”

JJ was leaning against the doorframe of the porch’s netted fencing. Looking down at you, as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, he glanced at your upheld phone, open on his text message. Your conversation thread was phenomenally short. Impressively short.

You up?

Who is this?

The best sex you’ve ever had.

“Knew it,” he grinned.

You frowned, befuddled. “What?”

“I’m the best sex you’ve ever had,” he sighed casually, stretching his arms out. You finally caught on and immediately rolled your eyes.

“Seriously?”

“How else would you know to come here?”

JJ’s eyes scanned your body, head to toe, then back again. You felt a zip run down your spine, but you didn’t want him to think he was winning. You wanted to hold onto your dignity for a little longer.

“There’s only one person who I’ve hooked up with who’s shameless enough to send a ‘you up’ text,” you told him, beginning up the stairs. “It was pretty easy to figure it was you.”

JJ rolled his eyes and started down the few steps to meet you halfway. Standing over you, blue eyes staring down, he gnawed on his lower lip, slowly letting his smirk shine through.

“Well, it worked. That’s good enough for me.”

His lips on yours was now somewhat familiar. You had a sense for how he kissed. Strong at first, all consuming, and then tender as if he were pulling back, easing off. Then stronger again, possessive even. It was captivating and confusing and messy. When his hands traced around your waist, lower over your ass, cupping just beneath to let his fingers sink into the skin of your thighs, just light enough to avoid bruising, you felt yourself melt into him. Arms looping around his shoulders, tethering around his neck as if threatening to strangle. Grunts and moans and heavy breathing as it all become shamelessly obscene. JJ stumbled up the stairs, tugging you with him, and eventually the two of you were on the porch. He seemed to have a vague idea of where to bring you because soon he was tumbling backwards onto a sofa, and you were being pulled down on top. You chuckled, somewhat breathless, against his lips.

You fingers found his hands that had come up to your waist, scratching at your skin, teasing at your t-shirt. Looping your fingers into his, interlocking them sweetly, you didn’t pull away from the kiss. Not until you took your strength to push his arms above his head, holding them down. You moved to better straddle him, feeling him against your thigh, hard through his shorts.

When he opened his eyes, he looked intoxicated and spent. Wet, swollen lips. Pink cheeked. Muscles straining as you held his arms down. You knew he had the strength to push you off, to break free from your hold, but something about the fact that he hadn’t, that he wasn’t, turned you on even more. The thought made you grind back against him, and you relished in his groan.

“Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

Leaning down again, your lips found the nape of his neck. It began with kisses. Light and sweet, like a child planting dainty pecks on flower petals. Then, you slowly, sensually, and ever so softly, dragged your teeth against the skin. You felt him inhale sharply beneath you. The way the muscle running up his neck tightened, was as if he’d clenched his jaw. You smirked. Working on a hickey or two, you let him free his hands, body almost sighing in relief as he began to touch you again. Your ass, your waist, your legs. Lasciviously coming to your chest, thumbs circling the underside of your breasts. Dragging over your nipples, sensitive through the thin cotton. You moaned against his skin, feeling yourself clench. This was good.

“You wanna take this off for me, pretty girl?”

“You want me to?” you ask back.

“Why’s everything a challenge with you, huh?”

You could hear the grin in his voice, crooning and sensual. Something right out of a fantasy. You leaned back, sitting back on his waist. As you pulled off your top, his hands came to rest on your waist, fingers skimming the skin patiently. Once off, and tossed to the side, you bit your lip as if pretending to suppress your smile, watching as he took you in. You’d once been insecure of your body, the way any girl had, but you felt unashamed to admit that after sleeping with your first boyfriend, that fear went away. They didn’t care what shape you were or what size. The poor suckers are just so glad to be in a position where a girl is willing to sleep with them, that they have no complaints.

That said, the way JJ took you in, hands carefully inching up your body as if teasing you, cupping your tits with just enough pressure to make you sigh, head starting to tilt back to the sky…You felt like the prettiest girl on the planet.

“Jesus Christ, thank God for that kegger,” he mumbled as if in a daze.

You laughed, shaking your head, and then leant down to kiss him again.

From there, no more time was wasted. His shirt joined yours, somewhere on the porch floor, and as the susurrus of the late night-early morning wind rattled the netting, making some wind chimes attached to a far tree sing-out hauntingly, you ended up on your knees on the porch floor between JJ’s parted legs.

The grin that came to JJ’s face when his brain catches up is enough to light up the night sky. But as you go to finish tugging off his boxers, he suddenly sits up.

“Wait.”

Your hands halt on the waistband, eyes flashing up in concern. He’s glancing around, bare chest rising and falling a little more than natural, out of breath from the antics. Then, he’s handing you a couch cushion that he’d somehow found. You take it slowly, confused.

“For your knees,” he explained, nodding down.

You followed his line of gaze and do as he suggested, shifting yourself so your legs were no longer on the splintering floor. It wasn’t that you’d been particularly uncomfortable before, but it certainly felt nicer. There was something weirdly sweet about it and it made you smile.

As if in thanks, you planted a kiss to JJ’s bare inner thigh. Then another, and another, closer and closer. His boxers join the pile and you take your sweet time going down on him.

On the fifth time, it was tryst.

It was a humid night. The air felt thick with moisture, as if warning of rain tomorrow, and you felt like in the chateau it was ten-fold worse. The sex in the air probably didn’t help the clammy feeling that came over you. JJ seemed to notice your discomfort because, once you were clad in your underwear again, he proposed the two of you go outside for a bit.

On the grass outside was a bench, a little old and wobbly. JJ tossed some couch cushions and blankets your way from the porch, and you barely caught them, chuckling. Once the bench was a little comfier, the two of you settled on either end. JJ pulled out a joint, as per tradition, and lit up. The two of you passed it back and forth, telling dumb jokes and proposing dumber philosophies. The conversation eventually died down, as did the craving for weed, and you stretched out your legs onto JJ’s lap, lolling your head back to look at the stars.

The weed made you feel lax and mushy, and you watched as the sky stretched on for miles. Constellations appeared from thin air, twinkles so dainty and brilliant that it put you in a trance. You vaguely registered JJ lifting your right arm, guiding your fingers to his lips. He pressed kisses against them, one by one, and then to your palm. It’s this that caught your attention; your eyes flitting down from the sky to find his already watching you. Against your leg, you feel him harden slightly under his shorts. A part of you considers teasing him about it and cracking a joke, but the thought gets pushed aside. Instead, you shift so he can climb atop. He kissed up your tummy, over your bra covered chest, up your neck, leaving a hickey. You sigh and go pliant like soft clay. Your hands seemed to find home in his hair and you gently rake your fingers through the messy blonde locks. Kisses to your jaw. Cheek. Earlobe. Lips. Then the two of you are making out. It’s different than the other times; there’s no rush to it and no definitive place it will lead to. There just is.

When you eventually broke apart, JJ rested his head on your chest. Your fingers find home in his hair once more, teasing through some nots, beginning to braid some longer strands together. For some reason, you want to ask him why he is always at John B’s house, and never his. You want a real answer. But you don’t. You know it isn’t the time and he won’t tell you. What should it matter anyway? You’re just hooking up. You preferred it that way.

Commitment wasn’t something that came easy to you. There wasn’t anybody to blame, necessarily. Your parents were fine enough and no ex had severely scarred you enough to traumatise you from another relationship. But those relationships had never lasted long. They’d been built on rocky foundations and delipidated rather easily. Maybe that was what put you off. The feeling that it didn’t matter; that it would all end anyway, with their face becoming another blur in the crowd, and their voice a laugh which could be recognised anywhere. That you’d end up alone, and you never understood why.

“What’s your favourite colour?” you asked JJ, trying to find an end to your thought spiel.

“Blue, I think,” he said against you. “Like the water. Kinda mossy blue?”

“Aquamarine?”

“That’s such a dumb word,” JJ sighed. You chuckled.

“Okay, so not aquamarine. How about turquoise?”

“Just blue,” JJ told you. “A very specific blue.”

“Okay, JJ,” you chuckled gently and began to undo one of the braids you’d made.

“What about you?”

“Green,” you say.

“What kind?”

“Forest green. Like…deep, cosy green,” you explained. JJ hummed as if he could picture the colour.

“Nice choice.”

“Why thank you.”

The two of you fell back into silence again, save for the common sounds of the banks. It’s the softest you’ve ever been with one another. Usually, the moment never strayed from sex and flirting. Sometimes the odd word passed back and forth as you got dressed or shared a joint. This was different. You liked it.

