Can You Write A Jealous Robby Keene Smut?

Mrs Magic M.S

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: princess matt ☺️🎀💖

author's note: guys i'm in terrible writters block 😓😓 also im gonna start tilting my stuff after songs 😆😆🤘🤘

My eyes slowly flicker open, them feeling heavy from wanting to close back again.

I notice how the bed felt empty, so I look over and I see that Matt isn't in the bed, which made me confused.

I hear noises such as grunts and a thud hitting the floor, so I immediately whip my head, from what it seems, Matt is trying to do a backflip, clearly not aware that I'm up.

I giggle, confused, "Matt?" My voice raspy and soft.

Matt yelps, falling flat on his face. He turns his head to look at me, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Y/N, you scared the shit out of me!" He groans, pushing himself onto his elbows.

I laugh hard at his defeat as I turn over to lay on my back to see and face him properly, sighing with a smile once I am.

"Dude, what are you doing?" I question, rubbing my eye with a smile.

Matt rolls his eyes and grins at me. "Look how flexible I am!" He says, trying to get up into a handstand as I giggle. "Come on, try it with me," He says, giggling as he tries to get into a handstand.

"No, there is no way I'd be doing that," I reply raspily, sitting up in the bed with the covers wrapped around me.

"Chicken," Matt taunts, falling back onto the bed with a huff. "I'll have to make you try sometime." His eyes sparkle mischievously as he pushes himself into a sitting position, looking at me with a challenging grin.

I roll my eyes, failing to hide a smile. I lay back down before letting out a relaxed sigh, and removing the covers from me to welcome Matt in.

"Come here," I say softly, gesturing him to come with my arms and hands.

Matt immediately climbs on top of me, and buries his face literally in between my breasts as he makes a "brr" sound with his mouth while shaking his head.

It caught me off guard, a gasp leaving my mouth as I cradle his head softly to stop him.

"What has gotten into you today?" I ask softly through a disbelief laugh, lifting his face from my chest, so he'll look at me as he giggles.

The day barely started, and he's all over the place. I think he's finally comfortable enough to be himself around me.

I smile and try to get up from underneath him, Matt's expression immediately dropping.

He takes my arm gently as he keeps his weight on me, "No, stay with me," His voice being soft and low.

Escapism

Topper Thornton x Reader

Summary: Your brother always stayed up with you whenever you couldn’t sleep and nothing has changed now that his best friend is the reason for your late nights.

warnings: Dub-Con, stepcest, cheating, toxic relationship, semi-public sex, jealousy, secret relationship, side of Rafe x reader, lots of playing in Rafe's face, kook!reader, non canon ages

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

⭑

You were a shitty girlfriend.

Perhaps, in some ways, you were being too harsh on yourself because it wasn’t like Rafe would ever win boyfriend of the year. The blond came with a plethora of issues that could only be fixed with therapy—something you probably wouldn’t even be able to pay him to do—and he chose to handle every single one with one horrible coping mechanism after the next. When it was all said and done though, you really only had yourself to blame.

It wasn’t like you were a stranger to the man before you started dating him.

You knew Rafe well—you’d grown up with him—so was it really his fault that you chose to ignore every single thing you knew about him in the hopes that he would mature and change? Was it his fault that you forgave him time and time again with the hopes that he could still change? Was he the asshole for being him or were you the asshole for going into this with the expectation he’d be something he wasn’t?

“Come on,” Topper would say to you in the dead of night. “You and I both know what he’s like—what he’s always been like.”

It was usually after he’d listen to you cry over Rafe and whatever girl he’d kissed or whatever awful thing he’d said to you, pupils blown and alcohol on his breath. He’d pull you to sit back, hands rubbing over your arms in an attempt to calm you down. It was always well into the night when you both should’ve been asleep, but per your routine as of late, you’d be waiting up for Rafe to call or text or walk through the door.

Anything to let you know he wasn’t passed out drunk in a ditch somewhere.

“Rafe can take care of himself just fine.”

Or some variation of that would reach your ears, and you’d press your hands to your face in exhaustion. You’d never miss the bitterness—borderline malice—in Topper’s voice as he said something like that. You knew it wasn’t directed at you, but more so your relationship with the other blond as a whole and his frustration with it. Topper never wanted you to date Rafe, and you knew he took no pleasure in watching Rafe prove him right.

Rafe may have been his best friend…

…but you were ten and Topper was twelve when his mother married your father. He’d been protective of you since day one, having been an only child before that, and you knew that he hated having to let you make your own choices and mistakes with the guy you’d both once called a friend. If you and Rafe came out of this relationship intact, you doubted you’d ever call him ‘friend’ again.

He’d hurt you too much for that.

You weren’t a bad girlfriend for thinking such thoughts. Nor were you a bad girlfriend for trying to break up with him on several occasions, something Rafe would always talk you out of with promises of remorse and change. You didn’t even think you were a bad girlfriend for venting about your frustration and hurt to his best friend—your stepbrother.

You were a shitty girlfriend for allowing something to continue that should’ve ended years ago.

Fed up with talking about Rafe and how badly he’d hurt your feelings earlier in the day, Topper had pressed his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up with a kiss. A kiss that you returned, shoulders sagging and a weight lifting off of your chest as his arms circled around your waist. Rafe had called you a nag hours before, subsequently telling you he wouldn’t be staying over before hanging up without another word.

It had hurt you, but you were sure Topper was just relieved to have you all to himself.

Or at the very least, wouldn’t be tempted to fuck you anyway—Rafe under the same roof be damned.

You both were quiet in the dark living room—your parents asleep upstairs—and the longer you kissed him, the more you just wanted to forget about Rafe. The t-shirt you wore was bunching up under the blonde’s hands, and you gasped when his mouth trailed down to your neck. You could feel how much he wanted you, and any other night you would’ve loved to drag this out, but much like Topper…

You just wanted to feel him inside of you.

You never wore any underwear to bed, both for convenience and just because. It was something Topper had come to appreciate, and when you helped him pull his shorts down, cock springing free, you couldn’t slide down the couch fast enough. He hooked one hand under your thigh, helping you and dragging you closer, the other squeezing his cock with long strokes.

He rubbed the tip of himself against you a few times, coating the head in your essence, unsurprised at how wet and ready for him you already were. The feel made you bite the inside of your cheek, lifting your hips in an attempt to get him to sink into you even if just a little. You didn’t miss the soft chuckle that rang through the air.

“I’m sorry,” he huskily told you, pushing into you with one slow thrust. “Is that better?”

You hated his mocking tone, but not as much as you loved the feel of him stretching you out. You clawed at him, pulling him closer, sighing into his mouth when he finally kissed you again. The movements of his hips were slow, too afraid to do too much and make too much noise. The pace was enough to make your head spin and was definitely enough to make you squirm beneath him. When you started lifting your hips to meet him halfway, he groaned into the kiss.

Rafe was the furthest thing from your mind.

Sliding your hands up Topper’s frame, you threaded your fingers through his hair, nails lightly dragging along his scalp. By the way he shuddered against you, you knew that he liked that. Every snap of his hips into yours had you swallowing down every noise that threatened to escape. His cock stroked your walls in a way that made you squeeze your eyes shut.

Shifting, you felt his hand slide down to rest on the inside of your thigh, pushing it and spreading it until your leg hung off of the couch. At that, you did gasp, a choaked sound escaping your lips before you snapped them shut. His free hand was beside your head now, forearm resting on the couch cushion. You both were quiet, but your soft labored breathing could still be heard if you listened hard enough.

When you softly moaned his name, he shushed you.

“I want…” you fought to catch your breath enough to speak. “I want you to come inside of me.”

You felt another shiver travel up his spine, head falling into the crook of your neck at that. You knew he wasn’t close, but you felt like making that known. It wasn’t something you both made a habit of, but you loved the feel of Topper spilling into you, cock twitching as he coated your walls in his release. When you pushed against his hand, he got the hint, and you circled his waist with your legs, ankles hooking at the small of his back.

Topper took his time fucking you.

He often did, feeling no need to rush or no fear that you’d get caught. You didn’t know if he was just that confident in how quickly you could pull yourselves together or that it simply wouldn’t happen. Some part of you wondered if maybe he just didn’t care. You knew that couldn’t be true for several reasons, the most pressing being your boyfriend.

It was funny.

Rafe had probably cheated on you more times than you actually knew of, but the minute some other guy looked at you for even just a second too long, he was gearing up for a fight. You didn’t know if he was performative or just that skilled at compartmentalization, but you hated it. What good did it do for him to act so noble and possessive when way too many people knew how much he’d embarrassed you over the past six months?

You didn’t doubt that he’d try to kill Topper in some coked out rage if he ever knew.

Topper’s hand was cupping your breast under your shirt as he pressed kisses to your neck and jaw. He was whispering in your ear, telling you how good you felt and how wet you were, and how much he wanted to feel you coming around him. He knew what to say to send you over the edge, and at the first sound, he covered your mouth in another kiss to swallow your moans.

You squeezed him tight, walls clenching as he fucked you through your climax, cock plunging into your soaking cunt as he chased his own. His thrusts grew sloppy, and they weren’t as languid, and his blond strands kissed your forehead as they grew messy and awkward with sweat. Your legs had long fallen around him, and you pressed your hand against his lower back.

