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ravenslvt · 3 months

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why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader! (pt.3)☆

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4 links!!

cw: smut! porn with feelings, fluff!, oral sex f recieving, confessions, alcohol use (responsibly), reader is hot and she knows it, tiny bit of angst but not really, party!, atsumu is annoying.

you stare at yourself in the mirror, cursing trying to put the obnoxious earring backing on.

“here let me help you.” your best friend mumbles, moving your hair and easily putting the jewlery on in place.

“thanks… are you sure it won’t be too cold tonight? maybe the skirt is too much.” you pout, looking over your outfit. the only ‘going out’ clothes you really brought was a short skirt and your favorite top that you’d wear to parties back at college.

it was your last week here at the suna residence, with classes starting up again soon.

so of course, the miya twins decided to reunite everyone at their family home, and throw a party. you were at least thankful it was only a street away so no one had to drive over there.

“you’ll be fine. atsumu’s hosting, i’m sure he’ll offer to warm you up” ami giggles. you roll your eyes. the more eccentric miya twin had always pined after you back in high school. of course you never paid him any mind, your heart was always focused on rintarou.

everytime you’d go to the inarizaki volleyball games back in high school, he’d come up to you with his charming smile. ‘aww, come all this way just to see little ol’ me? how sweet!’ he’d say before his brother would come in and grab him, apologizing for his nagging behavior. what you’d never notice though, was the way rintarou would glare daggers at his friend, always flirting with you right in front of him.

you wouldn’t hear their conversations in the locker rooms back then either.

‘i think i’m gonna ask her out, what do you think, suna?’ the blonde setter comments, smirking at the brunette who sat on the bench on his phone.

he just scoffed, sounding unconvinced. ‘good luck with that.’

‘hey! what’s that supposed to mean?’ he pouts, his ego taking a blow.

‘just saying, doesn’t seem like she’s that interested in you.’ suna replies, taking a sip from his water bottle.

‘oh yeah? sounds like you’re just jealous, mister.’ atsamu’s lips quirk back up into his usual smirk.

rin’s eye twitches.

‘no way. she’s like a sister to me.’

“ami you liar, it’s cold as fuck!” you shiver slightly, holding your arms to your chest as you step out the front door, rintarou locking it behind you three.

“consequences of dressing like a hottie. some liquor will warm you right up” she beams at you, making you sigh. “i guess” you squirm uncomfortably in your outfit. the second you walked downstairs, rintarou’s eyes went directly to your bare legs in the skirt. he still seemed so nervous around you even after he’s quite literally been inside of you (twice).

“let’s go before atsumu drinks everything and starts challenging people to sing offs.” the older suna says, walking ahead of you guys on the sidewalk.

“jeez, why’s he in a mood” ami mutters to you, you just shrug, eyeing him.

rin wasn't too excited at the thought of watching guys fawn over you all night while he had to stand back and not be able to do a thing about it.

once you approach the house, you could hear music playing from the backyard. rintarou knocks on the door first, texting someone to let them know you were there.

the door opens a few seconds later, a grey haired twin smiling at you three. “look who it is! long time no see girls. suna.” he gives the man a side hug, they still saw each other from time to time after college. you noticed the way osamu’s eyes lit up when ami smiled back at him. your eyebrows quirked.

“everyone’s scattered around, mostly in the back. drinks in the kitchen, beer pong in the garadge. the usual.” he lets you guys in pointing to each area as if you all hadn’t been there before.

“thanks, samu! c’mon” ami grabs your arm, giving osamu a kirt wave before dragging you into the kitchen where a few familiar faces stood around. you two pour yourselves drink after drink, conversing with some girls you ran into.

“atsumu!” one of the girls waves behind you. you hear him approach, turning around to face him. rintarou stood across the room with the osamu, keeping an eye once he saw the blonde come up to you.

“if it isn’t my favorite girl! how are you, gorgeous?” he slings a strong arm around your shoulder. if you weren’t in such a good mood you probably would have shrugged him off.

“hi, miya” you play into it, giving him a friendly smile. but still, rintarou lingered in the back of your mind.

“miya? ouch, no need to be so formal to the future love of your life.” he puts a dramatic hand to his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. you just roll your eyes, moving his arm and stepping away from him. he puts on his usual pout, ignoring the other girls who were trying to get his attention.

“you’re funny. should be a comedian instead of an athlete.” you comment, taking a sip from the plastic cup in your hand. you ignore the familiar burning sensation of the alcohol in your throat.

“i think that’s the only compliment you’ve ever given me, i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes at his antics. you should’ve expected this from him.

rin watches from the side, downing his drink a little too fast.

“don’t let atsumu rile you up, man. dude’s just trying to rebound from his last girlfriend who dumped him.” osamu reassures the tall middle blocker, noticing his glaring at his brother.

“rebound? he’s trying to hook up with her or something?” suna’s grip on the cup tightens at the thought of you even being near atsumu in that way.

“who knows, he’s been crushing on her since like second year. why do you care so much anyways? i thought you saw her like a- oh.” his eyes soften. he got it. the time he got lunch with suna a week ago, noticing the hickies on his neck. him mentioning that you were staying at their house over the break.

you two were fucking.

“jesus dude, does your sister know?” he questions, his voice getting a little quieter.

“huh? what, no. we’re both adults, i don’t see why…” rintarou drags on, noticing the way the blonde twin was getting closer and closer to you.

“then why do you- hey! where are you going?” the grey haired twin calls after him, but he just ignores him.

your eyes meet rin’s as he approaches. a hint of relief washing over you. osamu took this chance to chat up ami.

“what’s goin on, dude?” suna puts a hand on the setter’s shoulder.

“suna! missed seein’ you around!” the tipsy man gives his attention to his old friend, giving you a chance to slip away. you give ami some excuse like ‘need some fresh air.’ she just nods, making sure you’re good before continuing her conversation with the calmer twin. you smile at the way her face lit up when talking to him.

you sit on a loungchair by the pool, far enough from everyone. you pull out your phone, giggling at the thought of how mad rintarou would be realizing his sister and bestfriend were flirting. it was kind of ironic though, given your own situation.

your mind started to wander. were you wrong for openly lying to your bestfriend who you adored so dearly? you’d liked rin for years, but since you guys started hooking up, you’ve had a guilty conscience.

what even were you two? you weren’t dating, but more than friends. the stolen kisses you two shared when ami wasn’t in the room. the looks you give each other over dinner or when passing in the hallway. it would all be over in a weeks time. would he move on? find someone else to occupy his time?

“what are you staring at?” the low voice you know oh to well cuts through your thoughts. you realize you spaced out, staring into the changing colors of the pool lights. suna takes a seat next to you on the spacious chair.

“nothing, just thinking.” you shrug, bringing your gaze back to him.

“what are you doing out here?” you add, picking up your drink from the floor and taking a sip. he gives you a small smile.

“couldn’t let you sit out here all alone. especially if tsumu tried hitting on you again.” he watches as your lips meet the cup. your eyebrow quirked.

“hmm. someone jealous?” you smirk, placing your drink back down on the floor, your head already dizzy from all the alcohol you’ve already had. plus your close proximity to the man in front of you did not help.

he snorts. “of him? no way. if you wanted him you would’ve gone for it years ago. plus-“ he leans a little closer. “-he’s not the one who got to fuck you.” oh the liquor made him bold.

it was true, he wasn’t jealous of the setter himself. he was more jealous at the thought of anyone else having you. especially when you leave in a week.

“y’know, tokyo’s only like, three hours away from where i go.” he says. he refuses to look away from you. you just look so good.

“what are you implying?” you cross one leg over the other, leaning a little back to get a better look at him.

“i-i don’t know. just mentioning it.” you scoff at his sudden dry response. your heart feeling a small pang of hurt from remembering what atsumu told you just a few minutes ago before rin came over to save you from his nagging.

‘aw that’s cute. looking over at suna over there. y’know he told me he sees you as a little sister. such a sweet guy looking out for you like that.’ the worst part is he wasn’t even trying to be sarcastic or spiteful, just genuinely praising suna.

“right…” you sigh, standing up to leave. before you can even turn around he reaches for your hand.

“hey, what’s wrong?” his voice is full of worry. your shoulders slump, he stands to meet your height. he still held onto your hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

“i-i’m just drained. think i’m gonna walk back home.” your skin tingles at the way he’s so gentle with you. compared to the way he was in sports.

“let me walk you.”

“no, that’s not necessary rin.”

“you’re drunk, i’m not gonna let you walk home alone.”

“i’m not even that-“ you start, but he cuts you off with a stern scold of your own name.

“fine… but let me text your sister first.” you sigh, sending her a quick ‘don’t feel too god, rintarou’s gonna take me home. are you ok? we can stay if you want.’

she sends back a text that makes you giggle. ‘oh girl, do not worry about me’ you look up and spot her with osamu, she gives you a thumbs up. you knew you were right. she’s been wanting to hop on the samu train since high school. glad she finally got the chance.

‘don’t wait up. probably gonna stay here tonight. do NOT tell my brother he will murder me and samu both.’

you laugh at your phone, suna gives you a confused look.

“what’s so funny?”

“oh, nothing. let’s go.”

you two snuck out the back gate, not wanting to draw any attention. it was bad enough you two were walking out together, a lingering mark still on his neck from just a few days ago.

“you still cold?” he asks, your shoulders brushing as you walk down the dark street.

“nah, ami was right. tequila warms me right up.” you say. plus the close proximity to him kept you warm, his body heat radiating from under his jacket. it stayed silent for a few moments before you speak up.

“was… was atsumu telling the truth?” you say, looking up at him.

“what did that idiot say this time?” he gives a small laugh.

“that you think of me as a sister.” this makes him stop dead in his tracks. he looks at you nervously.

“do you really think we’d have done all we did if i thought that?” he says, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. you shrug, making him sigh.

“i said that shit in high school. before…”

“before what?” you peer up at him, his callused hands moving to cup your face.

“before i realized i… had feelings for you.” he confesses, making your eyes widen.

when rintarou first realized he was in love with you, it was a little later than when you developed your own crush on him. it was your eighteenth birthday, suna was nineteen and in his first year of college. ami threw you a suprise party at her house, inviting all your friends. you wore your prettiest little outfit. ami even convinced her uncle to get you guys some beers, needless to say, the birthday girl drank most of them.

when the night went on, you spotted rin nursing his own beer on the couch. you come up to him, sitting maybe a little too close than you meant to.

“why’re you sulking here by yourself. s’my birthday! i command you to have some fun, rintarou.” the way you said his name made something stir inside of him. your body faced his, you didn’t even notice the way your dress rode up on your thighs, or the way his eyes immediately went down to them.

“how’s it feel to finally be an adult?” he says, forcing his eyes back on yours.

“s’alright. kinda anticlimactic but i’m glad m’here. glad you’re here.” you admit, the alcohol clearly making you more bold. his eyes widen a little. you weren’t just his little sister’s best friend, you were a smart, funny, beautiful woman. he’s always known you were pretty, it was obvious. but he’d never had a genuine conversation with you like this.

you two talked for half an hour. everytime you’d smile or laugh at something he said, his heart beat would quicken in his chest.

your head whipped when you heard a call of your name from one of your friends. “c’mon! we got you a cake!”

he never forgot the smile you had on your face when your friends put this much effort into your birthday. it just proved what a good, special person you were. he found himself not wanting you to leave, wanting you to stay talking with him. the nagging pain in his heart when you got up to leave, giving him a cute little wave and a ‘talk to you later!’

then it all clicked.

years of glaring at any boy who approached you, smiling whenever he’d see you in the stands of his games cheering him on, the small tingle of excitment in his chest when he knew you were coming over to see his sister.

he’d loved you for so long, and he never even realized it. not until you left for college, leaving him with his own feelings to sort through. so when he found out you were staying with them over the break, god was he estatic on the inside.

you two stand only a few houses down from his. you could easily walk over and continue the conversation there, but he needed you. needed you to know how much he truly cared.

“oh” a hint of nerves crawled up your spine. your head spins. you’d been this close so many times before, but behind closed doors. except that one time in the kitchen.

but he held you in the middle of the street, not caring that anyone could walk out of their house and see you two. his forehead presses against yours, breathing in your air.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just lean up on your tipy toes and peck his lips, making him smile. he wraps his arms around your waist, not a chance of letting you pull away from him.

“rin, someone might see.” you giggle into the kiss, he just shakes his head gently.

“i don’t give a fuck, let them.”

you stand in his room. it hadn’t changed very much since the very few times you’d peeked in walking past it before. a few hoodies laid out in his chair from when he was deciding what to wear earlier.

he had a few posters on his walls, some of random volleyball teams and even some random bands. the room smelled like him.

“here, drink some water.” he walks back in, closing the door behind him as he hands you a clear plastic bottle. you take it, your hand brushing with his own. you seat yourself on the edge of his bed, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor anxiously. you take a few sips to relieve your nerves.

“you look really good tonight.” his voice cuts through the silence. your head perks up, eyes meeting his.

“so i don’t look good every other night?” you give him a playful smile. he scoffs, hopping on the bed next to you, making the mattress squeak.

“you know what i mean.” his large hand finds your own, playing with you fingers.

this was probably the first time in the last few weeks you’d been alone for this long together without fucking.

“osamu knows about… us.” his hand doesn’t leave your own. your eyebrow quirks.

“you told him?” you softly ask, not angry or demanding. if anything, you were somewhat flattered he wanted people to know.

“he figured it out. mentioned i was ‘oogling’ you too hard” he gives a small chuckle, squeezing your hand gently. his small little acts of affection always made you relax into his touch. you lead your head on his strong shoulder, sighing.

“you think he’ll tell ami?” you peek up at him, moving a peice of his dark hair away from his eyes. he just shrugs.

“probably not. even if he does it wouldn’t be the worst thing.” he kisses your forehead.

“i’d rather her find out when i’m hours away. i don’t need to be murdered in my sleep for lying to her.” you reply. he just laughs.

“c’mon. you’re the only girl she’d ever approve of me being with. she loves you, my parents love you, i-“

you cut him off with a kiss to his surprisingly soft lips, pulling him in by the nape of his neck.

he smiles into the kiss, his hands going to your waist to bring you closer.

“c’mere” he grabs your hips, helping you straddle his lap, facing him. you hold back a gasp when you feel his half hard dick

“someone’s impatient…” you mumble into his mouth, he bites your lip in retort. you try to pull back but his mouth just follows yours, hands gripping your waist for dear life so you didn’t fall right off his lap.