“What do you do for fun?” JJ asked.

“I box,” you reply.

“You box?”

“Mhm. I’m on the team at school. Been keeping practise up at the gym throughout the summer,” you say.

JJ shifts so he’s sitting up, and he meets your eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” you laughed. “Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“I dunno,” he said, chuckling a little. “I just had you pegged as a volleyball girl or some shit.”

“Like a tennis girly? With the little skirts and all?”

“You wouldn’t hear me complaining,” JJ couldn’t help but grin, laughing when you shove at his face. “Seriously, though. What kind of boxing?”

“Competitive,” you shrugged.

His eyes look pretty in the moonlight. You’d never really noticed before. It’s then that you realised you’d never properly seen him in daylight or spent time with him when it wasn’t night or dark.

“You on the team, d’you say?”

“Mhm. Second best.”

“Who’s first?”

“This bitch Samantha,” you muttered, making JJ laugh. “It’s not the best team but coach says he might be able to put me up for a scholarship or something.”

“You smart?”

You snorted. “God no. Thick as shit. But, if I can get into college on a scholarship, then it could be my ticket out of this shit hole.”

“You mean you wanna leave this paradise?” JJ joked, gesturing to the water. The falling-apart jetty and the horizon that had yet to warn of morning.

“Paradise on earth,” you mumbled the infamous tagline of the sign.

Sighing, you laid back down. JJ seemed to agree, resting on your stomach, legs tangled with yours.

You’re not sure when you fall asleep, but you know that when you woke up, JJ’s comforting pressure wasn’t on you anymore. When you woke up, you were outside of the chateau, blinking against the morning sun, alone.

By the seventh time, it was a pattern.

It felt like you were seeing flashes of colour.

Clenching your eyes shut, your mouth was hanging open in silent, insurmountable pleasure. You hopelessly grasped around for some kind of purchase: the sheets, the headboard…You feel your hand being guided to someone’s head, and with that you knot your fingers through JJ’s hair. He groans at the pull. Blue. Somewhere inside of your empty lungs you find a moan, falling past your lips. It only spurs him on. Digging your heels into the skin of his back, just below his shoulder blades, you somehow drive him closer. Green. It’s not enough for him to be going down on you. It wouldn’t even be enough to have him in you. You need him in your veins, in your head, passing through every synapse and invading every molecule. You just need him, him, him.

Red.

When you come, it’s with a shuddering, hopeless, sigh of his name. One of his hands comes to splay across your stomach and hip bone, as if you had begun to lift off the bed and he was guiding you back down. The moans turn to whines and whimpers, lips trembling from the afterglow. Eventually, as your thoughts begin to come back to your head, you let out a small laugh, face burning hot. Lifting one hand to rub at your forehead, raking back your hair, you will your eyes open.

“Fuck,” you sigh through a chuckle.

Looking down, you see JJ falling back on his haunches, chest heaving as if he’d ran a marathon. As if he’d been the one being eaten out. The sight of him, wet lips and damp chin, a cocky grin gradually coming through, it makes you clench around nothing, driving your teeth into your lower lip. You coax him down to you by extending out your arm, smiling against the kiss, moaning quietly at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Best you’ve ever had?” he asks against your mouth, barely pulling back.

You swat his face away with a tired laugh.

Since that second night, he’d made a habit of asking you it every time. You’d made a habit in doing anything but to tell him the truth: that yes, he was. Nobody needed a JJ with an ego that big, not even you.

“You got some water or something?” you ask him quietly, flopping against the pillows.

“Sure,” JJ says, getting up.

The bed shifts as he walks away. There’s the faint sound of a tap running from another room. You smile to yourself and close your eyes, sighing. The bed dipping with his weight tells you he’s back, and JJ helps you sit up, handing you the glass.

“Thanks,” you mumble before taking several long gulps. When you’re done downing the water, you look to see JJ holding out a t-shirt for you. You chuckle and take it.

“I gotta pee real quick,” you say, routine as always.

He nods and watches as you get up from the bed, pulling on the t-shirt. It’s his, of course. Says something about Kildare County on the back: proud to be from the homeland. You make the familiar route to the bathroom of the chateau. As you go, you make sure to keep the t-shirt tugged down over your modesty. You and JJ had made a habit of you leaving the bedroom in clothes after the infamous run in with John B. Whoops.

Once done, you wash your hands and brave a glance in the mirror. The sight makes you want to laugh. Hair a mess – unruly and untamed – and some leftover mascara smudged under your lower lash line. Swollen lips, rosy cheeked, the beginnings of a love bite already forming on your neck. You want to laugh as a thought comes to your mind: you look like some common whore. Running the water and digging about in the cupboards, you wet your face and hair, finding a random comb and trying to tame some of the tangles. It’s a little better.

When you leave and head back to JJ’s self-proclaimed bedroom, he’s sat atop of the sheets of the bed, rolling a joint. Now wearing boxers, he sits lent against the headboard, one leg bent and the other extended out leisurely.

Sighing, you collapse in a heap at the foot of the bed. You feel him prod at your waist and you bat him away.

“You good?”

“Mhm.”

“How good?”

“Stop.”

“I’ll just keep asking.”

“I’m not gonna tell you you’re good in bed,” you say to the ceiling. JJ snorts.

“Why not?”

“Cause.”

“Cause?”

“Cause it’ll go to your head,” you tell him. You don’t hear a rebuttal (because he knows you’re right). You turn your head so you can watch him. He lifts the paper to his lips and licks it, sealing it shut. “Sides. I feel like it goes without saying.”

“What does?” JJ asks, now searching for his lighter in the mess that is his bedside table.

“You know what.”

The blank look JJ sends you your way tells you no, he does not. Sighing, you clarify. “The fact that I keep hooking up with you. That speaks for itself.”

When the penny finally drops, JJ’s face twists into the most cocky, proud grin you’ve ever seen, and you immediately want to take it back. You tell him this with a groan, tossing your head back, but he’s laughing and basking in the indirect comment you’ve just given him. The comment that he’s pretty God damn good in bed, to have you falling back in it so many times.

“How come you never ask if you’re any good?” JJ wonders. The flick of a lighter tells you that he found one.

“Cause I know I’m good,” you simply say. “And the fact that you keep inviting me to hook up with you also speaks for itself.”

“Can’t argue with that,” JJ mumbles.

You smell the marijuana the moment he takes a drag. Sweet and crisp and only slightly overwhelming. Leaning down with a groan, you begin to lazily search around for your shorts on the floor. Eventually, somehow, you find them, and from the pocket you dig out your cigarettes. You steal the lighter JJ had used from the quilt and light up, lying on your back once more.

“You shouldn’t smoke those, you know?”

You open one eye and look at him. Exhaling out a breath of smoke, you ask, “are you seriously telling me not to smoke whilst you smoke?”

“Cigs, I mean. Gives you cancer.”

“I’ll be sure to tell the government,” you mumble, taking another drag.

“I’m serious. That shit is gonna kill you.”

You sort of smiled. Opening both eyes now, you take in JJ’s expression. You felt as if you knew him well enough to read his face. Something like concern lingered behind his relaxed demeanour. Sitting up, leaning towards him, you took another drag and exhaled it in his face.

“Well, now you’re gonna die too,” you grin.

JJ wafts it away and shakes his head at you. His smile tells you that he’s not offended. “It’s a good thing you’re hot.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” you fake gasp, hand coming to your chest.

“Wait, I thought that what’s all women were good for? Are you telling me women can do more than just be hot?” JJ plays along, gaping in mock horror.

You chuckle and break the charade. Pulling your knees to your chest, you continue to smoke, as does JJ. The floor is a mess. Piles of clothes – some yours and some his – mixed with shoes and hats and abandoned pairs of swimming trunks, probably still damp as he hadn’t hung them out to dry. Scattered around the room was empty cans and bottles. An empty box of condoms in the paper bin. As they catch your eye, a question comes to you.

“Are we exclusive?”

At first you wonder if JJ even heard you, as he doesn’t reply for a while. When you look over to see if he was off in his own thoughts, he’s watching you, as if you were the one who was supposed to answer.

“I don’t know,” he says noncommittedly.

“Okay, lemme ask it another way,” you mumble, putting out your cigarette on the windowsill ash tray. “Have you slept with anyone apart from me since we started hooking up?”