When he came, he buried his face into where your neck and shoulder met, groaning into the skin. You shuddered at the feel of him spilling into you, still clenching around him as remnants of your orgasm finally started to dissipate. His breathing was heavy against your skin before pulling back just enough to touch his forehead to yours.

You could only hear your efforts to catch your breath.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

You nodded, positive he could feel the action against his forehead. You fingered the top of his shorts, and you bit your lip. You didn’t say it back often—something you still had trouble accepting and admitting—but you told him enough so that he’d never doubt it.

“Can I stay in your room tonight?” you quietly asked him. “Rafe probably won’t come over until after noon…if he comes over, at all.”

You tried not to let your voice shrink at the thought, but Topper caught it anyway. Pulling out of you and sitting up, he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him. Righting himself, he pulled you to your feet, his other hand pushing his hair away from his face.

“You know you never have to ask,” he told you.

His hands were comfortably on your waist as he followed behind you, guiding you upstairs.

“What…? You got a problem or something?”

You knew it was coming when you were the only one who wasn’t laughing, unamused as he recounted his tale of how he’d cornered Pope. You’d never known the other guy to get into any trouble or bother anyone, and while you knew there would never be anything you could do about whatever petty rivalry your brother and your boyfriend and their friends involved themselves in, Pope just seemed like low hanging fruit.

He wasn’t even the type to fight back.

“I just don’t find it funny,” was all you said, squinting under the harsh rays of the sun. “You know Pope’s not even like that. I might’ve laughed if it were JJ or…I don’t know…someone who would actually put up a fight.”

Rafe’s entire demeanor clouded over at that, and you were prepared for whatever was about to come out of his mouth when Topper spoke.

“Rafe,” the other blond warned. “Chill.”

He seemed to anticipate Rafe’s ire just as much as you did, and Rafe paused, glancing at his best friend before huffing. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing you with that cold blue gaze of his. The sun shone off of his dirty blond strands, the tresses curtained along his forehead, and you watched him bring his hand up to rest against his lips before finally settling on a better response than what you both knew you almost got.

“So, what are you trying to say?”

Choosing to end this fight before it even began, you sighed, looking away.

“I’m not saying anything, Rafe. You can do whatever you want,” you murmured. “You always do.”

He heard that loud and clear, and the laugh he let out wasn’t humorous in the slightest. You heard him roughly get up from his seat, chair scraping against the wooden floor. You watched him snatch his glass off the table, mumbling something about needing a refill but not before making a comment to Topper that was solely intended for you.

“Get your sister, Top,” your boyfriend drawled, making you cross your arms over your chest.

You could feel the man in question’s eyes on you, and you avoided his gaze.

“Sometimes I swear you like fighting with him just as much as he does you.”

At that, you scoffed, looking at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t laugh because he beat up Pope Heyward…and that was apparently a problem,” you pointed out to which Topper merely shrugged, unable to disagree. “I apologize for not finding it funny.”

“Babe,” he softly said, reaching out and touching your arm. “He’s a Pogue, and you know how Rafe is.”

His excuse for Rafe’s behavior only made you roll your eyes, and you heard him sigh as you reached for your stuff. He said your name, trying to get you to sit back down, but you were only more determined to leave once you caught sight of Kelce walking up the steps to the restaurant too. Dealing with all three of them at once was enough to give you a coronary.

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t answer Rafe as you passed him on his way back to the table, ignoring Kelce too when he said hey to you. You hated to take it out on him when he didn’t actually do anything this time, but you knew his mindset was just as bad as Rafe’s, and so you figured it was preemptively deserved. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Rafe was going to talk shit about you the second you were out of sight.

It was one of those days where you really felt emboldened to finally break up with him for good. Rafe hadn’t been good to you nor right for you since the beginning, and you knew that if Topper was a lesser person, he would’ve said ‘I told you so’ a million times by now. You were grateful that he didn’t make you feel worse for being naïve enough to ever believe in Rafe Cameron.

Although, some part of you wondered if having you crawl into his bed night after night was satisfaction enough.

It was hours later when he was softly apologizing for both his and Rafe’s behavior, fingers digging into your waist as you pushed yourself down onto him. Rafe had long fallen asleep, his light snores easing your worry as you’d snuck out of your room. Topper was awake—as you’d hoped—and it was true that you’d only intended to talk. Rafe’s attitude hadn’t been much better when you finally reunited again, something you were sure Topper had overheard.

“You really want to talk about Rafe, right now?” he’d whispered, hand sliding along your thigh.

“Topper,” you’d quietly hissed in warning. “Not…tonight. He’s…”

You didn’t need to finish that sentence, feeling no need to as you gestured towards his door. The blond had fixed you with a look that made your stomach flip, a hint of a smirk dancing along his pink lips as he held your gaze.

“That’s never stopped us before.”

You’d swallowed at that, feeling unsure, but that was a feeling that had never stopped the other man before either. The first time he’d ever kissed you, you’d felt unsure, but Topper hadn’t cared, holding you to him and fingering you on the back deck while his mother threw some grand party downstairs. You still remembered the way you came around his fingers, an admission of insecurities somehow leading to your first ever sexual experience—and with your own stepbrother no less.

“Topper,” you’d quietly warned when he brushed his lips against yours. “Rafe…”

“Do…not…talk about him, right now,” he’d slowly said, fingers grazing along your folds just as slow.

Despite your hand against his shoulder, he’d laid you down, lips finding the skin just under your jaw.

“He’s the last thing I want to talk about, right now.”

…and he’d meant it, curving his fingers into you while pressing open mouthed kisses to your jaw and throat and collarbone. Any protest you had was swallowed down and quickly forgotten at the slick feeling between your legs, Topper’s fingers sinking into your cunt with ease. Your own twisted into the fabric of his shirt, hips lifted towards his hand, fighting to swallow down a whimper each time his thumb circled your clit.

“Fuck,” he’d cursed into your skin. “I love how wet you get for me.”

It wasn’t long after that that he was hurrying to get inside of you, shirts and shorts discarded as he pulled you on top of him. When you sank down onto him, he’d sighed, throwing his head back and lifting his hips. With your hands on his stomach, you’d lifted yourself until the tip of his cock just barely remained inside of you before sliding back down.

You gently bounced on top of him, hyper aware of who was just in the other room. You could tell that Topper wasn’t a huge fan, feeling that you had to pick one between being on top and being gentle, but it couldn’t be both. When his hands slid up your frame, they rested on the sides of your neck before pulling you down. Your eyes fell closed when you kissed him, and you gasped into his mouth when he lifted his hips, driving himself up into you.

You mentally cursed, realizing you’d been tricked.

With his hands quickly sliding down to snake around your waist, Topper wasted no time in lifting his hips to push his cock up into you. The force of his thrusts had you squeezing him in more ways than one, lips parted and eyes tight as he roughly fucked himself up into you. His bed shook under his movements, and you couldn’t stop yourself from whining into his mouth, the sound of him sinking into you reaching your ears.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he hummed, one hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

When his bed knocked into the wall, he halted his movements, using the moment to both catch his breath and listen. Your own heart stuttered, digging your nails into his chest because you’d literally told Topper so. Once Rafe was knocked out, it was usually pretty hard to wake him up, but it would be just your luck that this night of all nights he’d be a light sleeper.

You really didn’t want to imagine the chaos if he left your room in search of you only to find his best friend balls deep inside of you.

When no worrying sounds reached your ears, Topper took that as a sign to continue, knees bent as he thrust up into you again. You could tell he was close by the way his cock twitched inside of you, and something nagged in the back of your mind about that. When you attempted to pull yourself off of him, he held you tighter.

“Topper,” you gasped, a warning in your tone. “Don’t-.”

Your words were abruptly swallowed when he rolled you both, pinning you beneath him and jerking his hips into yours. The rough and fast pace had you momentarily forgetting your train of thought, weakly pushing against his stomach. You both knew why you didn’t want him to finish inside of you, but he didn’t seem to care about Rafe possibly sinking into you in the early hours of the morning with his best friend’s cum dried along your folds.

You yelped when you came, a roaring sound in your ears as you felt him do the same, filling you up with a grunt. His hips didn’t stop snapping against yours the entire time, fucking you through it and fucking his cum into you. He had you completely caged beneath him, and all you could do was quietly milk his cock, toes curling as you scratched at his back.

When clarity finally hit, the fog lifting, you roughly pushed him away. You didn’t miss his quiet chuckle, and you didn’t spare him a glance as you reached for your oversized t-shirt—his t-shirt.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mumbled, pulling it over your head and slapping his hand away when he reached down to slide his fingers between your sticky folds.

You didn’t spare Topper another glance before hurrying out of his room.

You kept your eyes on Rafe as he flew down the road, the loud music making his truck almost vibrate. He was ignoring you, preoccupied with his conversation with Kelce who was in the passenger seat. It was funny because the only one with a right to be mad was you, recalling the fight you’d had on the beach not even an hour ago.

“She was all over you, and you just stood there and let it happen,” you’d yelled at him, feeling humiliated for the umpteenth time.

“I barely remember what that girl even looks like,” was his reply, pupils blown. “It was nothing, baby.”

You had slapped his hand away when he reached for you, unmoved by the way his countenance darkened. The sounds of the party just down the beach only served to remind you how you felt when you walked up on him with his hand on some girl’s waist, her lips trailing kisses along his neck. You could tell she was drunk, and instead of pushing her away, Rafe just entertained it.