“look so pretty in your little skirt-“ one of his hands reaches under your skirt, groping your ass through your panties, making you gasp.

“-wanted to drag you in the bathroom and fuck you over the counter.” his kisses go down your jaw, sucking new marks into your neck and collarbones.

“jesus, rin.” your voice is needy. you unconsciously grind your hips into his, needing some some sort of friction. the action made him groan.

your breath catches in your throat when he switches your positions, you laying on your back on his bed while he stands over you. his eyes go to your lifted skirt, holding back a groan when he sees the growing wet patch on the fabric of your panties.

he breathes out your name, looking up at you while slowly kissing down your exposed thighs, kneeling down. you squirm under him, he just gives your thigh a threatening squeeze. “stay still, pretty.” his nose finds your clothed clit, making you gasp.

“y-you don’t have to-“

“shush. i want to, so badly.” he assures, licking your clothed cunt. the fabric adding to the stimulation, making you grip his sheets underneath you.

he slides your soaked panties to the side, the cool air hitting your now exposed pussy.

“always so pretty for me.” he immediately delves into your cunt, lapping up and down you folds before focusing on your clit. you let out mewls of his name, gripping at his dark locs of hair.

he brings you closer to him, his arms locking under your thighs so he’s holding you up to his mouth. he could do this forever.

he moans into your wetness, the sounds of your pleasure making him practically get off. he slowly grinded his own hips into the bed, but not letting himself cum unless it was with you.

you’d never felt like this before. the constant laps of his hot tongue compared to his mouth sucking on your clit making you clench your thighs around him. he groaned at a certain harsh tug to his hair, the vibrations on your pussy only adding to the pleasure.

what really got you close to the edge though was when his tongue prods itself into your tight hole, making you try and pull away from how overwhelmed you were with how good it felt.

“f-fuck, rin, s’too much.” your thighs start to shake around his head, but he only speeds up. his nose catching on your clit while his tongue dips into you, pumping in and out. you let out a loud moan when you start to cum around his tongue, suna not even daring to stop. if all he could eat for the rest of his life was your pussy, he’d be between your legs all day everyday.

your hips roll into his face, wetness coating his chin and nose. you have to push his head away when it starts to get too much. he pulls away, panting. he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, crawling up on top of you to kiss you. you sigh into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tounge. it got you aroused all over again.

“rinnn” you whine, hands tugging at his hoodie.

“what’s up, baby?” he kisses your cheek, a smug smirk on his face looking down at you. he looked absolutely heavenly looking over you, hands on either side of your head.

“need you” you pout up at him.

“what do you need, hmm?” he sits up on his knees to pull his hoodie over his head, his bare chest and toned abs on display. you practically moan just at the sight of him. you’d never get bored of this view.

“you- your cock… please” your hands go straight to his abs, kissing down his pecs and stomach. he chuckles at you, hand smoothing down your hair.

“want me t’make you feel good?” he pushes your shoulders back down so your back is completley pressed against the sheets. you nod frantically.

“anything for my gorgeous girl.” he slides his pants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. while he does this you take your chance to rip your top off, along with your bra.

he crawls back over you, slotting himself between your legs. you look at him expectedly as he pulls out his already hard cock. pre cum already leaking from his raging pink tip.

he lines himself up with you, impatiently siding himself into your needy hole.

you’d never felt him from this angle before, the way he was perfectly slotted inside of you.

he slowly moves his hips, cock sliding deliciously in and out of you. your eyes screw shut.

“g-god rin, feels so good, fuck!” your hands go straight to his shoulders, not caring how badly your manicured nails were dragging down his arms.

but it wasn’t enough for him. he grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders as he pumps even deeper.

“there we go. so f-fucking perfect, baby.” his breath hitched as his pace quickens, fucking into you at the perfect speed and angle.

you let out the most borderline pornographic moan when the head of his cock hits that spongey spot deep inside of you. his hand goes to pinch and tug at your nipples, making you mewl.

“rinn!” you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. this was by far your favorite angle with him.

“right here, pretty.” he wants nothing more than to reach down and kiss you, but he didn’t wanna hurt your poor legs. plus you felt so good he didn’t wanna move. so instead his thumb goes to your slick pussy, rubbing and pinching at your clit.

“so fuckin’ messy.” he grunts, your cunt practically trapping him in. you watch as he spits down where you two meet, adding extra lubricant. the sight made you feel so dirty, but so fucking good.

his eyes watched the way his cock entered you so insanley perfectly. like you were made to take him. the wet noises coming from your arousal whenever he thrusts in and out and the sounds of your mixed moans filled the quiet room.

his head rolls back and he groans, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

“fuck- switch. want you to ride me.” you pout when he pulls out, leaving you feeling so empty.

you sit up, as he sits leaning against the headboard. he gives his cock a few pumps when he watches you climb on him, hands on his shoulders as you line his cock up with you. his hands hold your waist for support as you sink yourself down onto him.

you let out a moan when he’s fully seated inside of you. you move off of him almost all the way, bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

“oh-“ you moan as he snaps up his own hips to meet your own. you hear as his head slams against the wooden headboard with a grunt.

he grabs your throat, bringing you in to kiss him. it was messy and needy. all tongue and teeth at how fucked out you both were. he pulls back, his hand still lingering on your throat as the roll of your hips gets faster and faster.

his eyes focus on the marks he left on your neck, running a finger over the fresh dark purple hickies lingering all over your neck and chest. then his eyes go to your bouncing tits, grabbing them and bringing one into his mouth.

you groan when he bites down.

“rin- can’t anymore. g’nna cum” you whine out, your hips getting tired and messy. he sits up more straight, grabbing your hips and slamming up into you, making your eyes roll back.

“cum all over my cock, baby. told ya i’d make you feel good.” sweat beaded up by his brow, he was focusing on his thrusts.

“c-cum inside me rin! please, wanna feel you inside.” you plead. brain feeling like it’s short circuiting, the only thing running through your brain was how good his cock felt pumping inside of you.

he kisses you as you moan into his mouth, cuming around him and squeezing his dick. he pulses inside of you, warm cum filling you up as you share eachothers moans. your kiss goes from rushed and hot to sweet and tender as you come down from your orgasms. neither one of you makes a move to pull away, his cock softening inside of you.

“again?” you pant, kissing his cheek and looking at him with pleading eyes.

you yelp when he pinches your waist, but it turns into a small whine when you feel him get hard inside of you again.

“you’re gonna kill me, gorgeous.”

the clock read 6:28 AM. the sun was barely rising, you lie on rintarou’s chest as you two peacefully slept, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. his fluffy blanket wrapped snug around you.

the front door quietly creeks open, and shuts.

“shit that was loud as fuck” a hushed high pitched voice whispers. the younger suna sneaks up the stairs, shoes in hand, expecting to find you asleep in her bedroom. but the room was empty. the house was silent, her brother’s door closed.

hmm, that’s weird. you guys came back from the party, right?

ami knocks on her brother’s door, loudly in attempt to wake him up.

“hellooo?” she asks where you are, opening the door abruptly. “did you guys not come back from the party-“

“what the fuck?!”

a/n: need suna (requests) i love this man.

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miguelhugger2099 · 4 months

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Best Friend's Brother

Summary: You have a falling out with your best friend. Trying to avoid an awkward interaction, you bump into his brother instead. Miguel x Reader, Suggestive, Word Count: 1,925 a/n: i woke up from a nap, saw a tiktok and was inspired so i made this half asleep. excuse any mistakes

Your friend practically dragged you to this party even when you said you didn't want to.

You had recently gone through a messy falling out with your high school best friend, Gabriel O'Hara. It left you angry and heartbroken since he was the closest person you've shared yourself with.

He accused you of not paying enough attention to him–that you were leaving him in the dust like everyone since you've been away at college.

You defended yourself that it wasn't like that but he just couldn't see it. It ended up as an arguing match over the phone–Gabriel telling you not to see him ever again in a fit of anger, which hurt a lot after it sunk in.

When you had come home over summer break, you other friend who had stayed invited you over to a block party someone was holding. It was on the same street Gabriel lived on so you denied profusely.

She assured you that you wouldn't see him. You wouldn't bump into him since apparently there'd be a bunch of people on the block and she'd be with you the entire time.

That's what she promised. Until she got so wasted she talked and danced with other people.

You glare at your friend, cup held tightly in your hand. You took a swig of the alcohol, the bitter taste of it burning your throat. It tasted like pure shit but it was all these guys could muster up that wasn't a BuzzBall. Maybe a BuzzBall would've been better.

You were sure not to drink too much, too focused on making sure you didn't have an awkward conversation in the middle of your hometown. You held your stomach as you felt the need to pee.

You groaned under your breath, the buzz of the cheap alcohol thumping in your brain. If you didn't pee now, you'd surely burst any moment. You looked around to see if you could ask someone who lived here to let you in their bathroom. You'd rather die than use a bush of porta-potty.

Luckily, you saw some people leave and enter a house freely. Deciding this was your chance, you hurried your numbing legs across the lawns to slip past inside the house.

Inside were various people, ranging from grabbing more drinks and food. You asked where the bathroom was, some kind stranger giving you directions that you were still kinda sober enough to process.

You lock the door behind you and collapse on the toilet after pulling your shorts down. After flushing and washing your hands, you decided to just take a breather on the toilet seat. You groaned as you rubbed your temples, annoyed that you're here, and annoyed that you can't even have fun with the fear of meeting your ex best friend.

Once you felt a little better, you stood up and grabbed your cup again, ready to throw it out and drink a gallon of water at this point.

You glared at the inside of the cup as you stepped out, not realizing someone was coming from the side. You turned and you both made contact, the cup squishing between you two and spilling all over the stranger.

“Shit!” You yelped and you heard the stranger let out a surprised grunt. You look up and with your hazy vision you murmur. “Gabri?”

“Guess again.” He said. Your eyes focused and realized this person had similar features to Gabriel, just slightly older. It was his older brother, Miguel.

Miguel looked down at his soiled shirt, patting it down and lifting it to dry it off. Some droplets of your drink went into his hair, making it give off a bit of sparkle in the light.

His eyes met yours and you flinched. Does he know?

He said your name hesitantly. “Is that you?” The corner of his lips quirking up.

“Yeah. Yeah, it's me.” Fuck. “Sorry. I'm so sorry, I just spilled everything on you.” In a drunk haze you reach out to help him in some way but he stops you.

“It's fine.” He chuckles and looks at your behavior, the slight sway in your stance and blinking to focus. “You alright?” He asks, taking your arm gently.

“Fine,” You choke out. “Just needed some water.” Miguel tilts his head down at you and nods.

“Here. Let me help you.” He turns you in the other direction, presumably to the kitchen. His hand on your lower back and you have to fight the shiver from the warm contact.

In the kitchen, you lift yourself on the counter by the sink while Miguel rummages through the fridge, a few cold water bottles stacked inside. He grabs one and uncaps it for you then hands it over to you. You take it from him, your fingers brushing against each other.

You cross your legs, your senses being heightened from the alcohol–is what you told yourself.

Miguel grabs a paper towel and wets it before dabbing it on his shirt, hoping to get the stickiness of it out. You sip from your bottle as he does so.

“Sorry…” You mumble again and Miguel laughs softly.

“Really, it's okay. Couldn't ask for a better way to see you after so long.” He glances at you.

“We never really talked.” You fiddled with the water cap.

“But I used to see you all the time around the house. Now you just disappeared from thin air, thanks to Gabri.” He grabs another paper towel to dry himself off.

You wince. “You know?”

Miguel nods. “Yeah. Wasn't hard to tell. All he did was talk about you so when he stopped I figured something happened.” He shrugs, seemingly unbothered.

You felt a pang in your heart. Gabriel was always so sweet, was always your number one supporter and you did the same. You wondered why he felt so insecure this time around.

“Did he tell you why?” You ask, feeling the coldness of the water helling you sober up.

Miguel tosses the used paper towels in the trash. “Probably the same thing as everything. Feels like he's being abandoned, so he abandons people first.”

You look at him with furrowed brows. “That's it?”

Miguel nods and leans on the counter so he faces you. “Yeah. I mean makes sense. It's why he didn’t let us talk and it's why you stayed best friends for so long until you left.” He spins the rings on his fingers around.

“Didn't let us talk?” You scoffed. “Gabriel told me you were never home.”

Miguel laughs. “‘Cause he told me to. Went on some jealous rampage that I'd convince you to leave him.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “He told me every friend he made always left him for you.”

“He had shit friends that for some reason dropped him. Always when that happened, I'd want nothing to do with them but Gabriel believed I did it on purpose.” Miguel frowns.

You turn back to the ground where your leg swung softly. “He made you out to be such an asshole.”

He hums, his eyes staring at you while you begin to think. He gazes up and down your body, the skin of your legs showing and lightly sheer the crop top that made him lick his lips. He couldn't help himself any longer.

“Maybe it's the alcohol making me honest but I really started to like you before you up and left.” Miguel admits, standing up to face in front of you, fitting himself between your legs. He places his hands on your thighs and you stiffen, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“What? Is this some sort of joke?”

Miguel chuckles, his fangs showing that makes you weak. “No jokes here, baby.” The pet name rolls off his tongue easily which sends your heart pounding. His fingers reach up to the belt loops on your shorts, curling around them. “I didn't get to see you much because of my brother. And I meant what I said–about his friends being assholes and how I never meant to hurt him, but with you,” He tugs on your belt loops and forces you to lose your balance so your hands could hold onto his arms. He buries his face in your neck and leaves a small kiss.

“I would've wanted to steal you.” His warm breath pants on your skin. His hands let go of your belt loops to rest on your hips. You have no idea which is worse–or better.

Miguel feels your blood pumping through your veins under his lips and smirks.

Your mind spun with how close he was and what words he was spilling.

“Where's Gabriel?” You ask in a whisper.

“Not anywhere that matters right now.”

“Of course, it matters!” You squeal in a high pitched whisper. “I'm not about to fuck my best friends older brother.”

“Ex best friend and I never said we were fucking. Unless you want to, I'm down.” He nibbles on your neck and you whine.

You struggle with the need between your legs and your mind fighting between your personal morals versus personal desire. For the few times you've seen Miguel while you were still friends with Gabriel, you've noticed he was hot. It wasn't often but you'd enjoy the days where he came home from the gym, tank top drenched in sweat and headband pushing his fringe back while he took gulps from his tumbler.