JJ looks away and out the window, as if he doesn’t want to answer. His jaw clicks tighter. You frown. Things suddenly feel tense, awkward even. It never had been that way between the two of you, not even after the first time you fooled around.

“Jayj?”

“Have you?”

When he asks, he’s looking you in the eyes again. There’s a bite to his words as if he’s proposing a challenge. But you’re not shy to talk about it.

“No,” you shrug. “No point, really.”

“No point?”

“Like, you’re not…terrible,” you eventually settle on, careful to avoid boosting his ego more than you already had that night. “And it’s easy.”

“Easy?”

“Are you gonna repeat everything I say?” you wonder sardonically, quirking a brow.

“Why’re you asking me this?”

“Just wondering,” you say, becoming uncomfortable as his tone seems to harden more and more. “Thought we should know who each other’s seeing and stuff.”

“Why? We use protection, it’s not like there’s any point,” JJ practically grumbles.

“Jesus Christ, it really isn’t that deep,” you half-laugh. You start to wish you hadn’t put out your cigarette.

“It’s not like you’re special or anything.”

And okay, ouch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’re just fucking. You’re good in bed. That’s it,” JJ tells you in an even tone.

You stare at him, waiting for the punchline; waiting for this cold façade to break. It doesn’t. He holds your gaze, unfaltering.

“Seriously?” you ask, voice weaker than you want it to be.

JJ doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes one last hit of his joint before putting it out. Then he’s standing up from the bed.

“It’s late,” he says, looking around his floor. He finds a t-shirt (gives it a sniff and seems to think it’s clean enough) and pulls it on. Then he’s searching again, and you watch as he digs out your clothes, holding them out to you. It takes you a moment to catch on.

“Are you serious?”

JJ shrugs. “It’s late, is all. Not like you were gonna stay over anyway.”

Any humour is gone. You knew you weren’t going to sleep over; you’d only done that once on accident. That wasn’t what offended you. It was the way JJ had gone about it, like you were some nameless chick in his bed who he needed to sneak out before his parents came home…It made you feel dirty. It made you feel used.

Snatching the clothes from him, you get up and begin to change. JJ doesn’t watch. Instead, he kicks about things on his floor in some attempt of tidying. When you’re back in your own clothes, his t-shirt now in your hand, you make a point to toss it on the bed.

“Fuck you, JJ,” you mumble, heading to his bedroom door.

“What?”

“I said fuck you.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” JJ snaps, glaring at you.

Something akin to a laugh comes from your mouth, but there’s a bitterness to your tone. “When you’re man enough to talk, lemme know.”

“Get out of my room,” JJ darkly says.

You shake your head. With a scoff, you tell him, “gladly”, and then you walk out of his room. The tears don’t come until you’re outside the house, as if the sting of the wind sobers you up to the situation.

For the eighth time, it was making up.

The house party some random Pogue had thrown was in full swing. Some Kooks had caught wind, naturally, and decided to join the festivities. For the most part, it was Pogues, with the odd, innocent tourist mixed amongst the lot. JJ liked it that way. He felt like he was amongst his people; could let his guard down more.

Kiara was sat outside on a porch swing with Pope, the two seemingly in light conversation. JJ wandered over with a beer in hand and snuck up behind the dark-haired girl. He grinned to himself as he suddenly grabbed her shoulder, shouting in her ear. She let out a yelp, swatting at him as he started laughing. Pope rolled his eyes, also a little spooked, and JJ gave a half-hearted apology through his laughs. He sat between the pair on the swing, encouraging it to rock with his heels dug into the dirt.

“How many are you on?” Pope asked, nodding down to the can.

JJ shrugged. “Who cares? It’s a party.”

“So this has nothing to do with you and your lover having trouble in paradise?” Kie wondered, voice teasing.

JJ rolled his eyes and took a swig. “She’s not my ‘lover’.”

“Hook-up?”

“Bed-pal?”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Alright, alright,” JJ groaned, waving away their synonyms. “Hilarious, guys.”

“What happened with that? I thought you two were hitting it off,” Pope said soberly.

“We were, I guess,” JJ admitted. He looked out to the garden with a sigh and then took another drink. “Doesn’t matter, though. It’s done now.”

“Done?”

“The ‘best sex you’ve ever had’ is just done?” Kie checked.

“Yep,” JJ said, flashing her what he hoped was an unbothered grin. He held up his can as if in cheers. “Use them and lose them, is what I say.”

“JJ—”

“No commitment, no sha-mittment.”

“Wise words, Aristotle,” Pope mumbled.

JJ finished his can in several large gulps and crushed it beneath his grip.

“Need a refill,” he announced. He staggered to his feet, swaying when he stood. He could see Kie’s concerned gaze from his peripheral and pointed at her - just. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’ll be sure to have the ambulance on standby,” Pope assured sarcastically, watching JJ walk away. He kindly flipped them off as he went.

“Assholes,” he muttered to himself.

The world was dragging, taking too long to catch up with him, and he struggled to find the kitchen. Had someone moved it? What the hell?

When he found himself in a hallway which he hadn’t yet been in, JJ knew he was both lost and hammered. Whoops.

“JJ?”

He spun around, blinking slowly and rapidly, all at once.

It was you, stood in a sundress, worn down with a grey zipper cardigan and trainers. You frowned at him.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

“How much have you had?”

“Just a couple,” JJ said, shrugging. “What’s it to you?”

“It…isn’t,” you say, looking off.

JJ suddenly panics - scared you’re going to walk away - and he finds himself grabbing for your wrist. You make a move as if you’re going to take it from his grip, but then you don’t. He aimlessly guides you into a quieter room, where the music isn’t so blaring and the chatter of others doesn’t bounce of the walls. It happens to be a bathroom.

He locks the door and spins around, immediately feeling green.

“You okay?” you tentatively ask.

JJ nods, but that only makes it worse, and in a matter of seconds he’s darting for the toilet.

There’s something so wonderfully humiliating about throwing up.

“It’s alright,” you say, rubbing his back. He feels the weight of your hand move up and down against his damp t-shirt. JJ cringes into the toilet. So. Embarrassing.

“Sorry,” he gasps, preparing for more to come.

“You don’t gotta be sorry,” you mumble.

He hears you shift around and notices as you sit down, back against the wall. You’ve taken your hand from his back and instead have placed it in his hair, rubbing his scalp soothingly.

“Feel better?”

“Maybe,” he sighs. You nod and lift your arm to flush the toilet.

After a few more bouts of vomit, JJ’s sure there’s nothing left. He leans his cheek against the seat of the toilet, the porcelain cold on his skin, and watches as you get up and head to the sink. You find an abandoned solo cup and rinse it out, filling it with water and offering it to him.

“Here,” you say. He drinks.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to help.”

“Sure I did. If you died, I would’ve been the last person to see you alive,” you tell him, making him laugh.

“Nice to know your heart’s in the right place.”

“You don’t sound so drunk now,” you say.

“Thanks,” he repeats, less grateful.

He sighs and sits up, leaning against the bathroom wall. The room’s spinning less. His ears aren’t rining as badly. There are the remnants of booze blurring the lines between what he wants to say and what he doesn’t.

Someone tries the door and you yell at them to leave. JJ’s never heard you yell before. It sounds unnatural.

“I’m sorry for the other night.”

His eyes shoot open.

Looking to you, wondering if he misheard, he finds you’re already watching him. You’re fiddling with your knuckles, picking at some scabbing, probably the aftermath of training. He still can’t wrap his head around the fact that you box. You’ve always had an edge to you but picturing you fighting someone…The thought was sexy as hell, he was unashamed to admit.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, as if worried he hadn’t heard, and he comes back to reality.

“About what?”

“About the other night. About asking if we’re exclusive. Like you even owe me that sort of explanation,” you say. “We had a good thing going. It worked for both of us, and I messed it up.”

JJ doesn’t say anything. You sigh, taking his silence as space to continue, and you look down to watch your handiwork as you go on.

“I’m not great at relationships. I mean, I don’t think I am. Every single one that I’ve been in ends up in flames, so…Not the best track record.”

JJ watches as you sigh again, tossing your head back to stare at the ceiling. Your throat is empty of love bites and it looks foreign.

“I try my best in them. Try to be the good girlfriend. Fun and unassuming and pretty and funny. Present and thoughtful. I think I’m doing a good job, and then…Boom. Another one in the shitter. Guess I’m just the common denominator.”

“Denominator?”