Your eyes had only met for half a second before you were turning away.

You didn’t even know why he chased you down the beach, and that was what you’d told him.

“You’re not sorry…you don’t feel bad, and you know what? You’ll probably do worse two weeks from now, so why are you even here?”

You’d shrugged at him, certain your confusion was evident on your face.

“Look, it was nothing,” he’d spat at you. “Once again, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

That had actually made you laugh, tears kissing your eyes.

“If you caught me cozying up to any guy with half the effort that she was with you…you would lose your shit, and you know it,” you’d sneered, watching his jaw tick. “I would love to see the look on your face if I fucked someone else.”

He’d gotten in your face, his finger almost touching your eye.

“I was barely touching her-.”

“That wasn’t the case three months ago,” you threw in his face. “…and I can only imagine what I don’t know about.”

Rafe’s nostrils had flared, and for a split second, you swore you saw some shame pass through his blue gaze. It was gone just as quickly as it came though, anger replacing it instead.

“You wouldn’t dare, you wouldn’t fucking dare,” he bit out, invading your personal space. “I said I was sorry, and you said you forgave me, so don’t think you can use that as an excuse to go fuck some asshole who clearly doesn’t value his life.”

His words had only made you angrier, and you had to bite your tongue to keep your face even, recalling the feel of Topper’s cock inside of you just thirty minutes before Rafe came to pick you both up. You and your boyfriend had stared each other down for a few moments more before he spoke again.

“I’d love to see you do that,” he finally said, shrugging. “I would love to see you try when you can’t even stick to staying broken up with me.”

His words had the desired effect, and you’d felt your face fall.

“Now, you’re trying to convince me you’d ever have the nerve to cheat on me?” he’d wondered, fingers grazing his own chest. “Don’t make me laugh.”

He’d left you with a scoff, and you hadn’t been able to stop your tears from spilling over. All you’d ever tried to do was routinely look for and believe in the best in Rafe, and you couldn’t believe that he threw that in your face like some insult. Maybe it was an insult though…because how many times were you going to let him show you exactly who he was? How many times were you going to let him play in your face?

The day after you’d confronted him about sleeping with some girl—only privy to the information because of none other than Topper—you’d cried yourself to sleep. It was always little things before that, but that incident was what broke you, allowing Topper to slip into your room and wrap his arms around you. It was reminiscent of a time where he used to sneak into your room almost every night, your parents none the wiser to what went on underneath their roof. You’d been eighteen then, Topper twenty, and you both mutually agreed to putting a stop to it.

However, that night, his mind had clearly gone to the same place yours had.

When he kissed you, you’d pulled him closer, and two years after you ended your forbidden dalliance, you resumed it again. For a few hours, you’d forgotten all about Rafe and what he did and just basked in the feel of Topper pushing his cock into you, embarrassingly turned on because of how much you’d missed him. You hadn’t paid any mind to the countless phone calls and texts that were blowing up your phone, no one else but Rafe and his vain attempts to fix what he did.

The day you forgave him, you knew you were making a huge mistake.

Rafe throwing the grace you’d shown him in your face had you stomping to his truck. You’d ignored the feel of eyes on you, knowing it wasn’t Rafe, opting to slide in the backseat without acknowledging him. Kelce—ever the standup guy—just pretended not to notice the tension between you and his friend as he slid into the passenger seat. The moment Rafe’s truck was on the road—music blaring through the vehicle—you’d grabbed Topper’s hand.

He didn’t protest at all when you dragged it across your thigh, pushing his fingers between your legs.

…and that was how you found yourself watching Rafe, keeping your eyes on him not because you actually wanted to, but because you didn’t need him looking over his shoulder. Even if he did, it was dark, but still, you weren’t exactly emotionless as Topper slid his fingers in and out of you. Your lips were parted, and your chest was heaving, and even though all that could really be heard was whatever rap song Rafe put on, you were still pulling your lip between your teeth.

You reached out to grip the door handle when Topper added another finger, his hand soaked in you, and you reached down to place your own hand on top of his. You spread your legs a little more, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lifting your hips a bit. You were thankful for the music, certain that if the truck were quieter, they’d be able to hear the wet sounds of his fingers pushing between your folds.

He pulled them in and out of you for the duration of the ride, just slowly stroking you and teasing you. Every time you started to tighten around his fingers, he’d stop, just letting them sit there long enough for you to come down from a high that quite never happened. Like clockwork, he’d start moving his fingers again, and he only fully pulled them out of you—underwear snapping back into place—when Rafe pulled into his driveway.

He'd sucked them clean by the time Rafe and Kelce opened their doors, and when your boyfriend saw that neither of you were moving, he paused. You crossed your arms over your chest when he glanced at you, throwing him a frown.

“I need to talk to Y/N for a minute,” Topper told him, and Rafe only scoffed.

“Please do,” he mockingly said, tone full of arrogance as he wrongly assumed what the conversation would be about. “…because I didn’t do shit, and I’m tired of your sister blowing things out of proportion.”

That last part was aimed at you, and you only coolly met your boyfriend’s gaze before he slammed the door shut.

“He’s such an asshole,” you mumbled, staring at his back as he walked away. “I’m breaking up with him. For good this time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Topper’s tone was dripping with sarcasm, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah, we both know how much you’ll hate having me all to yourself again.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before you turned towards him, reaching to slip your hand down his pants the moment Rafe was inside of his house. Wrapping your fingers around Topper’s cock, you slowly stroked him, uncaring as to how risky that was. You were just angrier than you ever were at the realization that Rafe didn’t appreciate how gracious you’d been, and how many other girls would’ve dumped him months ago for everything he’d pulled. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if Rafe respected you less for it.

That realization didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would…because you’d long stopped respecting him in return.

You moved to settle in Topper’s lap, facing away from him as he lifted his hips enough to only just pull his pants down. One hand was pulling at your panties, yanking them aside just in time for you to sink down onto his cock. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he filled you up, throbbing inside of your heat. It was almost too easy, courtesy of his fingers and how wet he’d made you.

You lifted yourself slightly, moving over him and hanging onto the headrest of the driver’s seat while Topper lifted his hips too. His grunts and labored pants were a little loud, but that was only because you were alone. Rafe nor Kelce was going to hear anything from all the way out here in a closed vehicle. You clung to the seat harder as you thought about Rafe’s haughty tone and that challenging look in his blue eyes, so certain that you’d never do to him what he did to you.

So certain that you’d never have the guts.

Speaking of, it felt like you could feel Topper deep in your stomach as you rode him. His hands were tight on your waist as he bounced you on top of him, cheeks grazing his thighs with every movement. One of those hands slid around you, reaching under your dress and resting on you, fingers rubbing over your cunt.

“You’re doing so good, babe,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet truck. “Just like that.”

You knew that this couldn’t take long—and Topper knew it too—and feeling you come around him always sent him over the edge, so your eyes rolled when he started circling and dragging his fingers across your clit. He lightly pinched it, making you jerk, and the fact that you were fucking him in Rafe’s own backseat had you coming hard.

The broken moans that tumbled out of your mouth should have embarrassed you, but you were too concerned with sliding yourself up and down his cock, squeezing him tight and making him come too. Topper wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you back against him as you came together. Knowing that you’d stayed out here long enough, he was gently pushing you off of him the second he started to soften.

You could feel him dripping out of you, and you hurried to put your underwear back in place.

“Did you talk some sense into her?” was the first thing Rafe greeted you with the moment you both made it back inside.

You ignored him, hearing the tone of Topper’s voice as he said Rafe’s name. You knew that it would just be another useless talk of him almost begging Rafe to do better. The older blond never listened to his friend though, and you knew it didn’t twist Topper up too much, always happy to make you feel better when your boyfriend fucked up.

He took advantage of it every time.

Like now, for example.

Your hands clung to the railing of the back porch, head bowed as Topper drove into you from behind. Rafe was asleep in his own room—Kelce asleep in a guest room—and you couldn’t help yourself. You needed him again, sneaking into his designated guest room and begging him to fuck you. He was never one to protest, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you against him while murmuring something along the lines of ‘not in here’.

There were too many people in the Cameron household for him to touch you on the same floor as everyone else.

You kept pushing yourself to your tippy toes, thighs squeezing together with every slow stroke of his cock. Rafe’s t-shirt was pushed up your back, and the light slap of skin against skin reached your ears as well as the wet sound every time he slid between your folds. When he leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, one arm curled around your waist.

“You love this,” he murmured, nipping at your ear. “You love fucking me right under his nose…especially when he really pisses you off.”

If you’d tried to deny it, the way you tightened around him would’ve exposed the truth anyway. You did. Rafe underestimated you, and you loved proving him wrong, especially with his best friend of all people. You moaned, pushing back against him at that. Topper only chuckled, twisting a hand at your roots and pushing you back down over the railing again.

After coming around him twice, the insides of your thighs were embarrassingly sticky, and when Topper eventually stilled against you, pumping you full of his cum, that only made your predicament worse. When he pulled out of you, you reached down to wipe away some of the mess, fighting to catch your breath and reminding yourself that you’d have to make a stop to the bathroom before rejoining Rafe.

Topper was silent the entire ride home, and unlike with Rafe, you had no one but yourself to blame in this situation. Whenever you happened to glance over, you’d catch sight of his clenched jaw, cold blue eyes—so much like Rafe’s—focused on the road. His knuckles were white from the strain of his skin pulled taut over them, a death grip on the wheel of his jeep.