Gabriel would snap you out of your stupor with a call of your name and you never noticed the small smirk when Miguel saw the small flustered look on your face.

Miguel feels your heart pounding and the stiff way you hold his shoulders. His smirk drops and he lifts his head from your neck to look at you.

“I'm just teasing. If you don't want anything, we don't have to. Do you have a ride? I could take you home.” Miguel murmurs gently, letting go and slipping his hands off your body.

You stop him from leaving, his eyes widening when you place his hands back to your hips.“No, no. I want…I want to.” You breathe out.

Miguel smirks again. “Yeah?” He hums, his hands feeling the curve of your hips and squeezes your thighs in his palms.

“Mhm.” You nod, letting yourself succumb to whatever is about to happen.

“How badly do you want it?” He asks. Your arms rest loosely around his neck, lips brushing against one another.

“Miguel…” You whine, not wanting to play this game. Miguel's heart skips a beat, cock twitching in his pants at how cute you look and sound whining for him.

“Contéstame, nena.” He pressed a teasing kiss to the corner of your lips. You lock your legs around his waist and his hands go under your shirt, feeling up your torso and up your back to tug on your bra strap.

“Fuck–badly, Miguel.” You groan. Miguel shutters out a sigh, collecting you in his arms and hurrying back to the bathroom in a poor attempt at gaining privacy for you two.

He sets you down on the sink counter and locks the door, his lips immediately finding yours. You let out a weak moan and curl your fingers in his hair while he slides your bra up to cup your breast underneath your shirt.

Were really about to do this? Fucking your ex best friends older brother that was convinced would steal you from him– and that he's technically right?

He's not here so maybe a little bit of the forbidden fruit wouldn't hurt…

a/n: imagine gabriel finding out hahahah.... 😐

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader

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gor3-hound · 5 months

Text

daddy's home

ft. fushiguro toji x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dark content, dad/daughter incest, oral(f!recieving), degradation, dacryphilia, praise, daddy kink, p in v, he's got a fat cock idk, creampie, overstimulation, pussy spanking, he's kind of an asshole

a/n: hiii! not a resident evil fic omg who am i? so down bad for toji it's not even funny... this got out of hand so quickly it was meant to be half this size... oops? jjk works now being uploaded to @puppykento

word count: 2.3k words

You never saw your dad much growing up. To call him a deadbeat would be an understatement. He was the type of guy to pawn off the presents that ‘Santa’ got you a week or two after Christmas to get some extra cash.

He was rarely ever home, and when he was, he'd bum whatever he could off of you and Megumi. Although Megumi had gone off to that school now, which was great, really. You were happy for him. He comes to visit whenever he can, and he's always bringing you things to help out.

Really, you should be looking after him. He was your younger brother, after all. But he also knew that your dad tended to bother you more than him, so he's always been a little protective of you. He sends you a text everyday to check in on you, asking if you'd seen Toji.

Toji. Not dad. You're not sure when Megumi got into that habit, but you can't bring yourself to do the same. He's still your dad, even if he's a bit of an asshole. He cares about you deep down, you know he does. He might not show it, but you like to believe he thinks about you when he's gone.

Safe to say, you're surprised when he shows up at the door on your twenty-first birthday with a cake tucked securely under his arm. He flashes you a grin, pushing past you and into the apartment without so much as a ‘hello’.

He sets the cake down on the table before flopping down on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table like he owns the place. Which, okay, technically he does. His name is on the tenancy agreement, but he's not the one paying the rent.

“Didn't expect to see you here today.” You say after a moment, standing awkwardly off to the side. You never knew what to do with your dad. You didn't know him, really. Talking to him was always hard for you.

Your gaze falls to the cake after he doesn't respond. It's some cheap, pre-made grocery store cake. You can't imagine he spent much on it at all, but the gesture was nice. He hadn't gotten you anything for your birthday since you were twelve and he got you that shitty plastic bracelet that broke after a day.

“You didn't need to get me anything.”

“Mm. But you're my kid. It's a big birthday.” He says simply, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV, using the cable that you pay for. Typical.

You're surprised he even remembers your age, but you'd take it. Guess your suspicions were confirmed. He cares about you, at least a little.

“Where's the brat?” He asks after a moment, as if he registered Megumi hadn't shown his face. His eyes flick across the room before settling on you.

“He couldn't make it today. He's coming on the weekend.” He just shrugs when you tell him that, spreading his legs a little to get comfortable.

“Ah. You're my favourite, anyway.” He tells you, and you smile. You know you're only his favourite because you put up with his shit, but it still makes you happy to hear him say that. You can see the way his lips curl into a smirk at that, and he slowly drags his gaze along your body.

You're not sure you appreciate the way he's looking at you, though. Like, it's great to get some attention from your dad for once, but that doesn't exactly mean you want him looking at you like you're a piece of meat.

“What're you doin’ now, anyway? You dropped out, no?” Yeah. You had to. Someone had to pay the bills. “So, what… you working as a stripper or something? Got the body for it. Bet you'd make a killing.”

Your face wrinkles up in disgust immediately at that. You cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover yourself a little more, your brows furrowing as you look at him.

“Jesus, dad. That's nasty. Why are you even looking at me like that?” You ask with a frown, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Alright!” He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, brows raising slightly. He lets his hands drop onto his thighs and shrugs again. “Just a joke. Tough crowd, huh?”

You roll your eyes and huff, crossing your arms over your chest. That seems to draw Toji's attention, his gaze lingering on your tits for a moment before he's looking up at you with that stupid fucking grin again.

“What? I'm proud of my work, ‘n you're just another one of my many successes.” He has an air of cockiness around him as he says that, and it just weirds you out even more. What a creep.

“Anyway, I been thinkin’...” He begins, his eyes trailing your body again. You shift uncomfortably yet again, staring him down. “Your daddy is a little strapped for cash at the moment… but I gotta give my special girl a gift for her birthday, don't I?”

“Real interesting, ‘cause you haven't bothered before.”

He starts scowling at that, his lip curling. “I'm tryna be nice. Don't need to be a bitch about it. I'm a busy man.” He pauses, giving you a once over. “Always so fuckin’ bratty. Bet a good dick'd fix that shitty attitude.”

“The hell is wrong with you today?” You snap, trying to ignore the way your dad was very obviously checking you out. It makes you uneasy, in more ways than one. Most notably is the way it's weirdly hot, and that thought alone makes you feel queasy.

“Just c'mere, will ya? No need to be pissy on your birthday. I'm tryna be nice.” He huffs, patting the spot next to him. You walk over to him, but before you can sit, he's tugging you into his lap and holding you down against his hardening cock.

“Dad, wha-”

“Now here's what's gonna happen.” He grunts, nosing at your neck before he's attaching his lips to your skin, his grip on your hips tightening. “I'm gonna make you cum on my tongue, ‘cause it's your birthday, and I'm so sweet. Then you're gonna sit on my cock. Understand?”

You open your mouth to speak, but Toji is quick to cut you off, biting down on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “If the words that're about to leave your mouth are anything but ‘yes, daddy’, then I don't wanna hear it.”

Your mouth snaps shut, opens again, and you're repeating the words back to him.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That's how you end up lying on your back in your bed, the sheets crumpled beneath you with your dad's face buried in your cunt. He's got one hand pressed firmly on your stomach to stop you from moving too much, his other hand keeping a strong grip on your thigh to keep your legs spread.

He eats pussy sloppy. The only time he pulls away is to spit on you before he dives right back in, tongue thrusting in and out of your drippy hole. He's already made you cum twice, a puddle forming on the sheets under your ass from how wet you are.

“Ah… dad, I can't. S'too much.” You tell him, trying to squirm away from his mouth. He glares up at you from between your legs, and then he pulls away. You sigh in relief, but then he's spreading your folds with one hand and bringing the other down harshly against your clit.

You yelp, kicking your feet out. He does it again. And again. “You'll take what you're given.” He growls with another harsh slap, then he's lowering his head again to suck greedily at your swollen clit as he slips two fingers into your pussy without resistance.

His spits dribbling down to your hole as he makes the dirtiest sounds you've ever heard. You didn't know it was possible to be this greedy when it came to eating pussy. Doesn't even feel like it's for you, at this point. He's just eating away to his heart's content.

“You're such a messy girl, baby. Gettin’ my wrists all wet. Didn't know pussies could leak this much.” He mumbles into your cunt, flicking his tongue and curling his fingers. “Must really love your daddy, huh?”

You clench around him, cumming for the third time with a whimper and the bastard finally lifts his face away from you. Gives you that stupid smirk again, darting his tongue out to lick as much of your juices from his face as he can manage, then he uses his free hand to wipe the rest off on the back of his hand. Slob.

“Having a good birthday?” He asks with a shit-eating grin, scissoring his fingers open inside of you, ignoring the way you whine and try to pull away again. All you can do is nod, already so dumb from the pleasure he's giving you that you can barely respond.

“That's my girl.” He coos, patting your face a few times before he's pulling his hand away, leaving you mourning the loss. Can't let any of your cum go to waste, so he pops them in his mouth and sucks them clean.

Doesn't take him long to pull his cock out. It's fat and heavy, hanging low even though it's hard. Your breath hitches as you see it, and you start to push away from him.

“Dad, what the fuck?” That's a boost to his ego. “That's not… there's no way that's gonna fit.”

“I'll make it work. Been between your legs long enough.” He mumbles, grabbing you by your hips and tugging you towards him on the bed. He pushes the tip in, and he can't bite back the smile that forms at the noise you make.

He pushes in so slowly that he's barely even moving. The stretch still hurts, tears forming in your eyes. When he finally bottoms out with a groan, you're so full that you can barely breathe. You swear you can feel that shit in your lungs. Your poor mother.

“Fuck… you're so fucking tight. Shoulda done this years ago…” He breathes out, bangs hanging in front of his eyes as he lets his head hang low. He's nice enough to stay put for a moment, his cock throbbing against your cervix - which is definitely going to be bruised after this. You don't think you're gonna be able to walk for a week.

He pulls out slowly until just the tip left inside, his length glistening from your slick pussy. He stares down appreciatively at the sight before thrusting back in. He builds a rhythm, rocking his hips against yours.

The sound of your moans fill the room, but he's more of a grunter. His grip on your hip is bruising, and it starts to hurt a little. He's using his hold on you so that he can manhandle you into his thrusts, making sure he's filling up every inch of you.

“Such a good fucking slut.” He pants, rocking into you even harder, a crease forming between his brow. “Gonna mould this pretty pussy to the shape of my dick. No other guy's gonna be able to fuck you, baby. Just daddy.”

You nod at his words, too fucked out to even register what he's saying. You'd agree to anything he said as long as he kept up with what he was doing.

“She's sucking me in, princess. Never had anyone take me so well before. My dick's splittin’ you open, and you're just. Fucking. Taking it.” He punctuates his words with deep, slow thrusts that have you pulsing around his cock.

“Made just for me, huh? My own daughter bein’ the one who's got the perfect pussy for my cock.” He growls, shifting slightly so his hands are gripping your thighs. He presses them against your chest, leaning over you as he starts fucking you again.

He's so much deeper like this, punching the air out of your lungs every time his hips slap against your ass. Tears start streaming down your face, your walls tightening around him.

“Shit… you tryna push me out?” He asks, his voice sounding a little strained. “God… she's fuckin’ milking me. She's cryin’ for me even more than you are.”

He lets out a breathless laugh, his thrusts growing sloppier. “Gonna fill you up, but you gotta cum for me first. You gonna do that for me?”

You nod weakly, gripping his shoulders as he pounds you into the mattress. Your nails claw at his skin, and you feel the wetness of his own blood beneath your fingers, but he doesn't even flinch. He seems to like it, letting out a low moan as your nails dig into him.

Your eyes roll back as you cum, your lips parting as you cry out ‘daddy’. You gush around his cock, leaking all over your own thighs until it's dripping down his balls.

“Such a dirty girl.” He grunts, his movements becoming erratic as his balls tighten. “Shit, baby. Gonna cum, and you're gonna fucking take it.”

He pushes in one last time, burying himself to the hilt and holding himself there. He grinds against you weakly as his cock kicks, shooting ropes of cum deep into you.

“Gooood… that's my good fucking girl.” Toji collapses on the bed, his dick slipping out as he lays back on your bed. “Happy birthday, baby.”

There's that smile again. Arrogant prick.

He stays put for a while, leaning back against your pillows with his legs spread and his arms behind his head, taking up a good 80% of your bed and leaving you to lay on the edge.

“I need a beer…” He grumbles, running a hand over his face before he tilts his head to look at you. “You got any cash?”

#HE'S HERE!!!#toji fushiguro x you #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #toji smut #jjk smut #dark content #toji fushiguro x reader

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mischelmayleys · 1 month

Text

Only this first one is going to be post here probably so for more go to my wattpad: football_woman_11

CHAPTER 1

Mapi and Ingrid were the perfect ending for each other. They knew it of course. But sometimes they felt like something was missing. Maybe someone. Some little legs running around their shared apartment in the catalonia town.

It started as a thought from their conversation one simple evening that turned them into a fostering process. They were told they are too busy and always traveling for the games as all the workers have said. It wasn't an environment for a little kid that probably came out of something tragic to find itself in a foster system.

They still tried. They still asked if there was someone they could foster and later adopt. But the simple "No" set their hopes to minimum, until one day.

„Are you totally insane Eliza!" My social worker yelled at me as soon as she found me in a police station sitting in the 24 hour jail. I looked down at my bleeding knuckles and pursed my lips to stop the pounding pain in them.

I shrugged my shoulders and let myself sink further into the uncomfortable wooden chair.

„Do you have any idea how this will look on your record. Running from yet another of your homes is one thing there but fights. And don't let me start at your school records." She was looking at me through the bars of the cell.

„They weren't my home." I said looking up at her.

She sighs: „Eliza I know you don't like them, but you need to at least try. There aren't many families that want a 16 year old, yet trouble maker. You know how hard it was for me to find you Mr and Mrs Freemans?" She let the question sink. She didn't expect me to answer her, yet she stayed quiet.

„I was protecting myself in the fight AND running away was a way better option than staying." I argued back at her. She doesn't know how it is in the foster system. For her every family is good, but it's never the case.

I was in five families so far. Neither of them were okay.

In the first one the father abused me mentally the second one physically, but no one ever believed me.

Who would believe a 16year old girl over people who put everything together once they're investigating? No one...