“I’m the common thread,” you clarify, looking to him again. You shrug. “But, all cards on the table, I felt like I didn’t have to try with you. I never felt like I was needing to put on a show or think about things as much. Maybe it was because we were only hooking up, but there was never any pressure to be the better version of me. Maybe there is no better version of me. Maybe I just…am.”

JJ stares at you for a minute and you seem to hear back what you’ve said, cause then you’re cupping your face and laughing, embarrassed.

“God, that was so cringey,” you chuckle beratingly. “I promise I’m not high.”

“It wasn’t cringey,” JJ tells you.

Your laughter dies down. You don’t make a move to remove your face from your hands, though. It’s easier for JJ that way, to tell you the truth without having you watch him. If you can lay all your cards out, then so can he. Thank God for vodka, he thinks.

“My mum and dad weren’t the best role models,” JJ admits, clearing his throat. It feels raw after throwing up. “She dipped and my dad’s…a mess. It’s a lot and I won’t bore you with it all but…I just don’t do well with relationships. I barely do well with friendships. Half the time I wonder why my friends hang around with me, and the other half I spend wondering when they’re gonna leave. When they’re gonna realise that I’m nothing special, or important.”

“JJ,” you whisper, going to lift your head. JJ panics and dumbly shoves your face back into your palms. You let out a bark of laughter, and then start nodding as if in understanding. “Okay. Go on.”

JJ takes a breath, removing his hand from your hair.

“I hook-up with people cause it’s easy and there’s no strings and all that crap, and it makes me feel good. But you’re different to the other people I’ve slept with. You’re funny and witty and would say these really nice things out of the blue. You’d do nice things, too. Like when you made me mac and cheese one time after we’d fooled around cause I said I’d been craving it for days. Nobody’s ever really done anything like that for me. I wasn’t sure how to react.”

Here it comes – crawling up his throat. The thing he was terrified to admit. The thing he was so scared to tell you, that he threw whatever thing you had going down the drain, and then apparently let you believe that it was you that steered them off the road.

“We were exclusive. I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else when I was with you.”

JJ doesn’t give you time to react or respond. The words are falling out of him now.

“I didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want you to leave, and it freaked me out cause I’ve never felt like that with a girl before. All my God damn thoughts were about you, like I was brainwashed. Fuck – they still are! It’s like I wake up and think about it. Think about what you’re doing and where you are. Think about getting you off. Think about how you looked when I told you to leave. How fucking scummy that was of me.

But I got scared. I got scared when you asked me cause it meant we’d have to actually acknowledge that there was something more there, and that things would change, and that terrifies the shit out of me because when things change, it’s usually for the worst. You’d see the real me and my life and learn about all my shit, and you’ll see that I’m nothing good. And I just start thinking about when it’s gonna end. How I’m gonna mess it up, cause I always do.”

He catches his breath. The words hang heavy in the air. JJ stares at you. You still have your face in your hands.

He leans back against the wall and looks down at his fingers, twisting some of his rings. He slowly lets out a breath, pressing his eyes shut.

“Sorry. That was a lot.”

Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

“Can I look up now?”

JJ can’t help but laugh. Looking to you, he quietly tells you, “Yes, you can look up now.”

When you do, JJ immediately spots the tears on your cheeks. His heart clenches. It’s a new feeling. Strange and unpleasant, though not for the reasons he thought it would be.  

“Not everyone leaves, JJ,” you say, wiping your face.

He shrugs.

“I mean it,” you affirm. He sees when an idea comes to mind, your beautiful face lighting up. “There’s this song I like. I guess it’s spoken poetry. It’s called Sunscreen. In the song, the guy says something. He says, ‘accept that some friends will come and go, but hold on to a precious few.’”

JJ frowns, unsure where you’re heading.

“And whilst I agree that you yourself have to hold on, there’s also the other person holding on for you. Sticking their feet in and telling you that they’re not gonna leave when things get just a bit tough. I mean, I feel like you and John B have been friends for ages. One of the pictures in the chateau is of you guys really young.”

“Since the third grade,” JJ quietly says.

Smiling back, you take a breath then say, “I can’t promise you that everyone’ll stay, but I can promise you that I want to. I want to stay, with you. I want to know all the ugly things and I want you to know the ugly things about me. Nobody’s whole and nobody’s perfect, and everybody’s shit scared of opening themselves up because the moment you do, you can get hurt. But sometimes to live, I think you’ve gotta get a bit hurt. So, I want to stay, but only if you want to me to.”

JJ slowly began to smile.

He did. He wanted you to stay. He wanted you to meet his friends and to watch him surf. He wanted to have you stay over and have the balls to be there when you woke up. He wanted to see you in the morning, eating breakfast, and after sex, spent and tired. He wanted to watch you train and box, and cheer you on and kiss the bruises. He wanted to know the things you hid about yourself, and the things that made you somehow imperfect. He wanted your smile and your dumb jokes and the way you like to have the control, the way you fight him for it. He wanted the way you made him feel and the reassurance just your company brought, that somebody wanted him too.

JJ wanted you.

“I want you to stay,” he said. He swallowed and smiled, properly. “I want you to stay with me.”

Your face glowed with your smile. Crinkles by your eyes and a slight girlish giddiness as you quietly laugh down at your hands, bashful all of a sudden. Bashful like you didn’t know that his dying wish was to be baptised in your spit. Like you didn’t get off on being on top; of having him weak under your spell.

“If I hadn’t just thrown up, I’d fuck you right now, right here,” JJ says.

You bark out a laugh, tossing your head back before smiling at him. “Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna toss me out on the streets after like a hooker?” you risk in a joke.

JJ rolls his eyes and tries to shove away the shame he feels for doing that. He knows it’s in the past now. Can tell by the way you bite your lip through your smile.

“Shut up.”

“Wow. Incredible come back,” you push. He laughs, shaking his head.

“I’m serious. Shut up.”

“Make me.”

The look in your eye becomes almost dark. There’s a quirk to your smile that makes his stomach clench and shrink. He gnaws on his lip. Somehow dragging his eyes from yours, he looks to the bathroom sink and cupboard. He forces himself to his feet and tugs it open, looking around for something – anything – that’ll get rid of the vomit taste stuck on his tongue. A toothbrush. Fuck yes. Maybe God doesn’t hate him after all. When you catch on to what he’s doing, you start to laugh. He quickly brushes his teeth and tongue, rinsing out his mouth.

“Seriously? Guys and their dicks, Jesus.”

“Shut up,” he gurgles, pointing at you with the brush. You laugh harder and JJ can’t help but smile. The best goddamn laugh.

Spitting out, he wipes his mouth, tosses the toothbrush to the side, grabs your hands and tugs you up to your feet. His lips are on yours in a second, clumsy and frantic, and your laughter doesn’t die off immediately. It does when he picks you up, lifting you onto the sink. You gasp against his mouth, somewhat caught off guard. Hands wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair, JJ feels as you wrap his legs around his waist and tug him closer.

“Fuck,” he sighs, pulling back. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavy. You open your eyes slowly and smile, sweet. You’re so sweet. “I missed this.”

“Damn right you did,” you smirk.

There you are.

As you start making out again, there’s something deeper at play. His hands move to your thighs, working up your sundress, and your fingers tug at his hair in the most delicious way. He groans against you. He’s hard and desperate and horny and still somehow a little tipsy. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Everything about this is just…

“You gonna eat me out or what?”

The words, whispered right down his ear…JJ’s surprised he doesn’t come on the spot. Somehow, he finds his control, enough so to reply, “didn’t anybody teach you manners, princess?”

When you kiss, it’s teeth and tongue, and dirty and messy, and fucking delectable. JJ begins down your neck, over your chest, finding enough space on your collar bone to suck a love bite. It was driving him crazy, seeing your skin unmarked. You shrug off your cardigan and lean back a little, hands scrambling to not slip on the damp sink’s porcelain. You watch him as he makes his way to his knees, shoving up your skirt, and lift yourself off the edge of the sink enough for him to slide your panties down your legs.

“You’re so pretty,” you tell him in a pant.

JJ’s eyes glance up to meet yours. Sees the way your teeth are sunk into your lower lip, a small smile adorning your flushed face. The beginnings of a love bite forming already. It’s the feeling of one of your feet digging into his shoulder blade, urging him to you, that spurs him on.