You didn’t speak because there wasn’t much you could say.

So fed up with Rafe’s blatant disrespect—and the pitying looks the odd girl threw you at the party as he danced with some stranger—you hadn’t thought of who else you’d be hurting when you grabbed the nearest guy and pressed your lips to his. You were so far gone with the alcohol, and the satisfaction you’d felt only drove you to close your eyes at the feel of his lips moving against yours.

It had also caused you to momentarily forget about your boyfriend, a misstep that was quickly remedied when you found yourself covered in alcohol.

Several of his friends—Kelce included—had been struggling to hold Rafe back as he tried to make his way to you. His angry shouts could be heard over the music, and you suspected that the bloodthirsty glint in his blue eyes was what drove your poor unsuspecting victim to slip away. Watching him get further out of reach only drove Rafe crazy…until his angry gaze landed on you, as if just remembering your presence.

He was screaming at you, calling you every name in the book, and you’d taken a step back as his friends struggled to keep him from getting to you. Only one stood off to the side, and when you remembered Topper’s presence, you hadn’t been able to keep the sheepish look off of your face. Adopting the older brother role, he’d quickly stomped towards you, yanking your arm as he pulled you along and away from your enraged boyfriend.

“I think its time you call it a night,” he’d evenly said.

That was the last thing he’d said to you, holding you as you stumbled to his car.

When his phone rang again, cutting through the silence in the vehicle, he finally answered it.

“Rafe, she’s drunk,” Topper told him the minute he picked it up. “…and you can’t act like you didn’t have this coming a little.”

You shifted in your seat, thinking to yourself that you’d gotten back at Rafe many times over. You didn’t hear what your boyfriend—possibly ex-boyfriend—said on the other line, but it was loud, and you could pick up on his tone. Topper chuckled to himself, and if you hadn’t been looking at his face, you might’ve thought it was genuine. His frustration with both Rafe and you—mostly you at the moment—was all over his face.

“There’s a whole list of shit you’ve done while drunk or high. You can talk to her tomorrow,” he told his best friend, meeting your gaze. “I’m handling it, so if you come over, I’m telling you now I’m not answering the door.”

You looked out the window at that, swallowing at the venom in both his voice and his gaze.

Your parents weren’t home, out of town for the weekend, and you were never more grateful, certain you’d never been this drunk in your life. Topper was still ignoring you as he helped you inside, and when you stumbled away from him, leaning against the table by the entrance, you gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

Before you could do it, he was dropping to his knees, angrily taking off your shoes. You flinched at the way he threw them across the room, slowly rising and staring you down. The house was quiet—too quiet for comfort—and you licked your lips.

“Topper-.”

“It’s already bad enough seeing you kiss him and be with him and fuck him,” he spat at you, pointing outside. “Even worse when he treats you like shit, and you just won’t leave.”

You frowned at him, tears kissing your eyes.

“I’m…sorry for just hoping he’ll do better…”

“He won’t!”

Topper’s voice bounced off of the walls, and you shrunk away from him as he got in your face.

“How many times does he have to show you that? Why do you still expect better from him, so much so to the point where you’re kissing random guys, now?” he wondered, rearing back away from you with a frown. “Yeah, you wanted to make Rafe angry, but we both know the truth.”

You looked away, pressing your lips together when Topper stepped closer. You could feel his breath on your cheek as he exhaled through his nose, the atmosphere tense.

“Rafe’s mad because you dared to play his own game,” he slowly whispered. “I love you, and we both know it’s me you’re really with, not him, and I’m fucking pissed.”

You swallowed with one look into his eyes, finally finding the strength to face him, and your heart skipped a beat at what you saw there.

Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours, fingers digging into your arms. The sequence of events happened too fast for your drunk brain to catch up with, only gasping when he reached down to press his hand into the small of your back, yanking you closer. If it wasn’t for him holding you, you would’ve tripped over your own feet as he forced you into the living room.

Topper’s teeth nipped at your throat while he pulled at your dress, something Rafe had bought.

“I fucking hate this dress,” he quietly confessed as if reading your mind.

The sound of tearing fabric reached your ears as he forced you to bend back, his arm around you keeping you from collapsing. He kept you against him as he laid you down on the floor, in a hurry to get you at least half naked. His other hand reached behind his head to yank off his shirt, and you only had the sense to hold onto his arms while he kissed along your chest. When his pants were pushed down just enough, he pushed into you with a grunt.

You scratched at his skin at the rough entry, but it took no time for each thrust to become as smooth as they always were whenever he got his hands on you. One of your hands clawed at the rug, and you moaned—loud—when he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. You suspected that Top had done a line or two tonight, gasping at his uncharacteristically tight grip.

He was fucking you so good that you almost missed the sound of a vehicle in the yard. When you did, your eyes flew open, and you attempted to look around towards the window. You guys were too close to the couch to see over it, and when you whined, pushing against him, Topper only grabbed your hands and pinned them down beside your head.

“Topper, I think…”

You couldn’t get it out, groaning as he curved his hips against yours.

“Fuck him,” he breathed, pounding into you.

The harsh knocks on the door didn’t faze him, and Topper only let one of your hands go to reach down and reach under your thigh. He rested that leg over his shoulder, pushing it towards you as his nose brushed yours, lips parted as he thrust into you. You were dripping around him, teeth sinking into your lip as Rafe knocked on the door again, trying the locked handle. Somewhere, you could hear your phone vibrating…and then Topper’s after a while.

The man on top of you didn’t care, stretching you out, pushing his cock into your tight hole.

“Break up with him, or don’t,” he whispered to you, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your nose. “…but what you pulled tonight is not happening again.”

You drunkenly nodded at him, mewling as he slowed down his thrusts, the sucking sound of his cock plunging into you reaching your ears. You heard your phone vibrate again.

“You know where to find me when he pisses you off.”

me: I'm going to write a fic to my own entertainment

also me, writing said fic:

This was something I didn’t know I needed 😩😫😩😫

Ocean Eyes

Austin North x Reader x Drew Starkey

Summary: Your boyfriend and his best friend have a lot in common. For one thing, they both like watching the other fuck you.

warnings: unprotected sex, voyeurism, threesome, mentions of cockwarming, p*rn with a plot

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

⭑

When your boyfriend’s best friend said he wanted to watch one night, you were a little too tipsy to take him seriously, let alone consider the awkward aftermath of such a request. Everyone was drinking and saying things they didn’t really mean or give a second thought to, so naturally you figured the other man was no exception. You let out a light laugh as his words reached your ears beyond the low music, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend from behind.

“You’ll have to ask Austin.”

Your tone was light, words slurring just a tad as you said it before resting your cheek against his back. You could feel the vibration as he laughed, hand reaching up to rest over yours on his stomach. When he threaded his fingers through yours, you lifted your gaze, catching his eye as he glanced over his shoulder. There was a small smirk on his pink lips before he glanced over to the third party in this conversation.

“Yeah, sure,” he lightly said. “Why not…”

It was his shrug and the shared chuckle between the two that led you to believe it was all jokes.

However, an hour and a half later, when Austin was leading you upstairs by the hand—and Drew was only a step behind—you started to think that the conversation wasn’t as lighthearted as you’d led yourself to believe. You gave the other man a weird look over your shoulder, convinced he was just taking a joke too far, but when his blue eyes met yours, there was an excited glint there that gave you pause.

“Wait, you guys are serious?” you finally wondered to your boyfriend, blinking at him with parted lips when Drew followed you both into the room.

Austin’s hands were on your waist as he pulled you against him, chest flush with yours, and you didn’t know if you should blame it on the alcohol, but you couldn’t ignore the excited flip in your stomach when you heard the lock click behind you. The faint sound of music bled through the walls, reminding you of the party still going on downstairs.

“It’s Drew,” was his simple response, shrugging at you like the other man was practically nothing. “Just pretend like he’s not even there.”

Those last words were a whisper as he leaned in, lips grazing yours almost unsurely, as if testing the waters and giving you time to back out. Drew, your boyfriend’s best friend—and your friend—was very quiet, making it easy to do just as Austin suggested. You were deep in thought as you looked between his eyes, thinking about how much you really wanted to have sex with your boyfriend.

There had never been a time when you wanted to have sex with him, and you didn’t have sex with him. You were starting to understand less and less why tonight needed to be a first just because Drew was sitting in the corner. You knew that if you looked over at him, you’d lose your nerve, and you didn’t want to. Reaching up, you covered Austin’s hands with your own, humming to yourself.

“Okay,” you whispered in a small voice, just loud enough for him. “He’s not even there.”

You kept that in mind as Austin kissed you, allowing your eyes to close and kissing him back. The alcohol in your system definitely helped with the nerves that were threatening to take over, and you had to remind yourself that Drew only wanted to watch. It wasn’t like anyone was suggesting more than that, and the thought of that was so nerve-wracking that your current reality seemed like nothing in comparison.

It wasn’t long before you were kissing your boyfriend and touching him the same way you did when you two were alone. In fact, when he was propped up on the bed and your knees were on either side of his waist, you’d forgotten about Drew entirely. You were only concerned with being as close to Austin as possible, one hand traveling down his torso before stopping at the waist of his pants.