I didn't eat normal food for a long time, of course I always ended up getting some bread or cold food, but my body was missing some hot and fresh food.

„Eliza we talked about this. A roof over your head is home.“ Again I stayed quiet and just stared at my now numb hands. She wasn’t right. Home is when you are somewhere you are loved and treated right.

My social worker continued to look at me for a few more minutes until she signaled for the cop to release me: „You are sleeping in my office tonight. The family dropped your things into my car. Come on.“ She grabbed me by my arm and dragged me into her car.

„You bailed me out?“ I asked as she started the engine.

„Yes.“ It was a simple answer but it made me smile a little. At least someone cared.

The next day my social worker forced me into my classes and said after school to go immediately to her office, saying she found a family for me to stay over there for a couple of days. I didn’t bother to go, instead I went to a small football field where I sneaked and borrowed one ball which was always lying around somewhere on the pitch.

I threw my backpack onto the field which didn’t include any of my school stuff. Instead of books it was filled with my football shoes and a half of my skateboard. The other half was showing from the back pack as it of course didn’t fit into him.

I quickly changed my shoes and began to do some tricks with the ball that I learned online. They were simple but at least I didn't suck at it like I did with school.

It wasn't like I was stupid or something, I just didn't care. Foster kids don't normally get picked out to the school football team or to anything really. You don't have many friends because you are always moving around and no one likes new kids anyway.

After some time my phone blew up with messages and missed calls from my social worker asking where the FUCK I was. I just rolled my eyes and said I'll be there in a few minutes. It was better to come late, at least they won't pick me if they see that I'm not bothered.

I would lie if I didn't say I was scared to go into the office door. It would mean meeting the people who I would live with. They never were nice people fostering me.

They seemed okay but most of them turned out into drug junkies, alcoholics or abusers. Sometimes all at once. I am kind of used to it now. I mastered a skill in running away and quickly scanning the areas I was in to see a potential way out.

I took a deep breath and with a bored expression knocked on the door and opened them immediately after.

I was met with my social worker and two women talking.

„Eliza, come here. Sit.” My social worker said, making me sigh and sit into the chair next to her facing the two women.

„This is Maria and Ingrid and they will take you in, until I find someone to adopt you.” my social worker was saying but all I was focusing on were the two women in front of me.

One of them had tattoos all over her arms and one on her neck. I focused on that one more:

Looks can be deceiving

Hmm interesting. People with tattoos tend to look aggressive and most of the time they are. One of the last foster homes I was in, the man had many tattoos…I used to look at them when he beat me up. How his muscles flexed and the tattoos moved on his arms.

„Eliza!” I was torn from my thoughts because my social worker called my name.

„Yeah, sure whatever.” I mumbled annoyed and stood up.

„Be nice and please stay out of trouble.” She said as I followed Ingrid and Maria out of the door.

I took a deep breath: „No.” And with that I closed the door and turned around to find them staring at me.

„What?” I asked.

Ingrid smiles at me: „We are waiting for you.” she stuck out her hand and I just looked at it and walked past them.

„Or not.” I heard Maria mumble as they followed me closely.

Due to me not knowing where to go I stopped and looked back at the two women.

„It’s that black Cupra.” Ingrid pointed out a black car sitting at the back of the parking lot.

I nodded and walked to the car feeling them right behind me.

I quickly slipped into the back seat and sat down with my backpack next to all of my bags which I don't know how they got there. Probably my social worker.

I pulled my board between my legs so I don't make the interior of the car dirty. It was so clean.

„So, are you hungry? Or did you eat in school?” Maria turned from the front seat facing me.

I shook my head quickly: „I am not hungry.” I learned that by now, when someone asks me if I'm hungry the answer always has to be no. I once said yes and I hadn't eaten anything for three days due to me being ungrateful.

They both shared a concerned look which I didn't see because I was already looking out of the window.

When Ingrid stopped the car I realized that we were in front of McDonald's. I frowned, why are we here if I said I'm not hungry?

„I know you said you aren't hungry but I think some fries aren't that big of a deal, what do you say?” Ingrid turned my way smiling. Why the fuck is she smiling at me?

„I guess…” I mumbled in case this was some kind of a trap. Ingrid and Maria looks nice…nicer that the other people, but I am done trusting the system putting me somewhere nice.

They both went outside of the car as I stayed in.

„Well you are coming too let's go.” Maria said as she opened the door on my side. Fuck! I mumbled under my breath and got out of the car carefully placing my board into the space between the seats.

They were asking too many questions. If I really want just fries? If I want a burger as well? Or what I want to drink. I tried to reply short and no to most of the questions, but in the end I ended up with The nuggets, fries and coke zero in the back placed safely in my lap as we sat in the car to their house.

I still don’t know what to think about them. They are smiling at me, buying me food and making sure I have everything and it has only been two hours since they first met me. There must be something wrong with them…

Ingrid parked the car in front of a flat building in the center of Barcelona. It looked expensive here…or at least better than the streets where my usual foster parents lived. Maria took all of my bags even though I said I could carry them on my own, but she dismissed me by saying: “Why would you do that?”

I didn’t fight her back on it, not because I didn’t want to, but it was Ingrid who literally guided me out of Marias way.

“Come on let Maria be, I am going to show you your room.” Ingrid said and with her hand on my back she led me into the elevator. I had the Mcdonald's back in one hand and my board in the other one. I get my own room?

#woso #women's football #fc barcelona #espwnt #woso community #mapi leon #ingrid engen #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #foster care

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cleoluvrr · 8 months

Text

fuck up the friendship (rafe cameron x reader)

SYNOPSIS: we're already six feet deep, let's cut the tension

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content

materlist

you entered the party space, the floor packed with people dancing to the music playing through the speakers. you grabbed another glass of water as you and rafe passed a refreshment table. the two of you stood at the back of the room, people watching and enjoying the music in a comfortable silence.

"so...you wanna go dance?" you said as you walked backwards onto the ballroom floor. rafe smiled softly, legs outstretching to follow after you.

rafe dragged you out to midsummers despite your pushback. he told you that it would be fun, but you already knew that he only wanted you to come so he wouldn’t have to be pulled around with his father.

you hadn’t been to the event in ages, parents leaving you behind at home every year since you turned thirteen and outright refused to attend anymore. you hated everything about the dick-measuring contest of a party; the disgusting display of wealth, the suffocating smell of old lady perfume, and the feeling of middle-aged men wrapping their wrinkly hands around your body when your mother would force you to hug them.

you never understood why your family came every year, but deep down, you knew. you guys weren’t rich, at least not when compared to the rest of the island club members. your parents ran a business that the tourists loved, and it generated enough money to send you to private school and pay to be a part of the country club. you’ve lived comfortably your entire life, but your parents had to work hard for that. since they weren’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth, they felt that they had to prove to everyone that they were just as good.

they come every year to make connections not only for themselves, but for you. they want to give you the chances they never had, so they drag themselves to events like this to make that possible.

so when you told them you were coming for the first time in almost five years, they were elated.

though, not as elated as rafe.

rafe had been your best friend since sophomore year of high school, when he was a junior. you weren’t sure why he wanted to be friends with you; he was older, more popular, richer. you felt as if you were in two different worlds. that didn’t matter to him though–once he set his sights on you, it was already decided that he would take you under his wing.

you always heard that rafe was an asshole to anyone with less money than him, and maybe that was true, but you’d never experienced it. in fact, he’d never been mean to anyone at all when you were around. as far as you knew, he was an angel. one with an increasingly concerning cocaine habit, but sweet nonetheless.

everyone always told you to stay away from him, or wondered how someone like you could ever be friends with him, but you never understood what they meant by it. to you, he was just rafe; your best friend.

"dance with me." rafe says, arms reaching out towards your direction.

"i am dancing with you?"

"no," he says, pulling you closer, "dance with me." he wraps your arms around his neck, swaying the pair of you side-to-side to the rhythm of the music.

"are you feeling better now?" you asked. he was dreading the party for weeks, and he could barely muster up a smile a few hours ago. he hums a yes, a content look on his face as he looks at you.

"you look so beautiful tonight, y/n." you looked down as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "i'm serious. you're stunning."

"i know you're serious. why do you think i'm blushing?" he laughs at that. you could see the smile on his face when you meet his eyes again.

"i make you blush? that's cute."

"shut up." you stepped on his foot, though all he does in response is keep laughing. the two of you remained like this for a number of songs, just enjoying each other's presence.

after being at the gala deep into the night, you decide to call it. rafe says his goodbyes to his friends and a bunch of donors that are acquainted with his father, quite begrudgingly, before he walks you out to the car with him. rafe, with his constant need to show off how much money his family has, chose to have a small limousine pick up the two of you from his house. the driver was standing by the car with the back door open, closing it after you were settled inside.

"that was actually so much fun." you spoke tiredly.

"i told you it would be." he hums from the seat beside you while looking at his phone. you cut your eyes at him.

"you literally begged for me to come because you were dreading spending time with your father. which you ended up doing anyway."

"okay fine," he snorts, "but look at this." he leans in, showing you his phone. he posted a video of you loudly singing to a kehlani song on his instagram story, telling the artist to watch out in the caption.

"i told you to delete that shit, rafe!" you shoved at him in annoyance.

"but it's so cute! i've never seen you smiling like that before."

"yeah, because i'm always around you." he shoves you back, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. he rests his head on you shoulder, grabbing at your hand and playing with the silver rings adorning your fingers.

he pauses abruptly, sniffing strangely. he turns his head, deeply inhaling by the spot where your neck meets your shoulders. the feeling of his breath on your bare skin makes you shudder involuntarily, but you don't react otherwise.

"you smell really nice." he says against your neck, lips brushing your skin.

"i know." you kept your reply short, knowing that if you tried to form a full sentence, your voice will certainly fail you.

"delicious, really." you bit your lip, trying to keep the inappropriate thoughts that have suddenly begun to attack you at bay.

"rafe." you sighed out.

"hm?" the blonde hums. he reaches up towards your necklace, toying with the pendant that decorates your chest.

it was a gift from rafe; a birthstone necklace for your eighteenth birthday.

rafe normally ignored your personal space, but this felt different. it couldn’t be the alcohol–even at his drunkest he never acted like…this. you didn’t have a lot of experience with guys, but you weren’t clueless. you knew that this wasn’t how guys acted with girls they were just friends with.

he took off his suit jacket when he got in the car, the muscles in his arms on full display in the well-fitted button up he wore. his legs looked mouthwatering, muscular thighs straining against the fabric of the slacks keeping them contained. the manner in which he sat with his legs wide open, manspreading, was so tempting.

you wanted to slap yourself for even letting those thoughts come to mind. what was wrong with you? rafe is your best friend.

you blinked a few times, eyes tearing away from the thickness of his legs and back up towards his lightly flushed face. you swallowed thickly, sure that rafe could see the way your throat bobbed from his position at your neck.

"have you been drinking?" the feeling of your heart thumping against your ribcage at a rapid pace only made you feel more on edge.

"no, i'm very sober." he says, his free hand moving to the small of your back.

"okay…so why are you acting like this right now?" your throat bobbed dryly once again.

“have you ever been touched, y/n?”

the question caught you totally off-guard, the nature of it immediately causing you to head up. you almost had to physically stop your jaw from falling to the floor.

"what?" is all you could respond with, more than sure that you misheard him.

"i’ve been thinking…” he trails off for a moment. “you’re almost nineteen, and i’ve never even seen you flirt with a guy.”

“okay, so?” you lick your lips, barely able to get your words off your tongue.

“so…you aren’t worried about going into college being inexperienced?” you shrugged, unsure of what he wanted you to say.

“i’ve never really thought about it.” the words left you softly, voice slightly shaky from nervousness.

“college guys are different, y’know. they don’t like girls that haven’t ever done anything.” he says. “that don’t know anything.”

“rafe…” you whined. you felt humiliated as he pointed out your lack of experience with boys at your age.

you and rafe were complete opposites in that aspect. you never really thought about sex, unless you were in the lone darkness of your room back home. the only guy you ever really thought about was him. he was involved in almost every part of your life, and it was hard to talk to other guys when he took up so much of your attention.

rafe, however…well–rafe got around. there was nothing he hadn’t done, and you didn’t have to ask to find that out. he loved to talk to you about his sexual endeavors, and you always tried your best to drown out all the vulgar details that he never attempted to spare you.

“i’m just asking as a concerned friend, y/n.” his blue eyes flicker up to meet yours, the ocean color much darker than you remembered. “has anyone ever touched you?”

“no!” you were short with your reply again, face hot and feeling flustered. “but that doesn’t–it doesn’t matter.”

“it doesn’t matter?” he sounds skeptical, brows rising to the middle of his forehead. “you don’t want me to teach you?”

“teach me, what?” your brows went up just as far as his. you were met with silence, rafe’s penetrating eyes a replacement for a verbal answer. “i don’t think friends are supposed to do those…things with each other.” you gulped again, the temperature inside your body rising the longer the conversation continues.

“why not? it’s smart to do those ‘things’ with someone that you trust.” the blonde chuckles at the avoidance of explicit language. "why is your heart beating so fast?" he asks, moving the hand that was previously playing with your necklace to where the muscles lies to feel it bang against your chest.

that only makes it beat faster.

"because you're making me nervous." your voice gets caught in your throat.

"i make you nervous?" he asks teasingly. you don't answer. "hm? can you answer me?"

"yes," you whisper, feeling him smile against your warm skin, "you're making me nervous."

"really?"

"rafe." he ignores the callout.

"how does this make you feel?" he presses his lips to your skin, soft kisses ghosting against your exposed neck.

"rafe." he continues his antics, the furnace in the pit of your stomach burning stronger with every placement of his plump lips.

"does this make you nervous too?"

"stop." your voice comes out pathetic and weak. you weren’t sure if you actually wanted him to stop.

"do you really want me to?" your mind is fuzzy, too focused on how he's making you feel. "hm? i will if you do. i just wanna help you…wanna teach you some things. don’t you trust me?" he stops the barrage of kisses to whisper in your ear, patiently awaiting an answer.

you felt like you were going crazy.

you’ve always daydreamed of something like this happening, but that was it. dreams. you’re a hormonal, young adult and rafe is undeniably attractive–of course you would think silly things like that. there's a little voice in the back of your head telling you to snap out of it, to not go this far with a boy that’s been your closest friend for years.

it makes you want to think about how many other people he's done this with, how he's just doing this with you because he just wants to get his dick wet for the night, and you’re the closest girl to him. how you’ve barely even had a first kiss, and how it makes no sense for you to do god knows what in a car with said boy.

the other part of you doesn't care and wants to give in to what he's trying to convince you. it doesn't care that it probably isn’t–definitely isn’t a good idea. that this is so out of left field and completely inappropriate–and that's the part that wins.