He takes his time eating you out. Savours the moans and bathes in your whimpers. The sinful sweetness of you on his tongue. His fingers dig into the skin of your thighs, trying to find some self-control. They’ll probably bruise. It’s a nice thought. It’s ephemeral, over too soon; you come with a near-silent moan, ankles locking around him, holding him against you. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

“JJ,” you sigh, sounding desperate. He feels you shift and falls back on his haunches, wiping at his face. Licking his lips. Closing his eyes, he tries to level himself. He has to make it last, at least just a little longer.

The feeling of your hand prying at his shirt has him coming back to reality. JJ looks up at you, panting a little, and smiles lazily at the fucked-out look on your face. He helps you pull him to his feet, kissing you the moment he’s standing above you, smirking as he hears you moan from your own taste. You’re fucking filthy. And it’s only for him. The thought makes him desperate to fuck you.

It seems your mind is on the same track because your fingers start fumbling with his short’s zipper. He pulls away to help you tug them off, dragging his boxers with them.

“You got anything?” you ask, voice no more than a breath.

JJ scrambles through his thoughts and nods, shoving a hand through his damp hair and grabbing for his wallet; digging about with shaking hands, retrieving a condom. You take it from him and open it - giggling in a way that’s too sweet for the salaciousness of the moment - and put it on him, rubbing for longer than you need to. Somehow, he forces your hand from him.

“Can’t do that or I’m not gonna last,” he breathlessly chuckles before pressing a kiss to your lips.

Your arms loop back around his neck, tongue slipping into his mouth, and JJ’s hands slip under your legs and pull you to sit on the very edge of the sink.

The moment he sinks into you, both of you sigh against one another, body’s singing as if in reverence. The sex is rough and rushed and rapturous. Your head rests on his shoulder and your moans fall straight into his ear, as if coming straight from God’s mouth.

And once again, it’s all over too soon. You finish first, JJ soon after, gasping against your shoulder, damp and clammy with sweat. As he fucks you both through it, slowly coming to a stop, your fingers thread gently through his hair, rubbing soothingly at his scalp. He rests in you for a while. The two of you slowly catch your breath, arms tangled around one another, a head on the other’s shoulder.

You’re the first to move, and you do so only enough to kiss him. Tender now. Almost loving. JJ sighs into it, stroking your back gently. The thought of having you near again…It’s almost like he has air back in his lungs. It’s a strange feeling, a bizarre and new one, but JJ’s no longer scared of it like he was before. How can he be when you’re right there with him?

Breaking apart, your foreheads rest against one another, and JJ braves opening his eyes. You’re already looking at him. The two of you smile at the same time, and you begin to laugh.

“Not bad, huh?”

JJ grins.

“Best you’ve ever had?”

“Oh shut up.”

[pumpk1n-writes]

Strike a Match

➥ in which the reader is scared of the dark and JJ comes up with an idea to help distract them {ft. established relationship, fingering, little bit of fluff, nyctophobia, JJ being his adorably cocky self, praise, hair pulling, marking, no use of y/n because it makes me want to scratch my eyes out, use of love and darling}

Requested ~ yes / no | Word Count ~ 607

Taglist ~ @wasawattpadkid

The media you consume is your own responsibility and I will not be held accountable for your choices. I’m not going to block minors from this account, but proceed with caution anyway.

You could feel the darkness pressing in around you like a vice, filling your lungs and shooting down your throat. You clutched JJ’s hand tighter, afraid of somehow slipping away into the unrelenting shadows. He drew you in closer to his chest, wrapping his arms tighter around your shoulders.

“Shh, darling, it’s alright,” he stroked your cheek with one hand, speaking softly. “The power will be back on soon. It’s okay.”

You screwed your eyes shut against the darkness, drawing yourself up closer to him. He gently took your face into his hands, kissing your tears away. He placed his hand over the side of your throat, feeling your erratic heartbeat.

“Darling?”

“Hmm?” You could barely speak over the panic rising in your ears. You could practically feel hands reaching out, brushing against your legs, bumping against your arms.

“Will you let me try to distract you?”

You only had an inkling of what he meant, and you couldn’t lie to yourself, it excited you. You nodded meekly, and he grinned against the lobe of your ear. His hand slowly trailed down your stomach, ending between your legs. He gently nipped your ear, kissing and biting his way to your jawline.

You whimpered, your fear already nearly forgotten as you unconsciously chased his fleeting touch with your hips. He chuckled lowly, breath tickling your ear, the hand previously against your throat tangling into your hair and dragging your head back to lay against he shoulder. His mouth and teeth moved down your neck and left marks and bruises.

You whimpered against him as he gently took off your (his) shirt, letting his fingernails scratch against your skin on their way up your torso. Every action he made was gentle, soft, and loving. You were certain that if you slightly moved your head to stare into his eyes, you would find the same gentleness, the same softness, the same overwhelming love that he gave you every time he saw your body. Every time he saw you without the barrier of your clothes was like his first, every time he showered you with the same worship as the very first time he laid eyes on you.

“You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispered against your throat. “And I get you all to myself.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, he slipped your shorts and panties down your legs, tossing them into the same void your shirt disappeared to. He dipped his hand between your legs, biting down on your shoulder when you whimpered loudly. “Already so wet f’me, darling.”

JJ slipped the tip of one of his fingers into you, smirking against your skin at your small whines and pants. He slipped another finger in, curling them just right and dragging them out. You weren’t left empty for long, however, as he quickly slid them back into your core. He seemed mesmerized, unable to tear his eyes away from how easily his fingers disappeared into you. You reached back, lightly scratching his scalp and threading his hair in your fingers. His breath caught in his throat and with an obviously tremendous amount of effort he dragged his gaze away from his fingers to your face.

“Are you distracted yet, love?” He smirked at you, reveling in the light dusting of pink across your cheeks.

“What?” You breathed, already barely able to think with just two of his fingers. He curled them again, drawing pornographic moans from your throat. You could feel yourself coming undone, and when he swiped his thumb over your clit you groaned and melted impossibly further into his chest.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[l0caltiredgirl]

when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

[rafesmuse]

obx porn links vol. 2 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

warning: 18+ only. these are twitter links that contain porn videos. these are not fics.

nav. // main m.list // blurbs m.list // vol. 1 + vol. 3

— JJ MAYBANK

reverse cowgirl with jj outside

jj sucking and admiring your tits

dom!jj spanking you

giving boyfriend!jj a blowjob

doggystyle with best friend!jj

jj showing you how strong he is

riding roommate!jj in your room

jj fucking you while you’re wearing his shirt

helping jj relax after a long day

enemy!jj fucking you at a party

jj fucking you hard from behind

— RAFE CAMERON

missionary with boyfriend!rafe

ghostface!rafe sneaking into your room and fucking you

dom!rafe punishing you

rafe eating you out after a stressful day

morning sex with rafe

enemy!rafe fingering and choking you

shower sex with rafe

rafe fucking you on his yacht

study sessions with best friend!rafe

rafe admiring your body

riding rafe in his truck

neighbour!rafe fucking you in his bed

[sageworld]

there’s just something about bestfriend!rafe who’s just obsessed with your boobs…

“stop it, rafey.” you giggle, making it look not purposeful when you bend over, pushing your plush ass into him in a weak attempt to get him away.

“come on, sweetness just one picture.” he begged. you and rafe had gotten pretty fucked up last night at toppers, resulting in you just sleeping at his house in whatever you had left there. “fine, but you can’t show anyone.” you pretend to be annoyed, but rafe can see right through it.

you were always weak when it came to rafe, always giving into his needs. he wanted a beer at the party? you were coming back within minutes. he wanted a blow job? you bet your fat lips were wrapped around his cock the second you got alone. you knew it was wrong, he was your bestfriend and many times you scared off his girlfriends and vice versa. the two of you constantly fucked like bunnies no matter what the conditions were.

“deal.” rafe smiled pulling down your top, exposing both of your large breasts he had grown to love so much. “there’s my girls.” rafe smiled and bent down to kiss both of your hard nipples.

“just one rafey.” you pulled one tit back into the top as rafe sat his phone up, muttering something about boring. “well if i’m so boring you can just never see them again” you tease, attempting to pull your other boob back into your top. “no no no no i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it, one is great.” rafe yanked the top down.

you pose into the camera, one of rafe’s large hands covering your exposed boob, giving it a nice squeeze. “you’re like a little sex doll.” rafe says randomly. “what?” you laugh, after the photos taken, pulling away from him. “i don’t know you’re just like a sex doll, you look like one.” he somewhat chuckles towards the end, pulling your top down to expose your other breast again.