He huffed when you did, and you giggled at his frustration.

You could feel how hard he was, and the only thing that prevented you from prolonging the inevitable was how badly you wanted him inside of you. When one of his hands grabbed yours, you didn’t stop him, smiling into the kiss as your hand was guided past the fabric. Sliding past another layer of fabric, your fingers grazed the length of him, wrapping your hand around him and feeling satisfied at the shudder you felt.

With one arm curving around your waist, Austin lied back completely before rolling you both over. He was moving to gently push at the bottom of your skirt while you stroked him, hand sliding and gently twisting around his cock. Soft lips met the expanse of your neck, and you threw your head back to give him more room, a soft moan escaping your lips.

You were still stroking him when his fingers grazed over you, a thin layer of fabric preventing skin to skin contact that was quickly removed. The cool air against your wet pussy lips forced a shiver down your spine, but another quickly followed for a whole other reason, and your chest arched up against your boyfriend’s.

One long finger stroking your walls felt like a tease, and when he added a second, your toes curled. Whatever moan was threatening to climb out of your throat was swallowed by his lips, mouth covering yours in a hungry kiss. The feel of his fingers inside of you almost made it hard to concentrate on caressing his cock, fist tightening ever so slightly around him and pulling a groan from his mouth.

His other hand was just dipping underneath your shirt before he pulled away completely.

“Get this off,” he murmured, helping you pull the thin fabric over your head.

He wasted no time in reaching for your bra, easily unhooking it, the pink thing thrown haphazardly on the floor somewhere just as he leaned down. When his lips covered one of your breasts, a hardened bud against his tongue, you reached up to thread your fingers through his blond locks. Your gaze was on the ceiling even though your lashes kept fluttering, eyes open half the time.

You were intently focused on getting naked, happily lifting your hips when he reached down to pull at your skirt. Determined to be on even ground, you tugged at his shirt, and you smiled up at him when he sat up to give you what you want. However, when Austin reached behind his head to yank it off, your eyes caught sight of someone you’d wholly forgotten about.

Drew’s gaze was intensely focused on the sight before him.

The reminder of his presence had actually given you pause, a brief feeling of self-consciousness filling you. You figured it was noticeable, because your attention was pulled away from the other man, Austin’s hand resting on your cheek as he softly pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was tender, meant to be reassuring, and it did its job.

“He’s not even here,” your boyfriend whispered against your lips. “It’s just you and me.”

You nodded, repeating those words to yourself, teeth pressing into your lip when you helped him get his pants off. From the corner of your eye, you were reminded of Drew’s presence again, but you forced yourself to keep your gaze on Austin’s cock, reaching for it as you sat up. Not wanting to see Drew at all—knowing you’d probably lose all your nerve if you so much as made eye contact with him—you leaned over and wrapped your lips around the length of your boyfriend.

Cheeks hollowed and hand around the base of him, you bobbed your head and slid your lips over what you could reach. You didn’t ease into it, satisfied at the sound of Austin’s sharp intake of breath, and you only grew more comfortable at the feel of his fingers massaging over your scalp. It was a soothing feeling that contrasted against the heat between your legs, making your eyes roll.

You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching between them, touching yourself. You brushed your fingers over your clit before sliding them between your folds with ease, moaning at the feel, the vibrations traveling to his cock. The sounds of your mouth were loud in the room, saliva coating his length and making the glide of your tongue along his shaft seamless.

Again, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol or simply getting caught up in being with your boyfriend, but you’d once again forgotten about Drew on the other side of the room. When Austin pulled you off of him, hands on your cheeks as he pressed his mouth to yours, you could only moan into the kiss as he pushed you back.

With your back flat against the bed, you parted your legs with ease. A hand was on each ankle as your boyfriend bent them, making himself comfortable between your thighs before pushing his hips forward. The tip of him grazed you, making you suck in a breath between your teeth, and when he just barely slid past your lips, you exhaled. When he continued moving closer, you threw your head back, lips parted, and you didn’t even realize his name fell from your lips once he’d completely sheathed himself inside of you.

No time was wasted, Austin’s thrusts already picking up a steady rhythm. His knees were pressed into the bed as he towered over your frame, and your own knees were slowly pushed towards your chest. You were hyperaware of the length of his cock at this angle, thighs pressed together with the soles of your feet on his stomach. Every pull pulled a shudder from you, and you groaned his name again.

Every thrust made you wetter, Austin pulling out until only the tip remained before thrusting back inside of you to the hilt with ease. Your lashes kept fluttering, and you got lost in the feel of him fucking you. You were half focused as you trailed your hands up towards your chest, touching yourself and pressing your head into the pillow. You heard your boyfriend curse, and you turned your head to the side, barely peeling your eyes open.

You briefly tightened around Austin.

Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and you couldn’t stop the way your stomach flipped at the reminder that you were being watched. Drew wasn’t even touching himself, just sitting on the loveseat in the corner of the room, unwavering gaze focused on you. It did something to you that you didn’t know how to explain, fluttering around your boyfriend’s cock again.

His best friend’s hands were occupied, one wrapped around a beer and the other just resting on his leg when you lowered your eyes. You watched the way his fingers occasionally twitched—as if he desperately wanted to do something with them. Such a thought just made you wetter, and to your dismay, it was noticeable. A soft laugh reached your ears, and when you turned your head forward, Austin was grinning at you.

It was mischievous and haughty and proud all in one—you’d been caught.

You liked that Drew was watching you, his blue gaze focused on the way your boyfriend fucked you into the mattress. You never thought you would like to be watched, something you’d never entertained thoughts of before, but there was a brief wonder if it had nothing to do with being watched…but being watched by Drew.

When Austin lowered your feet and parted your thighs, you gasped. You were so pleased at the feel of him completely lowering himself against you that you didn’t care how he chose to maneuver you both along the bed. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, leaving kisses along the skin, and your legs were completely spread to accommodate him as his knees found comfort underneath your thighs.

Your hands ran along his back, nails grazing his skin and occasionally pressing into it. When his lips trailed over your jaw before covering yours, you moaned into the kiss. All the while his thrusts didn’t stop, the force of them jostling the bed, and when you could feel yourself dripping around him that’s when your position registered in your brain.

Drew had the perfect view of Austin’s cock sinking into you, stretching you out and sliding between your folds.

The realization turned you on so much that you could feel that familiar tightening deep within your gut. Your nails scratched along your boyfriend’s back, a choked gasp leaving your lips. You attempted to lift your hips, meeting his thrusts and feeling almost…feral. Your moans and whimpers filled the room, hands sliding over his arms when Austin pushed himself up to hover over you. Your legs fell around him as he repeatedly hit something inside of you that made your breath hitch.

Your boyfriend leaned down to kiss you again, and when he pulled away, your eyes lowered.

Underneath his arm, you could see Drew, your gazes connecting. The sight of him staring at you made you clench down on Austin’s cock again, and it was hard to swallow down your moans. You felt hot and tingly all over—as you always did—but it was so much more in this moment. You couldn’t stop staring at Drew, and when he lifted his arm, bringing the neck of the bottle to his lips, something about the way his eyes glinted in that moment sent you over the edge.

You wrapped your legs around your boyfriend as you came, unable to hold back the sharp gasps that left you. You clung to him, squeezing your eyes shut and trembling at the knowledge that Drew was watching you come. Your own orgasm triggered Austin’s, the blond finishing inside of you, and his thrusts grew slow, lazily pushing into you as you milked his cock.

There was a loud roaring in your ears, and you knew that Austin said something, but you didn’t hear what it was. Stars floated in your vision, and you had the brief thought that you’d never come that hard in your life. You were still catching your breath when your boyfriend pulled out of you, and your hearing only just returned as you watched Drew come back into the room.

You hadn’t even noticed him leave.

You looked between them as he handed your boyfriend a small towel, and you realized that Austin had been speaking to him, not you. When he kissed down your frame, small towel in hand to clean up the mess between your legs, your gaze traveled to the other man standing by the bed. Any hint of self-consciousness you’d felt before was now gone, and all that remained was a dull heat, unable to make sense of your thoughts as you forced yourself to break eye contact.

You’d thought that things would be awkward. After all, it wasn’t every day that your mutual friend wants to see you and your boyfriend have sex, and it wasn’t every day that you two follow through on the suggestion. Everyone had been drinking and feeling bolder than usual, so you figured at best, things would be awkwardly written off as uncharacteristically drunken antics, and at worst, you wouldn’t be able to look your friend in the eye ever again.

You had never considered a third option.

You were sitting in Austin’s lap—not unusual—and despite the fact that your eyes were on the screen, you weren’t actually focused on any part of the movie. Carlacia and Madelyn were mostly talking through it anyway despite how hushed the conversation was. No, something else was going on that had all of your attention.

Your boyfriend’s fingers were dancing along your waist. It was a normal thing for him to do whenever you were near. It was even normal for them to barely dip into the waistline of your jeans occasionally, fingertips gently grazing the skin there. His other hand was on your arm, and his chin rested on your shoulder, and he’d periodically turn his head to kiss the skin just under your ear.

None of these things were abnormal.

Drew observing all of these things was abnormal.

The dirty blond was seated on the couch across from you, and despite your fixated gaze on the TV, his own stare was obvious out of the corner of your eye. It was odd, it was new, and under any other circumstances, you might’ve jokingly said something—a snarky or teasing comment always ready at the back of your mind. However, there was one simple fact that made you bite your tongue.