"yes." you’re as quiet as a mouse, sure that the sound of the car covered up your voice.

"yes, what?" he asks sweetly, rubbing his lips against the cartilage of your ear.

"yes, rafe, i trust you." you nearly whined, desperate for him to keep going. he smiled, planting a kiss to the ear his lips were resting against.

"good."

rafe goes back to the junction of your shoulder, more firmly this time. sliding the hand on your chest up your neck and to your jaw, he turns it away to gain more access. he leaves rough, wet kisses all over, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin.

he trails the kisses down further, marks left in his wake as he leaves burgundy hickeys over the tops of your breasts, the skin left exposed by the dress you wore. he moves the fabric of the skirt out of the way, a knee placed between your legs to keep them open as he hovers for a better angle. he pauses his assault, coming up for air. he looks at your frame beneath him, panting, eyes glassy and lipgloss completely bitten off.

"you look so cute right now" you mewled pathetically in response, arching your back to push your chest closer to him in an attempt to make him start again. "calm down, pretty girl. i'm right here." he says.

"rafe, please." you threw your head back against the seat, exhaling deeply. "don't mess with me right now."

"you want me to stop?"

"you're about to make me mad." you groaned, annoyed with his antics.

"i'm sorry, baby." he smirks like something is funny. "you're just so fun to play with." he steadies himself with a hand on your hip, the other one wrapped around your neck, thumbs grazing the center column in an up and down motion.

"you aren’t a very good teacher." you gritted out, utterly frustrated.

"i’m not?" you shook your head. he sits back down in his seat, grabbing you to pull you over his lap. "first lesson. make me hard." he says.

"wh-what?" you stuttered in complete shock, stumbling over one simple word like an idiot.

"do i need to repeat myself?" he begins pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, up the center of your throat, and nipping at your jaw. you moan quietly at the feeling of his lips, pushing against his shoulders instinctively. "make me hard. no guy can fuck you with a soft dick."

you lick your lips, lack of experience leaving you clueless as to where to even start.

reaching around his head to grip the hair at the nape of his neck, you pulled his plush lips against yours in a bold move. you licked into his mouth hesitantly, the taste of mint toothpaste and bourbon hitting your senses immediately. rafe groaned against your lips, fisting the material of the dress in his hands; the bold choice seemed to have an effect on him. you did not go unaffected, the sound released from his throat sending a surge of heat through your entire body.

rafe was patient– letting you bite at his lips experimentally and tease his tongue with yours every now and then. you had no idea what you were doing, and you were more than sure that he could tell.

he pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss with a sudden burst of confidence and passion. it could not be compared to the soft way you were kissing him just moments ago. his roughness against your mouth and the tightening grip he had on your hips did not match his usual sweet demeanor, the fierceness in his motions throwing you for a loop.

“jesus christ. do i even know this guy?” is the thought that hits your mind.

"sit on me." he whines, pulling away briefly. he squeezes the flesh beneath his hands, urging you to sit down all the way.

settling in his lap, you let yourself rest your weight completely on him instead of hovering. rafe grinds his hips up into you when you do this, letting you feel the barely contained bulge in his pants. you sucked in a breath of air, attempting to pull away, but he grabs the back of your neck to keep you from moving. the blonde was starting to take control of the situation again, clearly far more experienced.

you found a moment to pull away eventually, rafe chasing after with a string of saliva connecting your lips. he licks it away, the action sending your mind into a foggy mess of arousal.

"shit. hold on." you said, panting heavily above him. the boy kneads your flesh through the satin material of the gown, running his thumb over your swollen lips covered in our shared saliva.

"what is it, princess?"

"rafe," you ran a hand through the back of his hair, "why.."

"why, what?" he moves his hand back down to your neck, rubbing the bruises on the skin he made a few minutes earlier. "can you use your words, pretty girl?"

"why did you do that?"

"do what? this?" he grinds his hips up into you again and you whimper, falling forward against him to hide your face in his neck. he chuckles, pressing a wet kiss beneath your ear. "i wanted to show you how good you’re doing, that's why."

"i hate you." you muttered against his skin.

"oh, i'm sure you do."

you couldn't think clearly anymore, unable to form a full thought that wasn’t about what's going on in this car right now. you don't know how far you want to take this, but you didn't want to stop either. you'd never slept with anyone, your first real kiss was just given away to the boy beneath you moments ago.

"how much do you want to show me?" you said boldly, surprising the both of you.

"i hope you know what you're getting yourself into." he smiles lazily with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"i don't," you admit, leaning back to your original position, "but that's why i'm asking you to show me." you locked gazes with his, watching as his pupils blow out and his irises darken.

he leans forward and you meet him halfway. he laps messily at your lips and grazes the roof of your mouth with his tongue, the wet sounds of sloppy kissing and heaving breathing filling the silence of the limo. when rafe grips your neck again, he uses the grasp to keep your lips together until he decides you can come up for air.

he steals your breath away and you let him, the insistence of his tongue causing your shared saliva to run down your chin, no doubt ruining the makeup you worked on for hours earlier in the day. moaning against his wet lips, the obscenity of the kiss sent a blinding heat through your lower body.

suddenly, rafe’s hand grazed a nipple through the fabric of your dress. the action made you shiver involuntarily. he brushes over it a few times before covering your breast with his entire hand, squeezing it roughly. your body jerked against his, unable to control the reaction it had to his touch. he broke the kiss, the sound of you whimpering capturing his attention.

"you're so sensitive. do you like the way i touch you? how i take control over you?" he asks with a rough voice.

you were at a complete loss of words. not being used to being spoken to this way, you could only respond with a nod. rafe doesn't bring up an issue with your answer. you felt as your thin underwear began to grow damp, the fabric sticking to your skin as he palmed at your chest.

with glassy eyes, you watched as he groped your clothed breasts, brushing over your pebbled nipples and kissing the fresh hickeys as he worked on making new ones. rafe gazed up at your dazed expression, completely entranced with the unfiltered reactions. he’d never seen you so desperate.

"you're so adorable." he whispers against your neck.

"shut up," you respond. your breath stutters when he pinches a hard nipple through your dress, leaving it tender and nearly making you faint. he dropped his head back down to your chest, wrapping his mouth around your clothed breast. the action left you feeling dizzy, the sting of the pinch went directly to your core, leaving you clenching around nothing as you leaked pathetically into your underwear.

"rafe, stop! you're gonna leave a stain." you whined, pushing him off weakly. he pulls away begrudgingly, clearly displeased with the complaint.

"i don't give a fuck about this dress." he nearly growls.

he switched to the other breast, taking it into his mouth and tugging at the satin with his teeth. he licks roughly at the hidden nipple while a hand sneaks up to yank down one side of your dress, spreading the saliva that seeped through the fabric onto your damp skin. you hissed, the coolness of the air-conditioning causing the bud to harden even further from the wetness. you were desperate to feel his mouth lave across the bare skin. you looked up at the roof of the car, head heavy and feeling drunk with pleasure. he backs away suddenly, his hands frozen in place as he looks at you closely.

"rafe..." he groaned at the sound of his nickname leaving your mouth in such a pathetic plea for him to keep going. you ground your hips down against his in search for something to ease the throbbing between your thighs. you were beginning to lose it–your friend was single-handedly driving you insane in under fifteen minutes.

"what do you want me to do? use your words, beautiful," he looks up at you, his eyes wild and filled with lust. he ran his hands over your thighs, moving the skirt of the dress to expose your bare legs through the slit. you pulled his face towards your chest, lip captured between the sharpness of your teeth. “your second lesson is to tell me what feels good.”

"can you kiss me here, please?" your voice is quiet, embarrassed that you were begging for him to touch you.

your head fell back, all thoughts of embarrassment are gone when he pulls down the top of your dress slowly, releasing your breasts from their constraints. you weren't wearing a bra, the structure of the dress leaving no need for one; you were completely exposed to him.

rafe groans, his lips encasing one of the buds and releasing it with a wet 'pop.' he flattens his tongue against you, moving it in an upwards motion and repeating the action twice more. hovering over your chest, he opens his mouth wide to let his saliva drip down onto you before licking it back up with long drags of his tongue.

your clit pulsed intensely, eyes falling shut at the overwhelming feeling. rafe kept going, sucking and biting at your nipples like his life depended on it. his neat hair was ruined, the repeated gripping and tousling of the locks by you leaving it a complete mess. he groans against you when the manicured nails attached to your fingers scratch at his scalp.

"rafe," he dick twitched under you when you moaned his name, "please touch me. i need it." he hummed in acknowledgement, finally pulling away from your thoroughly dampened chest. strings of saliva connect his lips to your skin.

"are you wet for me, pretty girl?" the way he looks up at you through his lashes with swollen, red lips and a chin covered in his own spit is a pornographic scene.

you recognized the craving in his eyes immediately; they were a reflection of your own. with your usual shyness and critical thinking skills gone long ago, you grabbed rafe’s hand and placed it between your legs, allowing him to feel what he's done.

"fuck..." he cursed, frozen in place.

you squeal when he grabs you roughly, sitting you on one of his knees instead of over his lap. he watches your face as he pushes his flexed thigh up against your core, moving your hips against the tense muscle.

placing your hands on his shoulders, your steadied yourself as the hot pleasure flooded your body. he narrowed his eyes at you, gripping your waist tightly as he slid you back and forth across his thigh.you clung to his forearm at his roughness, the feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh both painful and arousing.

"does that feel good, baby?" you nodded, words unable to roll off your tongue properly.

rafe picks you up again, placing you back in the seat of the car. he turns to you and fits his body against your side, hiking the pink dress up and opening the slit to reveal your ruined underwear. he bites his lip as he drags a finger up and down the soaked fabric, in awe at the way it glides so easily. he pulls away, holding his fingers up to your face.

"can you get these wet for me, sweet girl?" you comply, allowing him to place them into your open mouth.

he uses his free hand to wrap around your body, groping at your bare chest from behind. the hand owning the digits that were previously encased by your mouth move back down between your legs. he uses the pads of his fingers to rub harsh, tight circles into your swollen clit, the sounds of your wetness filling the back of the car.

you grabbed his wrist in one hand, feeling your release building quickly.

you tremble against his body and he whispers sweet words into your ear, soothing you with wet kisses on your neck. you grind yourself into his merciless fingers, desperately after chasing your high as the heat spreads throughout your entire body.

"m'gonna cum," you say, on the verge of babbling mindlessly.

"you’re gonna cum already?” he chuckled at your whining, his head shaking. “how cute.”

his movements speed up unexpectedly, rubbing over your clothed pussy with fervor. your eyes squeeze shut, the pleasure building so quickly that you couldn’t keep them open any longer. the hand gripping his wrist moves up to his head, holding onto his messy hair for leverage. all of the restraint you had before had completely disappeared, hips jerking sharply into your friend's hand as you reach your peak.

"rafe-" you start loudly. the owner of the name clamps his free hand over your mouth and hushes you.

"we aren't alone, remember?" you nod, biting your lip to keep quiet, but he keeps his hand in place anyways just in case.

you whimper, thighs clamping around rafe’s hand tightly. he continues to palm and rub at your sensitive center, aiding you all the way through your climax instead of stopping despite how much your body twitches against him.

"mmm, you're taking it so well baby. making such a mess for me." you whine at his words, the sentence going straight to your gushing cunt.

the nails of your free hand dig into his arm, and the other continues pulling at his hair harshly in desperation. he groans deeply as he drags out your for his own pleasure, watching as you squirm against his hold, moaning his name pathetically through his palm.

"you're such a good girl for me," he praises into your ear, "so, so good. you learn so quickly.”

you pant against him, chest heaving and a few lonely tears falling from your eyes. you ache for something to fill your empty cunt, the feeling of his hands rubbing at your clothed core no longer enough to satiate the desire. you follow the motions of his hands with your hips now, still in a daze, unable to stop despite the overstimulation.

rafe slips his hand past the waistband of your panties, slipping his fingers through your folds and collecting the wetness that he created. you let out another pathetic whine; the feeling of his bare skin against yours causing your eyes to roll back into your head unconsciously.

"i know, pretty girl." he coos into your ear. he puts his glistening fingers to his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. he wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing it as he pulls you into a messy kiss. he pulls away, looking at your fucked out expression in awe.

he suddenly glances up towards the window in front of us and lets out a string of curses. you lift your head from his shoulder, reacting in the same way when you look out of the window.

the two of you rush to fix yourselves, the sight of your neighborhood filling the dark car windows. rafe grabs napkins from somewhere in the car, using them to wipe your chin, chest, and thighs clean, apologizing when he touches sensitive areas. he cleans his own hands and face off, throwing on his suit jacket while you adjust your dress back into its original state.

the limo pulls in front of your house, the sight of your parents’ cars and the lights on in their room shaking you slightly. you suck in a deep breath, taking in everything that just happened. you gnaw on your bottom lip, gloss long gone, and swallow deeply.

“what the fuck did i just do.”

you look over at matteo to gauge his reaction, only to find him staring already. you blush and start laughing, which prompts him to as well. your eyes rake over his body, and immediately spot the large bulge in his dress pants. the laughter fades into silence, feeling terrible for leaving him like that. what exactly do you do in a situation like this?

he catches you staring and smiles, head shaking as he laughs softly.

"i'm sorry about..." you trail off awkwardly, not knowing what to say, "that." you decide. he chuckles, moving to a seat closer.

"it's okay, don't worry about it." he says..

"well, um, i guess i should go. it's pretty late." you tell him, reaching for the door handle.

he intercepts, pulling you back towards him gently. he grabs your jaw with a firm grip and kisses you softly, sending butterflies to wreak havoc in your stomach. he massages your lips with his, the sweet movements drastically different from how he kissed you moments earlier. he pulls away, smiling with low eyes.

"i don’t think i can let the college boys have you..." he says softly, his eyes containing a look you’d never seen before.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #cleoluvrr fics #rafe cameron smut #obx3 #obx fic #rafe imagine

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 8 months

Text

Can't Avoid It Forever

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: fear of needles, fluff

Summary: Spencer needs to go to the doctor to get his blood drawn, but the most difficult part is finding him.