“thanks? i guess.” you embrace rafes new hold on you with a giggle. both hands grabbing handfuls of your ass, as he leans down to suck your nipples.

just know he made that picture his lock screen.

[sleepyangelkami]

smut's fun. have you ever read soul crushing, heart aching, head throbbing comfort that makes your eyes burn out of your head to the point where you just have to crawl into a ball because your inner child feels so safe? haha... yeah smuts fun.

[eternalbuckley]

OUTER BANKS PORN LINKS.

characters: rafe, jj, sarah

warnings: 18+ only. minors dni. the following links are twitter links to porn videos, not fics. please keep that in mind. the videos contain fem / afab people.

a/n: since some of you wanted that i make a list of my current favourite porn videos… here are a few with some scenarios involved 🤓 enjoy babes!!

links are under the cut!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know! reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and welcomed!

navigation | masterlists

RAFE CAMERON

› bestfriend!rafe fucking you from behind.

› roommate!rafe fingering you in his bed.

› enemie!rafe choking you while he pounds into you.

› rafe using a knife to scrape off wax from your body. [wax play & knife kink warning]

› riding rafes dick and him breeding you.

› rafe eating you out while you sit on his face.

JJ MAYBANK

› enemie!jj breeding you.

› jj fingering you.

› jj licking your nipples.

› enemie!jj fucking you from behind while you‘re handcuffed.

› giving bestfriend!jj a handjob.

› jj pounding into you while you‘re on top.

SARAH CAMERON

› secretgirlfriend!sarah eating you out after a stressful day.

› fucking sarah with a strap on.

› eating sarah out after a party.

› dom!sarah not letting you cum.

› rubbing bestfriend!sarahs clit.

› using a vibrator on sub!sarah. [a small whip is used a few times for spanking as well]

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

[princessmaybank]

Outer Banks P!Links PT2

Here's Part 1: P!Links

*Once again: I'm aware some of them look nothing like them, but that's okay, it's all for fun*

WARNINGS: MDNI, THIS IS 18+, PORN LINKS

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

~A lot more than last time! Please enjoy! I didn't check to see which was already used, so I'm sorry if there are repeats from the last post!~

JJ:

Him Pounding Into You

Riding JJ While He Plays With Your Tits

Soft Fuck With JJ

Jacking Him Off

Teasing Him With Your Pussy

Riding Tatted JJ

69 Tatted JJ

4 Fingers

Oral And Riding By The Pool

Wants To Try Something From Your Book

Rubbing Your Pussy

Rafe:

Tatted Rafe POV

Cumming On Your Stomach

Hitting It From Behind

Riding Him

Gently Playing With You

Fucking You Outside

Fingering Then Fucking You

Slapping Your Pussy On The Way To Midsummers

Rubbing You Until You Can't Take It

Bent Over His Lap

Anal By The Pool

John B:

Sucking His Dick In The Twinkie

Playing With You

Couldn't Resist You

Having Some Fun With Kiara

Parking Garage Fun

Tatted JB, Playing With Each Other

Making A Mess In Your Panties

Using His Dick While He Plays His Game

Sitting On His Face By The Pool

Upside Down 69

Dicking You Down While JJ Drives

Pope:

Tatted Pope, Waking You Up

Bouncing On His Dick

He Asked For A Handjob

Jacking Him Off Then Riding Him

Under His Desk While He Studies

Fucks You In Your PJ's

Bouncing You Back

Tatted Pope Fucking You On The Counter

Anal From The Back

School Girl Fantasy

Riding Pope On The Couch

Bonus:

Kiara Eating You Out

Eating Out Tatted Cleo

Tribbing With Sarah

Tatted JJ & Rafe Sharing You

Playing With Sarah's Pussy

[featherandferns]

angel (fic)

jj maybank x fem!shy!kook!reader | technically the sequel for fascinating new thing, but can be read as a stand-alone too

content warning: pure filth, to be honest; sex (f and m self-pleasure; protected, p in v)

word count: 3k

Blurb: jj knows there's something hidden beneath all the layers of quiet and meek; he just has to coax it out of you.

Nobody expected JJ Maybank to end-up having a thing for you, including JJ himself. He couldn’t explain how it happened, or when exactly, but it went from him being somewhat wary of you to completely desperate to have your gaze on him. It seemed that one day you just had him: hook, line and sinker. JJ had sort of accepted that he didn’t have a chance, especially with a certain ginger haired boy lingering in the background. He’d admire from afar and settle for friendship if that’s all you could offer him. But then you kissed him, and everything seemed to fall into place. JJ was allowed privy to your thoughts and the different facets of yourself: watching you song write and waking you from a nightmare and indulging in the late-night baking. He liked every part of it. Everything that was you.

Well, almost everything.

“You can’t seriously enjoy this crap?”

“Be quiet, please,” you mumble.

JJ rolls his eyes. He has one arm under his head, propping it up so he can see the screen of your laptop, and the other on your stomach, resting atop your tee shirt. He’s spooning you, cosy under the sheets of your bed.

It’s the second time he’s been in your bedroom. It’s a nice room; perfectly encapsulates you. Vinyl records and CDs and a million and one potted plants and succulents. Fairly lights draped above your bed and around a pinboard of pictures and keepsakes, shining a delicate golden hue on your belongings. An acoustic guitar rests against the wall by your bedroom door. It’s wide open right now. No need to have it shut; your parents aren’t home.

Looking back to the screen, JJ tries and fails to hold in a sigh.

“Can you be quiet, please?” you repeat.

“Who is that? The guy?”

“George the third.”

“The third? Is that the one that murdered all his wives?”

“JJ, I can’t hear it,” you complain quietly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He barely pays attention to the drama on the screen, too busy foraging through his brains for the history of English royals. “Is he though?”

You sigh, annoyed. “No. That’s Henry the Eighth. And he didn’t murder all of them. Just two.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay then,” JJ sarcastically replies.

For some reason, he feels as though you’ve rolled your eyes. He attempts to watch the show that you’ve become obsessed with lately. The characters don’t talk like normal people. Everything is so flowery and over-the-top that he hardly understands what they’re talking about. It’s boring and dull and overdramatic. He lets his mind wander.

“Baby?”

“JJ?”

“Just a quick question.”

“Yes?” you sigh, patience clearly dwindling.

“Is George the Third the one that got really fat?”

“No, that’s George the fourth,” you say.

“Which one’s George the third then?”

“George the third is the one that was ruler when America won its independence. I mean, do you listen to anything in history?” you chuckle. JJ feels the muscles in your belly tighten and loosen as you do.

“Sometimes,” he shrugs. “When it’s interesting. Like, I don’t get how all of this—”

“Shush! I can’t hear what they’re saying!” you snap.

JJ can’t help but snigger. He likes when you lose your temper with him; let the good-girl side of you slip for a moment to put him in his place.

He nuzzles his face into your hair. It smells like cedarwood and salt water. Maybe he’ll just have a nap. You’re not coming away from the show anytime soon – not until the episode’s done, anyway. JJ closes his eyes and vaguely tunes into the droning of dialogue. Lady this and sire that. He’s just about to properly drift off (maybe it’s been five minutes or so) when he’s woken by the feel of you pushing back against his groin. His hold tightens on your stomach and he reluctantly inches his body away slightly.

“Baby don’t do that,” he mumbles sleepily into your hair.

“Do what?” you reply, absentmindedly.

You’re still watching the Goddamn show. He’s not sure if you’re playing dumb or not.

Then, you do it again.

JJ inhales sharply. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Rubbing up on me like that,” he tells you, half-laughing. “S’not fair.”

“Sorry,” you mumble.

He opens his eyes and looks down at the laptop screen. The moment he makes out what’s happening in the show, it clicks. Oh.

Smirking, JJ can’t keep from taking the piss.

“You didn’t tell me that you’re into regency era porn.”

“Shut up,” you reply all too quickly.

“Is it like all royal era stuff or just Henry the third things?”

“George the third!”

“Tomata-tomato,” JJ mutters. Quiet. Then: “Does it have to be in a bathtub or…”

“JJ!” you whine, embarrassed. He laughs into your hair. “Stop it!”

“Alright, alright! I’m just messing around,” he sniggers.

You don’t reply, don’t even seem to be listening to him, with your eyes shamelessly fixated on the screen. JJ starts to watch too, half-curious as to what has you so entranced.