Austin knew that Drew was staring.

You didn’t know how you knew that, but the fact of the matter was that you did.

Maybe it was in the way Austin chose to sit down directly across from his best friend, pulling you into his lap. Maybe it was the silence between them and lack of interaction with everyone else, used to the odd comment or discussion about whatever was happening on screen. Or maybe it was the way Austin would sometimes stare straight ahead at Drew, not even pretending to pay attention to the movie even if only for a few seconds.

Drew was watching you…your boyfriend knew…and he was feeding into it.

Why?

The most obvious answer seemed the craziest to you. After all, it was one drunken night that you chose not to read too much into. Apparently, you were the only one to hold that sentiment, quickly looking away when you glanced over, eyes meeting a familiar blue pair. You fought to ignore the way your face heated up, telling yourself you only felt weird because Austin and his best friend refused to act normally about this.

You didn’t want to acknowledge how you still thought about Drew’s stare as he watched Austin slide his cock into you. You tried not to linger on how much it had turned you on to hold his gaze while your boyfriend fucked you, fingers twitching and possibly yearning for something to touch. You kept telling yourself that things could go back to normal if it weren’t for the two blondes playing whatever game they decided they liked.

It wasn’t just you sitting in Austin’s lap during a movie. It was the other week when he’d kissed the back of your neck, just barely bending you against the counter in the kitchen. Drew had been on the other side. It was last Tuesday when your boyfriend twirled you in the new dress he bought you, asking Drew what he thought—something he’d never done before. It was yesterday when you bought a milkshake, Austin suggesting that you let Drew have a taste too despite the fact that there was only one straw.

No one was more relieved than you when the movie ended, and your friends started to leave your boyfriend’s place one by one. You looked forward to being able to finally relax, and you tried to ignore the way Drew lingered, seeing the rest of your friends off alongside you. You convinced yourself that he would be leaving right after he used the restroom, but the way Austin pulled you into his lap the moment he disappeared had you second guessing yourself.

“Drew’s still here,” you whispered to him when his lips met yours.

When he barely pulled away, his blue eyes searched yours. Your boyfriend’s arms were circled around your waist, and there was an expression on his face that you couldn’t quite name. Despite that, your heart still skipped a beat in your chest at the sight of it, and for some reason, a warm sensation settled between your legs when Austin pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Is that okay…?” he softly wondered, something else unspoken in that question.

There was no alcohol in your system today, so whatever answer you gave to the silent question in his eyes when he pulled away would be all you. There wouldn’t be anything you could blame it on, and you swallowed at the thought of what happened that night no longer being confined to a drunken and impulsive choice at a party. Your heartbeat felt so heavy and loud, but the twisting sensation deep in your gut overpowered that.

It was a reluctant admission, but you liked having Drew watch, breath shaky at the mere memory of his eyes on you while Austin was inside of you. It brought on a kind of arousal you didn’t think was possible for you, and you knew that your eyes told an answer before your lips did by the way the corner of Austin’s mouth curved upwards just so slightly.

“Yes,” you barely breathed. “That’s okay.”

You closed your eyes when he kissed you again, his hands sliding to the small of your back. The TV was off, and the only light that bled into the living room came from the kitchen. You felt more nervous than last time, and you almost wished that you did have a shot of something in your system. When Austin got your jeans off, your panties going with them, you were embarrassed by how wet you already were.

When your boyfriend’s fingers touched you, the soft laugh that reached your ears was more sly than humorous.

You didn’t need to admit to him that you were turned on by Drew watching him fuck you—it was obvious. Not only was it evident in the way you were already dripping at the thought, but also in the way you pulled at your boyfriend and his clothes, needing him naked and on top of you in any way.

Your knees were pressed into the couch, hands digging into the arm of the couch, when you glanced up. Austin was behind you, a hand on your hip while his other stroked himself. Your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your chest, even more so at the sight of a familiar figure standing at the entrance to the living room.

The light of the kitchen behind him created a shadowy outline of your friend, but you could still make out his features. His blue eyes sparkled in the limited lighting, and you didn’t miss the way his tongue darted out to touch his lip. Austin’s fingers danced up your spine before he slid his cock into you in one smooth thrust.

The swift intrusion made you gasp, and you dug your nails into the fabric of the couch. Your boyfriend’s cock was soaked in your essence in no time, each thrust smoother than the last as you only grew wetter at the sight of Drew watching you. With no TV or music on, the rest of the house was quiet.

The only thing that could be heard was Austin’s soft grunts, the gasps and whimpers you tried to bite back, and the lewd wet sounds of your boyfriend’s cock plunging into your cunt. You almost felt ashamed of how wet you were, but you couldn’t find it in you to. You eagerly pushed back against Austin’s movements, meeting his thrusts.

You lowered your head for just a moment, unable to hold it up. The sound of skin slapping against skin soon reached your ears as his thrusts became rougher. You closed your eyes, focusing on the feel of your boyfriend’s cock easily sliding along your walls, stroking that fire inside of you and making your toes curl. Austin bent over you, and you shuddered when his lips grazed your ear.

“Can he touch you?”

The question was evenly whispered into your ear, the nature of it startling you, making you lift your head.

Your lips parted at the sight of Drew standing so close, now. You hadn’t even heard him move, and Austin’s lips were still at your ear as you stared at his best friend, your lashes fluttering at the feel of the long and slow movements he’d now adopted. A drawn-out moan crawled from your throat when your boyfriend completely pulled out before slowly dipping his cock back into you.

Your arms gave an answer before your lips could.

You reached out towards the blond before you with one hand, the other twisting into the fabric of his shirt. His hand was tight on yours, steadying you as the force of Austin’s thrusts jostled you. You were surprised to feel Drew’s free hand on your face, thumb brushing along your lips and pulling at them. It wasn’t hard to imagine what he was thinking about when he slipped his thumb past them, and without even thinking about it, you wrapped your lips around the appendage.

At the glint that passed through his gaze, you sucked on it.

You were so close, and you knew your boyfriend could tell. He could always tell, and you only moaned his name when his hand rested on your throat, pulling you back against his chest as he sat up. The hand that was intwined with Drew’s guided it to your chest, and your eyes rolled at the feel of him taking your nipple between his fingers.

“I’m…” you gasped, words dying in the air as your breath hitched.

Austin’s thrusts were growing sloppy, uneven, and you could feel your own body starting to tighten.

“Fuck, look at you.”

Drew’s voice had you mentally tumbling, clenching down on Austin just after he started to spill inside of you. You frantically grabbed both of Drew’s hands as you did, tightly squeezing them as you came around your boyfriend—hard. Drew didn’t let go, keeping hold of your hands as he watched you push back against Austin, still fucking yourself onto his softening cock.

There was a dull buzzing beneath your skin all over, and you were very aware of Austin’s fingers harshly pressing into the skin of your waist and Drew’s hands against your clammy ones. Every lazy push onto your boyfriend made you shudder some more, remnants of your orgasm still passing through you, and if he minded the overstimulation, he didn’t protest. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin.

When the other blond pulled out of you, you collapsed in Drew’s arms, fighting to catch your breath. When your boyfriend said something about running you a bath, you only gave a hum and a lazy nod, eyes drooping as you rested your cheek against Drew’s torso. You didn’t want to let go of his hands, and you desperately tried not to read into that.

If anyone noticed the way Drew’s fingers would graze your waist when he walked by, they didn’t speak on it. You hoped that no one would think anything of him resting his hands on your shoulders sometimes or the way he was always the last one to leave Austin’s place whenever he had people over. You liked to think that you and Austin being the last to leave his place maybe evened it out.

You were addicted to the overwhelming feel of your boyfriend’s cock inside of you and his best friend’s eyes on you.

The first time had been an impulsive alcohol fueled decision. The second time had been a sober level-headed one by all accounts, a reluctant silent admission of what you wanted. The third and fourth and fifth time was pure indulgence of unrestrained desires, gaze meeting a familiar blue pair every time as you put on a show for him.

Sometimes he’d stand near, pinning your hands down while Austin fucked you or fisting his hands into your hair while you moved your mouth over your boyfriend’s cock. Each time, Drew got a little more bolder and participated a little more, never kissing you…never fucking you…but leaving you wishing that he had.

You thought of the times you came around Austin while staring at Drew. One leg on the counter chair while Drew watched from the living room. Holding his gaze as he stood behind the couch, watching you push yourself down onto Austin’s cock over and over again. Head hanging off the bed as you stared into his eyes upside down, your boyfriend curving his hips into yours.

You knew it was only a matter of time.

…and sometimes you wanted it, usually in the heat of the moment when you could only think about being held down and fucked into the bed. However, once the moment passed, you sometimes found yourself wondering if that was a good idea. The situation you found yourself in was already messy, and actually having sex with the other blond man would just make things messier.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Already he touched you and navigated around you like he was your second boyfriend instead of whatever he actually was. It wasn’t something that was ever discussed—at least to your knowledge—and Austin didn’t seem to mind whenever his best friend would touch you and stroke you and cup your chest. That was fun in the name of the heat of the moment though, and it was fun that never progressed into anything more.

It never occurred to you that Drew and Austin were on the same page.

…and only waiting for you to catch up.