Square Filled: jack hotchner (2021) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

“Have you seen Spencer?” you ask someone.

“No, sorry.”

You sigh and continue searching for your boyfriend who has to be in here somewhere. He’s not in the offices, you’ve already checked the garage, and the floor above and below the BAU. You walk through the double glass doors into the bullpen and see Derek by the filing cabinet.

“Derek, where is Spencer?”

“Uh, he’s not at his desk?”

You look over to see it empty.

“No. Where is he?”

“I don’t know. Last I saw him, he was at his desk. Sorry, mama.”

You know he knows where he is but instead of pressuring him to tell you, you move onto the next person you see. JJ walks over to Spencer’s desk to deliver some files, so you slink up to her side and a sweet smile.

“Hey, JJ.”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Have you seen Spencer?”

“Last I saw he was in the break room getting some coffee. You know him and his coffee,” she chuckles nervously.

“He better be,” you mumble.

The only person in the break room is Emily who is sipping suspiciously on her drink. She barely looks at you when you enter which makes you narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“Hey, Em.”

“Oh, hey Y/N. What’s up?”

“Where’s Spencer?”

“Uh, last I heard he’s in Pen’s office.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Emily. I have been running all over this fucking building looking for him.”

“What?” she fake gasps. “I swear, I’m pretty sure he’s in there.”

You groan and leave the break room, missing the way Emily snickers in her hands. You walk over to Pen’s office and knock once before entering. She’s the only one in here but Spencer isn’t anywhere to be found.

“What’s up, sugar?” Penelope smiles.

“Where is Spencer?”

“Last I saw--”

“Do not lie to me, Penelope. Where the hell is Spencer?”

If anyone were to break under your stare, it’d be Penelope. The second she squirms in her chair you know you’ve got her right where you want her.

“He told me not to tell you.”

“Did you know I can hurt someone twenty-one different ways? Half of which you won’t see me coming.”

“Hey, no need to get violent.” You raise one eyebrow and she sighs in defeat. “He’s locked himself in the family bathroom.”

“Thank you,” you smile sweetly.

You leave her office and go to the only family bathroom in the BAU which is located outside the bullpen but before the elevator. You knock twice on the door without saying anything. If Spencer hears it’s you, then he won’t open the door. When he doesn’t answer, you knock three more times.

“Who is it?” Spencer asks.

Without answering him, you keep knocking until he gets annoyed at you. He opens the door to tell off whoever it is, but as soon as he sees it’s you, he tries to close the door on you.

“Oh, no you don’t.”

You slam your foot into the bathroom before he can shut it on you, and you push it open with all your strength.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. What’s up?” Spencer says casually.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“I’ve been right here.”

“Come on, we have to go.”

“I need to get back to my desk. JJ has some files for me to do.”

“You know damn well Hotch gave you the rest of the day off. Don’t lie to me.”

“But we need to babysit Jack. You know how Hotch likes us to be punctual.”

“That’s not until after school which is in five hours.” Spencer tries to think of another excuse as to why he doesn’t want to leave but you’re not going to give him the chance. “No more stalling. You need your blood drawn. You’re going to the doctor.”

You grab his hand and pull him from the bathroom to drag him all the way to your car. He’s been dreading this doctor’s appointment all week but his doctor needs this blood sample from him. Spencer bounces his leg nervously as you pull out of the parking lot. You reach over and place your hand on his leg to give him some comfort.

“Baby, I know you’re scared. I know you hate needles, but the doctor found something in your blood. They need another sample to make sure it’s not dangerous.”

“I know,” he sighs. Ever since Tobias and his use of Dilaudid, he’s been deathly afraid of needles. He doesn't care if it’s for personal or medical use. He is terrified but he knows this needs to happen. “That doesn’t make me any less nervous.”

“Would you feel better if we got ice cream afterward?”

Spencer’s leg stops bouncing at the thought of a sweet dessert.

“Will there be sprinkles?”

“Yes,” you laugh, “there will be sprinkles.”

“Okay, fine.”

He’s the biggest baby but he’s your baby.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fiction

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featherandferns · 1 year

Text

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.”

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comet-forgot-you · 5 months

Note

love power bottom river but now we need power bottom amber 🙏🏻🙏🏻

tile

power-bottom!amber freeman x reader

summary: you and amber almost get caught

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, oral, fingering, power bottom amber, almost get caught but they don't dw, all characters are over the age of 18, i think thats all

a/n: i missed writing for amber :(( do not repost for any reason

no strings attached.

you had to remind yourself of that every single time you found yourself caught up in your current position. on your knees, giving amber freeman head in the locker room.

it was a predicament you had been finding yourself in a lot lately. in the middle of the night, in the middle of classes, and even now, in the middle of a fucking pep rally where the entire school was just down the hall. it was electrifying, really. the thought that you two could get caught at any given point, it only turned you on more.

amber tangles her fingers in your hair, tugging you closer to her soaking cunt. "keep makin' me feel good," she mutters. loud music blasts from the gym, cheers erupting from the over-hyped crowd. you circle her clit with your tongue, flattening it against the nub, a groan vibrating from your throat.

you grab onto her pale thighs for some sort of extra support, trying desperately to get yourself impossibly closer to her warm cunt. you knead at the flesh beneath your fingertips, sucking rhythmically on her pulsing clit. you place one of her thighs on your shoulder, allowing yourself more access to her cunt. your knees ached, the cold, tiled floor digging into them.

"yeah, fuck, just like that," she mumbles, bucking her hips into your warm mouth. you smile against her cunt, prodding at her soaking entrance with your finger. she lets out a moan, biting her bottom lip to quiet herself. you sink two fingers in, curling them like you know she likes it.

her back arches off of the cool metal of the lockers, her clit pulsing erratically on your tongue. her walls squeeze your fingers as you scissor them in and out of her. the music in the gym gets louder, the sound of a slamming, metal door sounding from the hallway. amber's eyes widen, shooting to the wooden door. she glances down at you, heat flooding her body. she was so close, but the thought of getting caught with you buried between her thighs had her anxiety rising.

"fuck," she tries to pry her leg off of your shoulder, but your firm grip on her thigh stops her. "y/n, we're gonna get caught," she whisper yells, trying desperately to get herself out of your hold. she whines when you pull yourself off of her clit with a pop.

"showers," you mutter, too focused on making her finish to care about getting caught, but you knew amber would never let you eat her out again if you got caught, so you opted to place yourselves in a less revealing area. you let go of amber's thigh, pulling her pants up the best you could before getting off of the floor and rushing the both of you to the concealed showers. you close the curtain before your back in your previous position, dragging her jeans down as you dropped to your knees.

"Y/n" she hisses the second your warm mouth meets her clit again. you look up at her through your eyelashes. you're far too gone, drunk on the taste of her pussy and getting her off to care about what could happen.

"better stay quiet then, hm?" you mumble, diving back in to continue your ministrations. the door to the locker room opens, the sounds of footsteps walking towards the lockers. amber covers her mouth with the palm of her hand.

"why didn't you change before the pep rally?" a voice mutters. you flatten your tongue against amber's clit, finger sinking back into her cunt.

"i didn't have time, besides, i don't want to be in this stupid ass mascot costume more than i have to," amber looks down at you, tugging your hair. she moves her hand away the second your movements on her cunt stop.

"don't you dare stop," she mouths, jaw clenching. if you weren't going to stop when someone came in, you definitely weren't going to stop now. you nod, curling your fingers to hit the spongey spot she loves so much. her head falls back, resting against the cool shower walls.

it feels like hours had passed by the time the two that interrupted the two of you leave, and the second the wooden door slams shut, amber's coming undone on your fingers, moans muffled in the palm of her hand.

"so fucking persistent," she mumbles, panting as she comes down from her high.

#mikey madison #mikey madison x reader #amber freeman smut #amber freeman #amber #amber freeman x reader #scream 2022 #scream smut #scream movie #scream #i want amber #wlw smut #smut

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geckoomoria · 2 months

Text

Unforgettable - Sam monroe x Reader drabble

i literally love this guy sm i have to write about him 24/7

mention of smoking, bullying , fantasizing about sexual things , kissing , sam and reader have a crush on eachother

enjoy cuties !!♥︎

———————————★————————————

Saturday August 21th

approx 9:05 pm

IT WAS A LATE SUMMER NIGHT in your little hometown, the breeze blowing against your face as you walked across the board walk overlooking the ocean.

The wind blows through your clothes and it makes your legs shiver a little.

As much as this pretty little town seemed like a dream , you hated its residents. The neighbours who put on a face just to please each other , the neighbours who call each other friends but backbite all the time about those same “friends”.

Everyone was so fake…. Well everyone except a few certain people.

You take a seat on the edge of the board walk and watch as the moonlight gleams into the water.

You’d come here often to get away from the town and the people living there , it was like a breath of fresh air.

You were given a small taste of life , real living felt like this.

suddenly the smell of smoke came from behind you, at first you thought someone decided to have a late barbecue tonight but as you turned your head

a young boy around your age with dark blackish blue hair , baggy clothes , piercings evident on his ears , and guyliner had a cigarette in his mouth. He stood above you watching the ocean as well.

The sudden sight of him caught you so off guard you screamed and even almost fell into the water but luckily you grabbed the wooden pole of the boardwalk. His reply to your scream? he screamed as-well.

“AH WHAT THE FUCK! WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?”

“IM SORRY , YOU JUST APPEARED OUT OF NOWHERE”

“SO YOU SCREAMED??”

“ANY SANE PERSON WOULD!”

“WHAT SANE PERSON GIVES SOMEONE A HEART ATTACK!?”

He basically started choking on the cigarette from how your scream startled him

You recognized the dark haired boy as Sam Monroe , he went to your school and was in your grade but you’ve never really spoken to him.

He didn’t have the greatest reputation, always getting in some sort of trouble , jocks would pick on him sometimes for his choice of style but he didn’t care much. There was even rumours of him buying drugs.

He also happens to be your little hallway crush.

Even if everyone thought those things, you thought Sam was the coolest. One of those not-fake people you thought about earlier.

after the two of you catch your breath from the screaming match you just had , you couldn’t help but start to giggle.

You bring your knees to your chest and start trying your hardest to cover the laugh attack you were surely going to have.

Sam takes a seat right next to you , dangling his feet off the board walk right above the ocean water. “Oh so now its funny huh? attempting to kill me” he says through a little smile on his cute face.

“a little” you say holding up your thumb and index finger close together. Sam takes a long drag on his cigarette and then puts it out.

“Yeah yeah laugh it up Y/n but you dont see me thinking you almost falling into the water funny , do you?” his voice laced with sarcasm but thats not what had you stumped , its the fact that he just said your name.

“how do you know my name?” you ask curiously with your eyebrows raised and head tilted , his face goes a bright hue of red instantly.

“uh i- i uh just know you know? you’re not easy to forget” he attempts to explain as he nervously fiddles with his fingers avoiding eye contact with you.

You find yourself leaning closer to Sam “oh? meaningg?” , “meaning i think you’re real unforgettable.”

this time he looks deep into your eyes as he speaks, the blue shades of his glistens so bright , even his eye makeup couldn’t cover it. They shine so breathtakingly. it completely hypnotized you.

Smiling while the silence engulfs you two , you look off into the moon staring at its brightening figure. you decide to ask Sam a question thats been on your mind.

“Do you wanna stay here like forever?”

The blue eyed boy continues to stare at you , wondering where a question like this could possibly stem from.

“In this town?” you nod in response. “ nah , i mean exploring sounds real fun you know , checking out all the different countries and what they have to offer”

“offer?”

“yeah offer like what things i can daydream about when im not there, unforgettable things i can be in awe of”

you liked his thinking of travelling the world, it did have so much to offer.

His response also made your heart flutter , didn’t he just call you unforgettable? You feel the corners of your lips lifting up, he looked so cute all red earlier , it just made you wanna tease him again.

“Ahh so does that mean you daydream about me too?”

Sam looks at you and once again , he starts blushing. but not just on the fact that you just called him out but also that it triggered a certain daydream he had about you not too long ago.

He reminisces about how nice it was to hold you in his arms , kiss your sweet honey-like lips , stretch his hands all over your pretty body and call you his.

but then again it was just a daydream. (for now😈)

Sam could feel his body heat rising just thinking about fake scenarios involving you , he zones out momentarily but comes back to his senses as you call his name.

“Sam? Sammm?” you ask waving your hands in front of his face trying to catch his attention

“sor-sorry got distracted” , “hm , thinking bout me?” Your teasing words were going to be the death of him.

Sam cant hold back anymore , he needs you now. He HAS to kiss you right this very second.

He leans in closer , closing the minimal gap between the two of you , your breath hitches as he whispers against your lips.

“Can i please kiss you?”

“say please” you voices calls out quietly, you wanted him just as much too but it was more fun this way.

he whines out a cry of silent desperation “please”

you initiate the kiss but he’s the one taking full control.

He kisses your lips like a starved man , both of his hands holding your face , on each side of your upper jaw

you interlock your fingers into the back of his dyed hair and continue kissing him like theres nothing else in the world important to you.

The kissing intensifies between you and Sam , neither of you wanted to let go.

The moment between you is broken minutes later as you pull back from each-others lips and catch your breaths , still in the same position.

“So uh- does this mean i can have your number?” he says , crystal blue eyes locked onto your E/C ones.

you chuckle at his words,

“thought you’d never ask Monroe”.

———————————★————————————

man i love my boyfriend Sam😇

i literally opened my window last night to get into the vibe of writing this and got my dumbass sick😭😭

i follow back guys😓

leave literally anything in my question box thingy it makes me feel like a guest on the jimmy Fallon show

love u all mwah 💞

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boozenboze · 8 months

Text

That Fuckin Rat

Tf!141 x Fydor Dostoyevsky M!reader

Summary: It’s hard to believe that Makarov isn’t the main one behind the attacks, and that he had a little friend who had plenty of tricks up his sleeve’s.

Females DNI

Terrorists, we all hate them. Reasons all being obvious. Some were too sneaky, smart, and overall just a pain to society. Makarov was one of them, the man’s name being heard plenty times before. He was smug, extremely condescending, and practically unreadable. It had taken years for military to actually keep up with his antics.

Though of course, there is always someone else helping behind the scenes of someones dirty work. His name wasn’t known, hell there was barely any information on the man at all. What was known, was that he was assisting Makarov with his plans, though his motives were unclear.