The lighting is dark. Who JJ has finally come to grasp as king George the third is fucking his wife in the bath. She’s riding him, grinding down on him, still in her dress. The music swells with sharp, dramatic violins. This time, when you push back reflexively against JJ, he doesn’t complain. Instead, he uses his hand that’s placed on your stomach to keep you there. He’s only half ashamed to admit that he’s turned on by the regency-era-sex-scene from your corny, cheesy TV show.

Half hard, he rubs against you, sighing into your hair as he does. You don’t shake him off. Instead, you push back against him.

And then, the scene stops. It’s daylight. Cutting to a scene in a conservatory.

JJ shifts his hand so it’s under your tee shirt, moving to stroke at the skin. He feels your stomach constrict underneath his touch, as if you’re holding your breath, and then relax. He places a kiss to your neck, then another, and begins to work on a hickey. You let out a shaking breath, eyes only half-focused on the show, now. One of your hands comes down to lay atop of his, though not in discouragement. JJ can’t help but rut against you again. In the haze of kissing at your throat, he finds himself wishing a silent prayer that you won’t pull away this time.

He doesn’t mind waiting. Really, he doesn’t. He’d probably wait forever for you (if he really had to). He knows how nervous you get; knows all of this is new to you. Understands. Doesn’t want you to feel pressured. But, God, JJ would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to fuck you. That he didn’t jack off almost every night to the thought of it. That seeing you, drenched head to toe, stood in nothing but a bikini after surfing didn’t have him shifting in his seat. That having you pressing up against him like you had been tonight didn’t make his mind shoot off to the darkest, dirtiest places. So, yes, he’ll stop if you ask, but he’s praying, borderline close to begging, that you don’t.

Your fingers loop into his hair, pulling him off your neck. He shifts enough back so you can turn your head, meeting his eyes. Your breathing heavier than usual, lips wet as if you’ve been licking at them. Your eyes are dancing over his face, back to his eyes, glancing at his lips. JJ’s hand on your stomach continues scratching softly at your skin. He gently rubs himself against you. Please.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whisper. There’s a tinge of nerves to your voice.

JJ nods. Swallows. “I know.”

“But…I want to,” you quietly say. A smile teasing at the corner of your lips as you nod. “If you do, that is.”

JJ leans down so his forehead bumps against yours. He exhales a chuckle against your lips. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since the hammock.”

You giggle, perhaps a little stunned at the confession, and then your lips are on his.

JJ’s rolling onto his back, sighing into the kiss, pulling you atop of him. His hand that was under his head now reaches out to close the laptop, shoving it to the foot of the bed (hopefully where it won’t fall off). Then he’s kissing you with newfound hunger. Tongue slipping into your mouth lewdly, brushing against yours, swallowing your sighs and breaths. Whenever you break apart, it’s for less than a moment. Your hands have come up to cradle his face, fingers splayed across his cheek and jaw. One of his resides on your waist, squeezing at the skin, and his other has fallen onto your bare thigh; the pyjama shorts you’re wearing having ridden up.

When you lean back against him, rolling down on his crotch, JJ groans against your lips. The gasp you let out is small, startled, as you feel him, hard against you.

“We don’t have to,” JJ reminds you, though the id in him is crying out yes, we do. Please.

You shake your head, hands still on his face. “I want to.”

Thank fucking God.

As the two of begin to kiss again, JJ lets his hand creep up your stomach. His fingers gently trace up the soft skin. He feels the ripples of your breaths as he goes; they’re uneven. Bringing his hand up to your chest, cupping at the bare skin, you sigh against him. He begins to tenderly palm at your breast, running a finger back and forth over your nipple, grinning to himself as he feels it harden at his touch.

You’re grinding back on him now, making him uncomfortably hard under his boxers, sensitive as he rubs against the fabric. JJ opens his eyes to look up at you, your kiss naturally breaking as you begin to breath more and more heavy. Frowns as he sees you dig your teeth into your lower lip. He lifts his hand from off your thigh to bring his thumb to your lips, tugging it free.

“I wanna hear you,” JJ mumbles, tone only slightly demanding.

You open your eyes. They’re angel-like; innocent and shining under the fairy-light glow. Then, you do something that has him twitching, horny past the point of no return. You take his thumb into your mouth and suckle at his finger. JJ groans at the sight. Jesus Christ. Something in you seems to shine through and take control. You don’t say anything as you hold his hand in both of yours, guiding his thumb out your mouth only to begin sucking on his pointer finger. Your eyes slip shut as you do, as if you’re getting off on doing so, and you sigh out a quiet moan. JJ feels himself begin to smirk, taken aback somewhat. Okay…

Pulling his finger from out of your mouth tentatively, he lets his thumb pinch at your chin. The dampness of your spit streaks onto your skin, if only slightly. JJ suddenly knows what his new favourite thought of you is. Your chest is rising and falling, lips parted, cheeks warm as if there’s a part of you longing to be embarrassed. But you’re not. Not shying away from him, at least. JJ’s hands find the hem of your shirt and coax it over your head. As he goes, he guides you to lie down on your back – head at the foot of the bed – and crawls on top of you. One of your feet hesitantly rubs at the back of his calve. Then your fingers are tugging at the bottom of his top and he leans back to take it off. Easing back down to kiss at your chest, he can’t help but sigh against the sensitive skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your nails dig into the skin of his back. You don’t reply, but he feels as though you’re shaking your head. Glancing up, he frowns.

“You are,” he repeats.

“Can you not say things like that to me right now…” you mumble, retreating back into yourself.

JJ sighs, somewhat disappointed.

“Sorry,” you add. It makes JJ chuckle, his breath fanning against your chest.

“You don’t gotta be sorry, baby,” he replies, moving to kiss at one of your nipples. One of your hands creeps up to his face, fingers slipping into his hair. A small gasping exhale at the sensation. “Just wish you saw yourself the way I see you, sometimes.”

You’re sighing at the attention he’s giving your body. His hand comes up to grope at your neglected breast. More gasps, more breaths. You’re still so quiet. JJ knows it’s in there, could see it trying to break out when you were sucking on his fingers, he just has to coax it out of you.

Leaning back (a string of spit following), JJ sits back on his haunches and takes you in. Wonders what to do with you, as if you’re fully at his mercy. You’re looking at him, watching him. Laid out on your back, near bare and gorgeous, breathing heavy. You're half covering your chest, not used to being so exposed before someone.

Maybe he’ll just fuck you now. JJ's barely holding it together as it is. No, you’ll be too tight if he does. He has to remind himself that this is new to you. He wants it to be worth it. Wants it to be perfect. Not only that, but he also wants you to appreciate yourself and your body the way he does. Words clearly aren’t gonna cut it; you go squeamish at the faintest of compliments. But maybe…

JJ feels the shadow of a smirk grow on his face with an idea. Makes your lips twitch with a frown, as if confused where his mind might be. The he’s reaching for your spare hand that’s found purchase in the bed sheets. Taking it by the wrist, he guides it over your body, down to your shorts. Your eyes dart up from following it, meeting his eyes. Your lips move as if to say something, but you don’t. So quiet.

“I got an idea,” JJ tells you. He’s so hard it hurts, but he can’t pass up on this opportunity.

Your gaze doesn’t break apart from JJ’s as you let him guide your hand with his under the hem of your shorts. He manoeuvres your fingers easily (you pliant like a doll) and slides it through your folds. You’re soaking. The feel of it makes you gasp. Leaning down, using his other arm to prop himself above you, he guides your conjoined touch back and forth, skimming over your clit. The brief, fleeting touch makes you moan.

JJ smirks. There it is.

“Feel good, huh?” he breaths against your ear, teasingly. You don’t reply but he feels your hand gain more control, working to finger yourself. JJ chuckles. “Knew you were dirty underneath all the good-girl shit you put on.”

It seems that whatever strap was holding you together has snapped. Your honeyed voice is crying out, in moans and whines. Eyes shut, head tilted back, and JJ basks in the sight of you. He gradually lets his hand leave yours, slipping out of your shorts, and watches as you continue getting yourself off underneath your shorts. Chews on the inside of his cheek as he does, bucking against your leg desperately. He can’t help but pull himself out of his boxers, jacking off at the sight. At your sweet, hopeless sounds. Your spare hand is coming to his throat, pulling at his jaw, guiding his lips to yours in a lustful, messy kiss. You’re moaning into his mouth, gasping, voice high and desperate.