The moment Chase left the house, Austin guided you to your feet, his cock slipping out of you with a soft ‘pop’. Keeping your boyfriend nice and warm inside of you had tested you more than you thought it would. Especially around your friends who were none the wiser—all except one. Drew’s heated gaze told you that he knew what was going on even if Austin never did, and every brush of your thighs as you walked to his room only made your arousal worse.

You could only focus on chasing your high when you finally sank yourself down onto Austin’s cock. It was still wet from your juices, enveloping him with ease as you dripped down your thighs. You both let out the same soft sigh, your boyfriend’s hands immediately finding a home on your waist. For the first time in a month, you forgot all about the other person in the room.

Your hands were flat against Austin’s chest, steadying yourself to slide up and down his cock. You kept pulling yourself up until only the tip remained before completely covering him again, lashes fluttering. When you leaned over to kiss him, he grinned into it, arms snaking around your waist before bending his knees, pushing himself up into you.

The shock of it made you gasp, nails pressing into his shoulder as he sat up. You circled your hips in his lap, your boyfriend’s lips grazing over your collarbone and teeth nipping at the skin of your chest. When his hand slid from your waist and up in between your breasts, you let your head fall back. The same hand slowly snaked around your throat as he pushed himself to his knees, and with your head almost touching the mattress, he jerked his hips into yours.

You moaned at the feeling, and when your eyes focused, you were reminded of Drew’s presence.

Even upside down, the intensity in his gaze was undeniable, and you could only think about both of their hands on you. Too many times you thought about Drew’s lips on yours or the feel of his weight pressing down on you or what his cock would feel like inside of you. As Austin thrust into you again, you let out a choked whine.

“Fuck me,” you moaned, hand reaching out to him.

You didn’t miss the smirk that danced along his lips as your words reached his ears. Austin pulled you upright then, pulling you into a kiss as he fell back. You were eager to start working your hips over him again, sliding yourself down onto him and clenching every time you lifted yourself. When you sat up straight, hands pressed to his stomach, your boyfriend was grinning up at you.

You didn’t quite understand why until a hand curled around your throat.

Your gasp was loud—from both shock and excitement—and when Drew pulled your head back, his lips covered yours. The kiss was hungry and head-spinning, his other hand covering a breast while Austin had a tight grip on your hips, lifting his own hips and still fucking you. Drew’s hand tightened just a tad on your throat, and you moaned into his mouth.

When both of his hands slid down, he pulled you off of your boyfriend.

Back flat against the bed, you looked up at him in wonder as he got undressed, Austin briefly sliding two fingers into you, curling them and making you excitedly jolt. When Drew made himself comfortable between your legs, he was stroking himself, and you watched with parted lips. It was only just hitting you that you were about to fuck someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, and when Drew dragged you closer, your stomach flipped.

When the head of his cock pressed against your opening, you excitedly rolled your hips. He chuckled at that, tightening his grip and holding you in place. As he slid into you inch by inch, cock brushing along your lips, you let out a silent moan, mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathed, resting against you and basking in the feel of you wrapped around him. “She’s choking me.”

His awe didn’t last for long, pulling back before swiftly thrusting back into you. The bed shook from his movements, and just when you were about to reach down and touch his hands, Drew grabbed one of your legs. He pushed it towards you, resting his hand on the bed there to keep it in place, your leg bending over his arm. The new angle had you gasping, his cock hitting something in you that wouldn’t allow you to catch your breath.

You could admit to yourself now that you’d wanted this since that first night. You hadn’t just been turned on by the sight of him watching you, but in the back of your mind, there was curiosity about what it’d feel like too. You recalled the twitch of his fingers, and how on some subconscious level, you’d known it was you he wanted to touch.

Your nails pressed into his shoulders, this new length and girth making you flutter around him. It was just like you imagined, feeling stretched out and so full in a different way than what you were used to, squirming beneath him to adjust. He snapped his hips against yours, gaze lowering every so often to focus on where he disappeared into you. You followed his lead, mesmerized by the glistening of his cock, the length covered in your essence and evidence of how badly you wanted him.

His free hand was pressed into your hip so firmly that you knew it would probably bruise.

You liked the thought for some reason, a shudder passing through you at the thought of walking around with a mark given by him. Every push of his cock into you resulted in you clenching down on him, as if trying to pull him back in and keep him there. You were thankful when he let your leg fall, letting you wrap your legs around him, hooking your ankles at the small of his back.

With your head just at the edge of the bed, you were unsurprised to see Austin approaching you, his hands resting on your cheeks as you tilted your head back. Opening your mouth for him, you let him dip his cock into it, sliding his length along your tongue. You could feel Drew nipping at you, teeth grazing your skin, and you shuddered at the onslaught of sensations. You only had a brief reprieve when he flipped you over, hands pressing into the bed just as he pulled you back onto him.

Your boyfriend’s hand found a home in your hair, pulling your face closer to him. His cock went in easier this time, gliding back and forth over your tongue. You sucked in your cheeks, sliding your mouth over the length of him, a moan escaping at an intentional thrust from Drew, and Austin groaned at the feel. When his hands tightened against your scalp, you relaxed your jaw.

You couldn’t deny the way you tightened around Drew as Austin fucked your face, hips gently surging forward as he used your mouth. When you looked up at him, your gaze met his, and your heart fluttered at the way he cupped your face. You noted that you could taste yourself on him, and you held his blue eyes with your own while Drew continued to plunge his cock into you, chasing both of your highs. The heavy breathing from both of them affected you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching down and touching yourself, the tips of your fingers lightly meeting Drew’s cock.

When Austin came onto your tongue, he stilled in your mouth, sighing above you before partially pulling out. He stroked himself onto your tongue, lightly tapping the tip of him against it, and only pulling away when he was satisfied. When you came around Drew, your head fell back down against the bed, stomach tightening as you shuddered beneath him.

He didn’t stop fucking you even when you collapsed, hips slapping against your backside until he finally came too, thrusts growing sloppy and slow as he finished inside of you. You were still trembling when he did, vision just a tad fuzzy, and when your boyfriend laid down beside you—still out of breath—you rested your head on his shoulder.

Drew took his time pulling out of you, and you felt so wet and satisfied and exhausted. You could feel him tracing patterns into the skin of your back after a while, and when your boyfriend started playing with your fingers, you only worried about who you were going to shower with.

Drew Starkey shirtless 🎀

The Roommate~Conrad Fisher

WARRING~ Cussing, P-In-V Sex, Unprotected Sex, Cheating

I’ve been seeing this very cute guy recently. He had a dorm room here like mine. However, his dorm room was in a different building, so I never went there. He also had a roommate, which is something I don't have.

We just had a very nice date, and we were going to go back to his dorm since we were always going to mine.

"My roommate might be at home, so just ignore him," I laughed when we approached the door.

"Trusky, it's okay." He looked in his pocket for his keys.

“Shit.” He started knocking on the door. "Con, I left my keys.” He yelled at the door, and I laughed at him.

The door opened to reveal the sexiest man I've ever seen. His eyes, his facial features, his smile, his lips. He laughed at Trusky.

"Trusky, if you're going to bring a girl home, you should really remember your keys." I laughed, making him turn to me. "You must be Y/n."

"Yes, I am." I smiled. He welcomed us inside and went back to his bedroom.

"My room is here." Trusky pointed at his room. I smiled and followed him.

I was supposed to stay the night with Trusky, but I couldn't get his roommate out of my head. So I decided to go home since Trusky had fallen asleep a while ago. I left his room only to be greeted by a tall, dark figure next to the door.

"Where are you going?" It was his roommate.

"Back to my dorm." I shrugged, and he laughed.

"So you're going to walk alone at midnight? Nope, I'm walking you back," he grabbed his keys and went to the door.

"Um, I didn’t catch your name." I ran out the door after him.

"I didn't throw it," he said, smiling and leaving the building, leaving me running after him again.

"Well, if I walk with you back to my dorm, don’t you think I should know your name?” I smiled.

"It's Conrad. Conrad Fisher.” He laughed

We just talked and got to know each other on our walk back to my dorm. I tried paying attention to what he was saying, but all I could think about was kissing him and feeling his arms wrap around my body.

I know I can't because I'm dating his roommate, but Trusky and I aren’t even that serious. There wouldn’t be anything wrong with kissing him. Right?

Arriving at my dorm is what pulled me out of my thoughts. "This is me." I smiled at Conrad, but he didn’t stop. He kept walking inside.

"You're not in your room yet, are you? So my job isn't over." I smiled, following him.

When we arrived at my room, I turned around to face him, only to see his face inches away from mine.

"Um, this is me," I stuttered, suddenly feeling his hands on my hips pulling our bodies closer together.

"Conrad, we can't." I put my hand on his chest, trying to push him away. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't do that to Trusky.

"Oh, but we can, and you know you want to." He leaned in, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear and whispering in it.

"You want to, don't you?" I nodded my head a little, looking away from him. He turned my head, so I looked him in the eye.

"So, what's stopping us, princess?"

The next thing I knew, my lips were slamming against his. I knew it was bad, but I had never felt like this before. Every part of my body was on fire, wanting more.

I dug into my purse, looking for my keys. Finding them, I turned around to open the door. Conrad placed his lips on my neck, biting and sucking, making me rush to unlock my door.

Once the door opened, Conrad pushed me in, slamming the door closed and shoving me against the door, kissing me.