______

It was a peaceful day on the streets of Chicago. People going out for a run, getting ready for work, kids going to school. Just usual things that you’d see on a week day. A man was sitting inside, legs crossed as he sat with his hands in his lap. He wore a white button up shirt, white pants, and ushanka hat. A waiter brought some tea to his table, her eyes having been locked on him since he’d walk in.

He was clearly a looker, from his natural facial features to his style. It all looked and gave distinguished gentleman. His eyes were slightly droopy, making him look tired, but the small smile he had on his face sad otherwise.

He nodded at the waiter, silent thanks as he took the cup in his hand, eyes closing. As he took a sip, another woman entered the establishment. She was older, wearing a blue button up shirt with a white jacket. Her dirty blonde hair brought up into a bun giving her a clean, professional look. She sat at a table near the Russian man, setting her computer down and typing something before calling a waiter over.

The man glanced over at the new customer in the establishment, humming before setting his tea back on the table. Due to his hair, the people around him would automatically miss the earpiece he had in his left ear. He spoke very lowly, so his words weren’t audible. Though as soon as he stood up he was met with a hand grabbing his arm, forcing him to sit back down.

His eyes widened, looking over to so a man. He was clearly older, hence the beard and more gruff appearance. His eyes were blue, and he wore a beanie atop his head.

“Excuse me, may I hel-”

“Close your mouth, listen closely.” The man spoke gruffly, hand still gripping the slimmer mans arm. “Your gonna exit out the back door, don’t draw attention to yourself. We don’t need things getting bloody, not here.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the s/c skinned male replied.

“And why would I, comply to such a request… hm?” The male questioned, looking down to see the mans other hand, that wielded a pistol. The h/c haired males facial expression held one of calmness with a mix of annoyance. He shifted his gaze to another table, noticing how a darker skinned male was eyeing him down, he squinted for a moment before looking forward again, sighing. He smiled, chuckling slightly, though there was no humor behind it.

“Ok…lets go.”

—————

Being dragged into the alleyway between two buildings wasn’t part if the plan, but here he was.

“I see you got him.” A woman, the same woman with the dirty blonde hair said as she followed out the door. The darker skinned man spoke up, looking back at her, hand’s keeping the Russian man from trying anything. The e/c eyed male had his head slumped downwards, eyes locked on the concrete beneath him.

“Getting closer our goal aren’t we Laswell.” The dark skinned male said, looking at the woman. He pulled the h/c haired male by the arms, making the males back bump into him with a light thud.

The woman, now identified as Laswell hummed. “This is part of it, though it’s quite obvious that we’d need more than just..” Laswell stopped talking, looking at the h/c haired male who hadn’t said a word since they exited the establishment. Another individual, with a mohawk was glaring at the man now in their custody, as well as another large man who was in the dark corner of the alley.

There wasn’t any struggle to put the man into the vehicle that the 5 peple had arrived in. He was seated in the back seat in the middle, now being trapped between the dark skinned male and the man with the mohawk. The woman sat in the passenger seat, while the older man sat in the drivers seat. The large man with the skull mask, sat in the very back of the vehicle, silent, though his presence was known.

They pulled out of the alleyway, the vehicle now going onto the road. After just listening to the 5 individuals address and converse with one another, it was clear that he’d just been taken by Military. He found it very odd that they found him in such a place at such time. He was always extremely careful when he made arrangements for…shipments, though he supposed anything was possible.

“So…would you mind telling me how you all found me?” The h/c haired male questioned, keeping his haze ahead. There was no response, only the sound of the engine revving being heard. The male scoffed, rolling his eyes before muttering “rude”.

——Timeskip——

Cuffed by the wrists and ankles on a chair in an interrogation room wasn’t something M/n was planning on.

What a pity, fools did all this just to catch little ol’ me? I must say I’m flattered. M/n thought to himself, sly grin creeping onto his face as he threw his head back and chuckled.

“Hello~ anyone there? You’re not the only ones who have plans ya know!~” m/n called out, not getting a response due to him being the only one in the room….Well, not exactly, if you count the cameras that the 141 was watching him from.

————

“So, who wants to give it a try.” Price spoke, his response being silence from the other 3 men. Gaz looked to the side awkwardly, Soap whistling in attempts to seem like he wasn’t listening, and Ghost was standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed. He looked annoyed, possibly because of the current situation. The man’s voice irked him, and not in a good way.

This man had assisted Makarov…only God knows how many times throughout the years, and now he’s here. Something was wrong though. They caught him too easily, and the way he just cooperated didn’t really sit right.

They’ve heard the rumors that had circulated around him, one person describing him to be soulless. Like a vampire, which is one spot on comparison since he looks like one. The look in his eyes had anything but genuine emotion, more malice then anything.

Ghost had seen it all, quite literally during his time on the field. He had no tolerance for slackers and cockiness, and when things needed to get done, they were sure as hell gon done with him. So as he emerged from the darkness of the corner he was in, attention being drawn to him due to the slight ruffling noise of him moving.

“I’ll handle this.” Ghost spoke, voice rough with his Manchester accent being firm. Seems like the lieutenant wants to get this over with as soon as possible, as he left the room. As the door shut behind him, Price smirked and shook his head in amusement.

“Don’t think LT’s gonna blow the guys head off eh?” Soap asked jokingly, not completely forgetting whom they were dealing with.

“Think you mean the other way around.” Gaz replied, looking at the security cameras, seeing the door open to the room their capture was in.

————

M/n looked towards the door, eyebrows raised as he watched Ghost enter the room. His larger figure towering over him in an intimidating manner. Despite this, M/n wasn’t nervous at all. Instead, a cocky grin came upon his features.

“Well this should be interesting.” M/n spoke, tilting his head to the left, hat following in suit as Ghost sat in the chair across from him.

The bigger man crosses his arms, glaring at the man who seemed completely unfazed by his appeal. Ghost was intrigued, sitting back before speaking up.

“Let’s make this quick, you’re working with Makarov and you’ve been supplying him with explosives.” Ghost spoke firmly, voice being the loudest thing in the room besides their breathing.

M/n smirked, looking at Ghost with mischief within his e/c eyes.

“Indeed I have.” M/n spoke, shifting in his chair to sit up straight. “I must say i’m quite impressed that you sll were able to catch me.”

M/n stared right into Ghosts skull, eyes practically stabbing into his entire being. Ghost didn’t falter, reciprocating the stare behind his mask.

“So, do you all plan on keeping me here or-”

“Makarov’s planning an attack somewhere, but we haven’t been able to get a lead on where.” Ghost said, cutting him off quickly. “You work with him, your his supplier, therefore you know where he is.”

Ghost spoke sternly, staring M/n down with a cold and empty look. M/n hummed, chuckling and throwing his head back before looking down into his lap.

“I do, but I have no intention to tell you.” M/n stated, Russian accent making his voice sound oddly mesmerizing. Sexy if anything.

Ghost stared at him, a few minutes of silence going by before he stood up and walked over to M/n. He stood above him, looking down at the restraint man before wrapping his hand around his neck. The s/c skinned male let out a groan, feeling the hand tighten around his neck. He let out an airish chuckle, glaring up at Ghost who glared back.

The male took in a large amount of air when he was released, clearing his throat before speaking up.

“Well that isn’t very polite now isn’t it?” M/n spoke, looking up at Ghost with slightly hooded eyes. “Alright, I’ll tell you what you want.”

M/n rose his hands in defeat, cuffs making a slight clinking sound when he did. Ghost hummed, going back to sit in his chair.

“If you’re gonna talk, do it now.” Ghost said, being completely serious with his words, belligerence underneath his current calm demeanor.

M/n grinned, fixing his position in his chair.

“Makarov is actually planning on attacking close by.” M/n said, looking Ghost in the eye. He didn’t miss how Ghost’s eyes widened, brown irises holding shock.

“You pulling my leg?” Ghost questioned, sitting up. His demeanor changed dramatically, a sense of urgency now in his actions. M/n gave him a blank face, tilting his head before smiling.

“Yeah, besides its not like you’d be able to find him anyway.” M/n said cockily, giving a mischievous smirk. “You soldiers are too easy to get over on, and the only reason you believed me is because I’m hot and have Russian accent.”

Ghost felt like he was seething now, glaring at M/n before standing up.

“Fucking rat.”

Ghost spat before leaving the room. This wasn’t like him, but something about M/n really got under his skin.

A/n: this was lowkey rushed, and I have some editing to do 😅

#gay #male y/n #cod x male reader #gaz x male reader #lgbtq #mw2 x male reader #captain price x male reader #male reader #soap x male reader #ghost x male reader

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 4 months

Text

A Lesson in Love - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Female!Reader (Referred to as Ms. T)

Word Count: 1.8k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Bob Being Adorable; Valentine's Day Shenanigans; Bob Deals with a Lot of Meddlers; Bob Has a Niece Named Phoebe; Reader is Female, but No Physical Description, Reader Referred to as "Ms. T" (The "T" stands for Teacher because I'm so Creative), No Use of Y/N

Summary: Bob has no plans for Valentine's Day. So, he gets set up to meet his niece's very cute teacher instead.

Master List

Bob didn’t really have any specific thoughts on Valentine’s Day. If he had a partner, he would do something special, of course, but he wasn’t bothered by the fact that he spent the last four Valentine’s Days in a row single. He was deployed for three of them and he didn’t have anything planned this Valentine’s Day.

Quietly, he was honestly happy with it. Everyone seemed to put so much stress over a random weekday and he was content to avoid the chaos. But there were several people in his life who were not.

And he was almost completely sure that his mom and Phoenix were scheming behind his back.

“You still don’t have any plans tonight?” Phoenix asked Bob, who shook his head.

“No. I was just going to do some more paperwork and probably call it an early night. Maybe I’ll watch that new documentary that Penny recommended.”

“Please tell me that something in there is a code word,” Fanboy stated, causing Bob to roll his eyes. “Come on, Bob, just let one of us set you up on a blind date.”

“I have a list,” Phoenix offered, but Bob shook his head.

“A first date on Valentine’s Day? That’s a great idea! How could that possibly go wrong?” he returned sarcastically, causing Phoenix and Fanboy to share a look.

But before anyone could speak again, Bob’s phone started to buzz. Fishing it out of his pocket, Bob saw his mom’s contact pop up and excused himself from the table. He answered the call as he walked out of the mess.

“Hey, Ma, what do you need?”

“Why do you just assume that I’m calling because I need something, Robert? A mother can’t just check up on her son?” Bob waited for a moment before his mom added, “Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“Goodbye, Ma.”

“I only ask because I completely forgot that Phoebe’s parent-teacher conference is tonight and your father and I already made plans. I was going to have our neighbor, Ms. Abel, watch her for a few hours, but obviously she can’t attend the parent-teacher conference for us.”

“What time is her parent-teacher conference?”

“Seven.”

“I’ll just watch Phoebe tonight. That's fine, Ma. I’ll pick her up from your house after work.”

“Thank you, sweetheart! And maybe you’ll meet someone there—”

“—Oh, sorry, Ma, there’s an alarm going off, I have to go. Bye.”

“Robert Martin Floyd—”

Bob hung up the phone and sighed to himself before heading back inside the mess. What was it about Valentine’s Day that made everyone lose their minds?

“Who was that?” Phoenix asked as Bob sat back down.

“My ma. She asked me to take my niece to her parent-teacher conference for her.”

“That’s better than paperwork,” Fanboy conceded.

“Is her teacher cute?” Phoenix questioned.

“Do you hear that alarm going off?” Bob suggested, causing Phoenix to roll her eyes.

~~~~~

“Alright, you lead the way,” Bob stated, setting his niece on the ground from the car. “You’re the pilot here, Bee.”

“Come on, Uncle Bob,” Phoebe called, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her. “We’re going to be late!”

“Bee, we’re ten minutes early.”

But Bob still let his niece practically drag him through the halls of her elementary school. Phoebe marched him down the ‘First Grade’ wing and stopped in front of a purple door. But Bob held her back from going inside.

“There’s people in there. Just sit and wait for a little bit. We’re early.”

Bob sat Phoebe down in one of the short chairs meant for children and sat in the similarly short chair beside her. And with his long legs, he looked rather comedic sitting there. Phoebe talked his ear off about all of the art that was hung up and Bob complimented her paintings.

The sound of the door opening caused Bob to turn his head. A couple stepped out of the classroom, followed by Phoebe’s teacher, who was dressed in a soft pink dress with paper hearts that were clearly cut out by her students taped to it. She bid the couple goodbye before turning to Bob and Phoebe, who jumped up from her seat when she realized that it was her turn.

“Hi, Ms. T!”

“Hi, Phoebe,” Ms. T greeted the little girl kindly before turning to Bob.

The wizzo in question awkwardly got to his feet from the child-sized chair under Ms. T’s gaze and tried to subtly smooth his shirt down. Phoebe’s teacher was cute, though he wouldn’t mention that to Phoenix or his mom. She radiated kindness but had that distinct look in her eye that she could quickly knock anyone down a few pegs.

Bob could quickly tell why Phoebe liked her so much.

“And who did you bring with you?” Ms. T asked Phoebe.

“This is my Uncle Bob,” Phoebe stated, pulling Bob forward.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Bob returned, holding out his hand for Ms. T to shake. “My parents couldn’t make it, so I’m standing in for them. I’m Phoebe’s uncle.”

“I already said that,” Phoebe reminded Bob.

“Oh, of course. I’ve seen your names on some of her forms. Please, come in.”

Bob took his seat at the front of the room and was relieved that he wouldn’t have to look ridiculous sitting in a child-sized seat again. Phoebe sat in the hallway, coloring and playing with toys, while Bob and Ms. T discussed her progress.

Ms. T showed Bob a standardized worksheet that listed basic skills with comments about how Ms. T thought that Phoebe was doing. Bob listened to her comments on Phoebe’s performance intently and was relieved to find out that they were pretty much all positive.

“The only area that I think that Phoebe can improve on is her confidence,” Ms. T stated, causing Bob to nod. “She’s smart and a very thoughtful little girl. And if I thought she knew that I wouldn’t say anything, but I don’t think she does. There’s nothing wrong with being quiet or shy, but I don’t want her to ever get discouraged or down on herself.”

“Shyness runs in our family,” Bob stated, causing Ms. T to smile softly. “My dad’s side. So, this isn’t a shock.”

“How is Phoebe at home?”

“She won’t stop talking or bossing me around, but I understand that school with kids her own age is a different environment from that.”

“Yes, it is. She’s very outgoing if it’s one on one or if she’s with her friends, but she just needs a little more support in public situations.”

“I could try and come to more of her school events. I’ll talk to my Captain about moving some things in my schedule,” Bob suggested, causing Phoebe’s teacher to nod. “Not that my mom isn’t here to support Phoebe, but I don’t think that she knows the meaning of the word ‘shy.’”

“I can understand that,” Ms. T mused, chuckling softly. “Well, I can give you a list of some class events that we have between now and the end of the year.”

She got up from her table and walked to the back of the room to grab a piece of paper. Scribbling something on it quickly, she walked back over and handed the paper to Bob, whose eyes immediately dropped to the number that she had written down.

“I’m assuming that your mom already has it, but that’s the number to my school phone. And my email too. And here is the kids’ schedule,” she continued, pulling out another piece of paper and handing it over to Bob. “You can feel free to call me during any of the breaks that you see where they’re in specials or lunch.”

“Thank you,” Bob replied, smiling kindly in return. “I’ll let you know what events I can make.”

They walked out to the hallway and Phoebe quickly popped up from her table and came trotting over. Staring up at her Uncle Bob with that distinct begging look that Bob always ended up cracking for, Phoebe glanced between Bob and her teacher.

“Ice cream?”

“Yeah, I think we can get ice cream,” Bob agreed, kneeling down to Phoebe’s height. “But if grandma asks?”

“We got brussel sprouts.”

“That’s right.”

Phoebe smiled and bounced in place, eager to go. She bid goodbye to Ms. T, promising to see her tomorrow, before grabbing Bob’s hand and urging him away.

“It was nice meeting you,” Bob called back to Ms. T, who laughed and waved goodbye to them.

“I hope to see you again,” she returned before Phoebe tugged Bob around the corner.