“Good girl,” JJ croons. It spurs you on. He’s smirking again, gasping through his own pleasure. Fuck. You’re perfect. How are you so Goddamn perfect?

“You close, baby? You gonna come?”

Your reply comes in a stammered, broken gasp. Yes.

JJ forces his hand from himself, quickly moving to grab at your wrist, pulling your fingers away. They’re drenched. You whine at the loss of contact, so close to the edge it seems, and he chuckles darkly against your jawline.

“Not yet,” he simply says.

As JJ moves to take off your shorts, shucking off his boxers in this process, he catches a glimpse of your hand moving back up your body. His eyes flick up just in time to see you slip your used fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. Fuck. How JJ doesn’t come on the spot is beyond him. You open your eyes, catching his gaze, and meekly pull them from your mouth. Before you can form the inevitable apology you’re bound to give, JJ’s darting down to capture your mouth in a kiss. Then, he’s climbing atop of you, rubbing at your entrance. Has the both of you gasping against one another.

“Wait,” you mumble, pulling back. “We need a condom.”

“Shit, yeah,” JJ pants. He’d forgotten about that. You point vaguely to your bedside table.

“There should be one in there. Somewhere.”

JJ chuckles slightly and nods, leaning back to riffle through. He can’t help but notice the vibrator, making a mental note of that for another day. Finding one, he’s coming back to you, sliding it on, desperate to be inside of you.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he keeps his eyes on you.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

“I will,” you quietly reply, a hand coming up to cup at his jaw.

JJ nods and begins to slide in. His eyes reflexively shut; he can’t help it. It feels fucking amazing. Sex with feelings is better than any kegger hook-up he’s ever had.

But you’re tight, too tight, and it’s like your body is trying to push him out. Opening his eyes, he looks down to see your face twisted in pain, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut.

“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, thumbing at your cheek. You force your eyes open, gazing up at him. “You gotta relax, alright? Just breath out for me.”

You take a moment then do as he asks. He feels your body soften. Nudging a bit further in, you actively try not to go tight again.

“It’s just me,” he reminds you. “You’re doing so good, alright?”

To keep you lax, he rubs gently at your clit. Eventually, your body opens up to him. Once JJ’s eased all the way in, you’re squeezing him like a vice.

“You can move, JayJ,” you say, almost anxious that he isn’t.

JJ laughs a little. He won’t last a second if he moves right now. Closing his eyes, composing himself, he replies, “I really can’t. Gimme a second.”

Soon enough, the two of you sink into a rhythm. JJ places a hand one side of your head, another on your hip, angling you up slightly. Your back begins to arch and you’re moaning again, and JJ decides that it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. Prettier than when you sing. The sounds echoing off the bedroom walls are filthy enough to make Satan himself blush.

"Fuck baby. Feel so fucking good."

Groaning against your shoulder, moaning into your ear, JJ feels his resolve begin to break. He’s close. The way your body is reacting to him has him thinking you are too. His hand leaves your hip to rub at your clit. Quick, firm circles. You start to gasp, high pitched and euphoric, and JJ know he can’t last much longer. It’s too good.

The moment you finish, JJ lets go. The two of you come almost together, riding it out, clinging to each other as if you’ll float away if not. JJ eventually let’s himself collapse on top of you, breathing shallow and frantic. You’re still clenching around him, body dealing with the aftershocks.

JJ’s not sure how he’s supposed to go about the rest of his life knowing what it’s like to have you in bed. How he’s meant to get anything done with the memory of how you sound, gasping out his name. The picture stained in his mind of you sucking your fingers clean.

He presses a kiss to your damp neck, then another and another until he somehow finds your mouth. You sigh as you kiss him back, a hand coming to cradle at his face yet again. He pulls back, opens his eyes into yours, and you give him the sweetest smile he’s ever seen. Bashful and blissed out and beautiful.

“I love you,” you tell him, still a little breathless.

JJ smiles back. Heart stammers.

You wanted him. You picked him.

Kissing you once more, tender and fleeting, JJ sighs. “I love you too.”

[moremaybank]

reader and jj calling each other out about your kinks as a joke and he tells reader he has a breeding link and wants her to have all his babies

breeding kink!jj is acc my weakness

"Your praise kink is outta hand, baby. All I have to do is say good girl and you're instantly wet," JJ laughs, poking your cheek.

You're currently lying down on your couch, both of you on your sides and facing each other. You have a fire going, the quiet crackling filling the air and the warm-toned glow casting over the living room.

Somehow, you'd gotten into the conversation of discussing your kinks. Honestly, it was just the two of you poking fun.

"Oh, please. You're the one who's always begging to fuck me in public. The back of Heyward's, the washroom at The Wreck, the hammock at the chateau..." you list. "You couldn't keep it in your pants if your life depended on it. Needy boy."

"You like how needy I am," he states, rolling his eyes.

You shrug, a teasing grin gracing your features. "Maybe I do."

"You wanna know another kink of mine?"

"Sure. Hit me."

He can't help himself. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Focus, Maybank."

JJ switches your positions, climbing on top of you and caging you in with your back against the couch. He drops some kisses onto your collarbone, and then up to your ear. "I have a massive breeding kink, baby. If I ever fuck you raw, I don't think I'll be able to pull out."

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can't ignore the fluttering in your core. "Is that so?"

"Mhm. I wouldn't stop filling you up until I was sure that you were carrying my baby in there."

And you're swooning. "Tell me again, J."

He starts pulling at the hem of your pants. "I wanna give you a baby. 'M gonna give you all my damn babies."

concepts

[deantavias]

"it's unhealthy to read fanfiction"

well i'm doing my 20 minutes of daily reading so...

[devinedoll]

did someone say bsf jj 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 he would be the biggest perv ever i’m kicking my hair and twirling my feet

yes he would. deep down we all know he’s totally filthy.

he lovessssss boat days with you, watching you flounce around in your little bikinis, tits bouncing and ass jiggling. you’d lay out on the front of the boat, soft skin shining in the sun. jj would stare at you, pretending to fish but really just admiring your soft curves and pretty face.

he fed gets off on teaching you things, obsessed with the fact that you rely on him. he teaches you how to fish, arms wrapped around you from behind, pressing his crotch into your plush ass.

you’re none the wiser, smiling and giggling at him, happy to learn something new.

it’s not totally his fault either, you make it pretty hard on him. with your wet kisses to his cheek, insisting on sitting in his lap in the twinkie, snuggling up to him by the fire. you were basically torturing him.

so what if he jerked off to the thought of your plump tits smushed against his side? it’s not like it was hurting anyone.

and when he finally convinced you to fuck? you two went at it like rabbits. jj’s been holding in this tension for months. he’d be pounding you in a mating press 4 times a day.

you loved your little arrangement, great sex with your hot best friend, and nothing would ever change.

“jayj….” you cry out, continuing to bounce up and down on his cock. your pussy was making the most obscene sounds, spurring jj on as he focused on the way your tits jiggled as you rode.

“oh i know, babydoll” his hands fell on your waist, holding you up to begin his thrusting. he fucked up into you, relishing in your breathy whines as you met your high.

he spit out his shirt he was biting him his mouth, “don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner, could fuck this pussy allll day”

[rafesmuse]

obx porn links vol. 3 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

warning: 18+ only. these are twitter links that contain porn videos. these are not fics.

nav. // main m.list // blurbs m.list // vol. 1 + vol. 2

— rafe cameron

sex with frat!rafe while he snaps your bf

neighbour!rafe fucking you in his hot tub

makeup sex with rafe

sub!rafe fucking himself between your legs

rafe fingering you after a stressful day

anal sex with frat!rafe while he snaps your bf

doggystyle with rafe while you’re gaming

dom!rafe spanking you

rough sex with enemy!rafe

frat!rafe fucking you at a party

dom!rafe punishing you after you flirt with jj

— jj maybank

jj getting distracted while gaming

jerking off ghostface!jj

sneaky sex with roommate!jj

overstimulating sub!jj

jj making you squirt during sex

anal sex with best friend!jj

riding fwb!jj while the pogues are downstairs

dom!jj spanking you after you misbehave

slow sex with jj in his room

jj overstimulating you while eating you out

picnic date with jj

[sageworld]

rafe cameron p!links

riding frat!rafe in his dorm after a party

bestfriend rafe sucking your tits for fun

rafe eating you out

riding rafe in his truck after a fight

backshots with rafe

rafe playing with sarah’s best friends pussy while she’s in the store

rafe fucking sorority reader outside a party