~~~~~

Four Months Later . . .

“Phoebe Floyd,” Ms. T called out.

The crowd of family members—and several supportive naval aviators—cheered as Phoebe jogged across the stage. Ms. T gave her a little badge to signify that she was now a second grader before gently nudging her to join her other classmates.

And once they went through the rest of the kids, the day wrapped up. Bob picked up Phoebe and spun her around until his mom urged him to put her down so that they could take family pictures. After a few, Phoebe tugged on Bob’s hand until he bent down to her level. Phoebe leaned over and cupped her hands around his ear.

“Ms. T needs help carrying stuff back to the classroom.”

“Yeah?” Bob asked, causing Phoebe to nod quickly before leaning in again.

“Can I be the flower girl?” Phoebe added, earning a choked sound from her uncle.

Ms. T was in the middle of gathering the decorations when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning around, she smiled softly when she saw Bob jogging over to her.

“Need any help?”

“I won’t turn it down.”

“So, are you excited for summer vacation?” Bob asked Ms. T, who nodded in return. “Do you have any plans?”

“I was hoping that some cute naval aviator with these big dorky glasses and these big blue eyes was going to ask me on a date,” Ms. T stated, causing Bob to flush with embarrassment. “But I don’t know if that will ever happen.”

“Well, maybe he was waiting for you to no longer be his niece’s teacher before asking you out,” Bob replied, taking the box from her hands. “Which reminds me, do you have any plans for Friday night?”

“I do now,” Ms. T replied with a wide smile.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm fanfiction #tgm #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob x reader #bob #bob floyd #bob fluff #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader

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darylsfavoritegirl · 3 months

Note

Can you do a Daryl fic where you fuck and then he says he’s not into labels :( and it makes u sad and comfort

I love this idea !!! lesss goo

A/N: Sorry if these are taking longer than you thought!! im putting myself all in between the breaks i manage to get from school lol. I liked this personally, not sure if i managed to put out a good "comfort" though but there you go anon!

Your eyes flickered at Daryl's scars covering his entire back alongside of his tattoos that looked very much like to having been done by an amateur. You had been wondering their story for a long time now, yet never had the courage to question him vulgarly.

You moved your legs restlessly under the thin sheets, feeling his seeds sticking to your thighs and dripping onto the bed.

He was never at ease with such things. From the very beginning of your "relationship" that is, just warming eachother's bed on these aggravating days of the apocalpyse, where former human beings becoming foes to the geniune humanity. Hence, you always had to wait for him to leave first. There'd be nights so lewd, so scarlet that he'd feel adequate enough to let his guard down now and then. He'd fall next to you on the bed. He'd try to maintain his heaving chest as he'd cover up his downer body with sheets and would just lie down, your bodies so close to eachother, so warm that you'd feel sheltered against his bare skin. And then, he'd bend down to grab his denim jeans and take out the pack of cigarattes you'd looted from a walker's jackets earlier.

At times, there'd be enough to last you a week but at other times there'd be so little amount that you would share one. He would pass a cigaratte to you that he had taken a long drag of. You'd draw the cigaratte to your lips, savoring the tip of the cigaratte he'd moistened with his lips.

But on this specific night, both of you were high on joints. These thoughts entangled your mind as your attention shifted on the flexing muscles on his back while he put on a t-shirt.

You spoke your mind, without giving it a second thought nor being aware of his upcoming run with Glenn and Rick tomorrow early in the morning.

"Why don't you sleep here?" You uttered low, tracing your knuckles across the downy sheet incase he'd turn to face you, you couldn't dare.

"Why, are ya need in company?" He grunted in a headlessness manner as if to drop a joke. You despised how he practically didn't pay any attention to it.

You felt blood rushing to your face. The humid already made it unendurable to stay under the sheet and now this. You took deep, instable breaths.

"No." Your voice was unexpectedly trembling slightly. You shook your head as you scoffed. Now, he was facing you.

"It's just..." You were already in remorse, wishing you hadn't even started this conversation in the first place. You bit the inside of your cheek as you cracked your knuckles out of apprehension.

You felt his piercing gaze sticking upon your forehead, yet you rejected to meet with his gaze until you found something to say that didn't make you look, perhaps, desperate.

"It just gets lonely in this side of the prison." You uttered, finally lifting your head to see him buckling his jeans. You had expressed this countless times in conversations with a different context. Rick had decided to put you in a cellblock away from the others when you first joined them and he didn't change his decision ever since.

"Gon' ask me ta snuggle, too?" He quipped, a subtle sly smirk played on the corner of his lips. He tapped on his pockets as he scanned the small cell for his belongings that he might've dropped.

A sense of indignity overwhelmed you, leaving you feeling overstimulated. You couldn't grumble. He wasn't a boyfriend that owed you courtesy after screwing your brains out. He wasn't someone like that after all. Nonetheless, you loathed at the thought of a huge difference between men and women. How insensitive they could be, how insensitive he could be.

You were very well aware of your relationship, you'd both made it clear to not turn this into anything it wasn't. However, you couldn't resist the longing yearning in your heart.

"Jerk." You simply said as you turned your back to him. You placed your hands under the pillow, resting your head on it. All those thoughts, yet "jerk" was the only thing you made it through your lips. You locked your eyes on the shabby wall, slowly breathing as all you were hearing was his movements behind you. He was so dazed that he couldn't comprehend you nor your course of actions.

"Got'a get sum' shit done in the mornin'." He spoke to himself as he was wearing his leather boots.

"Ya know, with Glenn n' Rick." He added followed by his grunts as he leaned forward to tie his bootlaces.

"The sun shines on this side of the prison, too. You know?" You uttered quietly. Your tone must've caugh his attention as he stopped tying his laces and leaned back on the chair bit by bit. He sighed as he rested his hands on his knees.

"What the hell 's dis all 'bout?" He spoke low with an irritated tone. He scowled at not getting an answer from you.

You wrapped your hands around you, staring at him with softly quaking brows. He stood there with a clenched jaw, eyeing you with squinted eyes.

"Now ya dun' talk?" He spat, chewing his bottom lip as he grabbed his jacket on the bedside table.

"Ya damn well kno' how ta kill a good night." He scoffed derisively, hearing a exasperated sigh from you.

He turned his head to you, giving you a spine-chilling glare.

"Don't ya?" His voice grew taller as you observed the vein throbbing on his neck.

"Keep it down." You exclaimed, shifting your position on the bed in a rush. The bed sank under the weight of your knees as you incompetently tried to cover yourself with the sheets.

His eyes flicked through your bare body for a brief moment as he forced himself to look you in the eyes. You felt subjected to his deviant gaze, a sense of shame flooding your every cell.

"Nah." He firmly uttered.

"Rick threw ya in dis cellblock for a reason." His tone above a whisper.

" 'Cuz ya stir up sum' drama."

"All the damn time."

"Dun' miss a chance, like clockwork."

He locked his eyes on yours. Dark shadows roaming his face. Your face got hot as you had to wait to process his words, what they could've meant.

"Those joints have caused you a mental block." You hissed, not understanding even a bit why he would've say something like that.

"Fuck off." You shrugged your shoulders as you threw your body on the bed, leering at the ceiling.

"It ain't tha'." He uttered, you could sense him leaning against the wall.

"Then what? All this because I asked you to sleep with me?" Your hands met over your chest, crossed. You could hear his shallow breaths, contemplating the best thing to say. You knew he'd fail. A moment passed as neither of you spoke. He took a deep breath

" 'S cuz ya wanna go for childish fantasies." He grunted.

"Like 's sum' kinda game." He spoke, one could sense the palpable thickness of weariness in his voice. It was like he had questioned it a thousand time before you even brought it up. His heavy words lingered in the air, unraveling all the things he never even told you. You could sense it.

"It isn't." You abruptly begged. You needed him to know that you understood his way of seeings things, his way of seeing you. You knew you shouldn't corner him. You didn't.

"Forget it." He huffed with exhaustion as he left the cell.

"Night." You mumbled, knowing he didn't even hear you. You didn't even bother to get up and grab your clothes lying on the floor as you were nothing but flabbergasted. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling, hearing the cicadas singing outside of the prison.

A tear rolled down to your temple and your hand shifted to the side of your face reflexively. You sniffed your nose and shook your head in apace. You got up slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed fully naked. You sticked your eyes to the wall infront of you, fearsome of even uttering a word to yourself in this godforsaken cellblock.

You reached your hand to the panties he threw to the floor as all you could hear was muffled conversations from people on watch. You exhaled, the futile argument which broke out of nonsense didn't support your brain to not grow more lethargic thanks to the joints.

The world around you started to spin, leaving you out of kilter as you had to screw your eyes shut. You wore your bra and as you were done with clasping it, you drank what felt like a gallon of water.

You topped it with a dirty t-shirt and left your body uncovered to the humid of the south on your bed.

What did he think? That you were gonna be just fine with just fucking. How long before you started to feel things, that you wanted more.

You blamed yourself, too soon you thought. Maybe it wasn't. There was no way to know.

You woke up to the sun breaking through your eyelids. You fell asleep to overthinking hence the penetrating headache. You swallowed dryily as you tossed your body to the water bottle next to you and gulped it down agressively to a point where it dripped down your neck to the floor.

You spent your day within the fences of the prison casually, helping people run errands and talking about the run three of the solid men in your group went.

You were in the hall where you kept your food in, cleaning your pistol and weapons so that they're more handy. You furrowed due to your focus on the weapons when you heard a few sighs out of relief drawing near to the hall.

You lifted your head, awating to see who it was with your growing curiousity. Your face loosened at the sight of Daryl and lowered it to your weapons once again, exhaling subtly.

He put his crossbow and poncho on the table, fixating his eyes at you. You wrinkled your forehead, trying to ignore his existence but you were only growing to be distracted even more, with him standing there and observing you.

You suddenly lifted your gaze, exhaling exasperatedly with your hands sagging between your knees. Dirty rags and utensils accumulating a thick layer of dirt on your hands.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, sighing dramatically.

"...What?" You huffed, wishing nothing but to be left alone.

" 'M sorry." He muttered under his breath, making it impossible to be heard.

"You're what?" You let out a frustrated growl with his fancy words.

" 'Bout last night." He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, concealing every bit of an emotion peeking on the way.

"What about it?" You forced a downward smirk, trying to seem cool.

"C'mon." He simply said, looking rather bewildered with you. He looked as if he didn't know where to put his hands or what to do with his body.

"Your fine." You huffed, focusing on the weapons.

"I's bein' a dick 's all." He begged, taking a step towards you.

"Yeah you were." You scoffed tauntingly, not looking at his direction. You observed his boots and exhausted steps drawing towards you as you maintained your focus on the dirty rag in your hand.

"Ya kno' I'ma set things right." He was so near you that you had to raise your head to look at him. You were sitting on the frontstep of smaller cellar in the hall, he looked down at you. Your eyes filled with a flamey look as he stayed put.

"Per usual." You forced a sham smile, wishing he'd sense the sarcasm in your tone.

Seeing that he wasn't getting out of the way, you instantly got up as you rolled your eyes. You leered at him.

"Will you please get out of my way?" You hissed, maintaining a stern eye contact like a rock.

He remained silent without blinking.

"Dun' do dis." He mumbled.

You felt heat rising to your head, slowly gritting your teeth.

"So now it's my fault?" You barked between your heaving chest. You digged your nails into your palm, your face getting redder each second.

He remained silent once again as he placed his burly left hand to your waist, burying his forehead on your shoulder. As you were at the brink of pushing his body, hands softly grabbing him by the shoulders.

"A herd nearly took us out today." He breathed against your skin.

Your hand fell loose down his body as your eyes widened and you let out a soft sigh. His hair tickled under your chin as you felt him breathing shallowly against your skin. Your eyes fixated on the entrance gate as you didn't know what to say or do.

You felt your eyes twitching along with your bottom lip as his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, your body flooding with goosebumps.

"Almost got Rick." He added after a few second that felt like a decade.

"I'm sorry. I- I-" You made it out through a shaky voice as he lifted his head, his hand still gripping your waist.

"Ain't yer fault." He slowly ambled toward the table where he left his crossbow on.

"Jus' made me get mah head al' together." He spoke as if there was no one in the hall. He slunged his crossbow on his body and rubbed his face as he let out a frustrated sigh.

"There ain't no reason ta be a damn douchebag." He added, eyeballing you as he placed his hands on his hips.

You were left with thousands of feelings, thoughts lining in your head leaving you stay put like a statue with no form of life whatsoever. Your brows were raised, lip bottom still trembling yet you managed a hold on it. He threw his poncho on his shoulder as he got close to the hall gate.

"Come to my cell tonight." You insisted with soulful, intense eyes right before he left.

You saw him nodding his head discreetly as he chewed on his bottom lip.

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