"Jump,” he mumbled against my lips, trailing his hand down my body and taping the back of my thighs. I wrapped my legs around his waist as our lips moved in sync.

He moved us to bed, hovering over me. "Off,” I mumbled, trailing my hands under his shirt. Taking his shirt off, I throw it somewhere in the room, flipping us around and straddling him.

"God, you are so hot.” I mumbled, running my hands up and down his chest.

"I'm going to have to move. Trusky isn't going to be happy, but this is so worth it.” He laughed, raising my top over my head and leaving me with my bra and shorts on.

"There's always room in my bed." I winked. A smirk grew on his face as he flipped us around, reaching around my back to unclip my bra. I arched my back for easy access. He took off my bra and threw it somewhere on the floor as he stared at me in amazement.

"You're beautiful.” He mumbled before smashing his lips back onto mine, our teeth and lips clashing as his tongue swiped across my bottom lip, asking for entrance.

Denying him access, he harshly grinds down into my core, making me let out a loud moan, which he takes advantage of by shoving his tongue into my mouth, exploring and sucking on my tongue.

His hand trails down my body, giving a soft squeeze to my boob before moving down to the edge of my cotton shorts. I sigh in pleasure as he slips his hand into my lacy thong, his fingers playing with the bundle of nerves that make me lift my hips up for more contact.

"Please." I beg him, arching my back as his lips kiss down my throat.

"Please, what?" he mumbles against my skin, dragging his fingers up and down my slick, teasing me.

“Please, please touch me.” I beg, lifting my hips up, trying to gain something, anything.

I moan out as two of his thick fingers enter me, slowly but harshly thrusting into my center. "Fuck, you're so wet," he groans. He continues to finger me for a few moments to prepare me.

"You ready, baby?" He asks me, and I nod. Conrad kisses my lips again before pulling down my shorts and his own. His thick cock slapped his abdomen when released from the constrained boxers they were in.

I looked at it, wondering how it would fit. I wrapped my little hands around it and started pumping it. The top leaking with precum, leaving me drooling and soaked.

“Don’t worry, it'll fit." He reassures me. Seeing the look in my eyes. Watching intently as he lines himself up before sinking down into me, bottoming out. Every vein and inch of his dick stretched me out in the best way possible.

Throwing my head back at the feel of him inside of me. He thrusts deeply into me as I moan, loudly gripping the sheets and digging my nails into his back, feeling him nearly hitting my gut.

"fuck!" I cry out as he buries his face into my neck, fastening his pace. He's pounding harder into me. His hand grabs the back of my right thigh, pushing it to my chest to give himself a better angle to hit my sweet spot.

I bite into his shoulder, making him groan lowly as I feel his dick twitch inside of me. My hands are in a frenzy, clawing his back, pulling at his hair, or anything else to get him closer to me.

"You like that, baby," he moans as he continues to thrust his dick at my sweet spot, making the knot in my stomach tighten.

"Yes, holy fuck, you feel so good!" I nod quickly, nearly on the verge of sobbing, as tears well up in my eyes from how good he feels.

I turned my head to the side, moaning into the pillow, trying not to wake everyone in the building. He fastened his pace when he felt my walls tighten. He knew that I was getting close.

"Baby, I want to hear you. Let everyone know how good I'm making you feel." He turned my head back towards him as he thrust into my G-spot, making me scream with pleasure.

“Found it.” Conrad laughed over me, pounding and slamming harder into me as I dragged my nails down his back. "Are you close?" He asks.

"I can feel your walls squeezing my cock."

I moan out in response, unable to form words with the state of bliss I am in. I cling to his shoulders as my legs start to shake.

"Fuck, I'm going to come soon," Conrad groans, throwing his head back in pleasure. "Where do you want it?"

"I'm," I try to say, but my eyes keep rolling backwards. "I'm on the pill."

He looks down at me with lust in his eyes and asks, "Are you sure?"

"Fuck, Conrad! Yes, yes." I moaned

Picking up the pace of his thrusts, he raised one of my legs over his shoulder, making it easier for him to hit my G-spot. His hand reaches down to start rubbing figure eights on my clit to help me get closer.

"Come on, baby, cum on this dick, baby, I know you can do it. I'm right behind you.” He groaned.

"Fuck, Conrad, I'm coming!" I scream out.

"That's it, baby.” He groaned, leaving kisses all over my face as my toes curled and my thighs shook. My back arches to his chest as I feel my orgasm crashing down on me all at once.

Shortly after, he also let go of his load, falling down next to me and pulling me towards his chest.

We both crawl under my blanket, his arm instinctively wrapping around my waist to pull me closer. "So, what are you going to do about Trusky?" He asked.

"Well, I have my eye on someone else." I smiled, looking at him.

"Well, would it be okay for this guy to stay with you so that Trusky doesn't kill him?" He mumbles into my hair, kissing my bare shoulder.

"Of course he can."

— summary: you’ve wanted jj for as long as you can remember, but the two of you have always been stubborn when it came to your feelings for one another. a months long secret affair behind his girlfriend, kiara’s back, and getting caught by john b finally pushes jj to do what he should have done months ago.

— warnings: smut! 18+ cheating!!! oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, getting caught by john b, strong language. i think that’s it.

— note: y’all probably think i’m awful lmao. two cheating fics in one week? 🫣 anywhoooo, i don’t condone cheating by any means, but for the plot, it was necessary. not a very long one, but enjoy<3

likes, comments + reblogs are appreciated!!

❥ desire — j.m

“please jj, ‘m so close, it hurts, please… let me— shit! let me cum”

jj’s tongue continues its assault on your sensitive pussy, his tongue dragging up and down the length of your sopping core, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking at it softly before releasing it and penetrating your tight hole with his tongue.

your legs were shaking, fingers buried in his messy blond locks as he worked you toward your third orgasm.

jj lets your clit pop from his lips, lifting his head so his darkened over eyes could meet yours. “fuckin’ love how good you taste, wanna die between these legs”

he slips a finger inside of you, slowly thrusting it in and out, slightly curving it and hitting at your gspot. you let out a pathetic whine, head firmly pressed into the pillows as your third orgasm was threatening to burst. your stomach tightens, legs tense as jj continues the slow thrusts of his finger, his head dipping down and wrapping his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

you feel the band snap, your orgasm rushing through you and soaking jj’s face and fingers, shouts of his name and soft whines pulled from you.

“jj- s’too much! please… please no.. no more”

he lifts himself up onto his knees, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, “goddamn, got three out of ya this time, not bad mama”

you let out a sigh of relief, rolling your head to the side as you try and steady your breathing. jj’s voice startles you, the low and raspy tone in his voice making your core ache once more, “don’t think i’m done with ya now do ya princess? ‘m just gettin’ started”

you open your mouth to speak but only a high pitched squeal comes out, the swollen head of jj’s cock running through your soaking wet cunt making you squirm.

he sinks himself inside you, pulling a loud gasp from you. his hips begin pounding into yours, the squelching noises of your pussy and jj’s balls smacking against your ass bounce off the walls. you let out a loud moan and jj slaps a hand over your mouth, muffling your cries as he continues to pound himself inside of you.

you sink your teeth into his palm, making him hiss out a breath, “fuck!” he grunts out,

he lets his palm slide from your mouth, his hand snaking underneath your waist, gripping at your plump ass harshly as he fucks himself deeper into you.

you lift a leg and wrap it around jj’s waist, pulling him farther into you, his cock being pushed into so deep you could feel him in your stomach. you begin clenching around his dick, your inner walls squeezing him tightly as you near your release.

the sound of the front door squeaking open catches your attention, panic flooding your face, eyes wide as you stare up at jj, his face unfazed and focused on his quick and deep thrusts.

“j, someone’s-” you begin but jj cuts you off.

“i don’t give a fuck, focus on me”

you squeeze your eyes shut when the head of his dick hits at your gspot, making your pussy clamp down around him. your toes curl, back arching up off the bed when the door to the bedroom is pushed open, john b’s voice making your body go slack in jj’s hold.

“jj, what’re you- oh shit! sorry!” john b shouts, shielding his eyes and rushing from the room.

you place your palms on jj’s chest, his thrusts never slowing, even when his best friend walked in on the two of you, “jj! jj, stop! he just- he just caught us!”

jj’s hips don’t falter, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he focuses on his impending release.

“hey, hey, don’t worry about him. he won’t say shit, focus” jj demands. you obey, pushing john b to the back of your mind and focusing on the feel of jj’s cock sliding in and out of your sopping cunt.

jj’s hips begin to stutter, his dick pulsing inside of you as you clench around him uncontrollably. jj lets out a strained groan as his cum shoots inside of you, your body shaking as you come undone around his cock shortly after.

he slides his softening cock from you and pushes himself off the bed, finding his boxers and sliding them up his legs. you wrap the bedsheet over your chest, staring back at him. you’d been caught, what if john b tells kiara? you know what you’re doing is wrong, but you can’t seem to stop yourself. you want jj, but the two of you have always been stubborn when it came to your feelings for one another.

as if he was reading your mind, jj sits on the bed beside you, his large hand cupping your face as his ocean-blue eyes scanned your face. “hey, don’t worry. jb won’t say anything, besides… i’m- i’m gonna break things off with kie. she deserves better, and well.. you know i’m in love with you. it’s only fair we do this the right way”

you sigh, nodding your head as tears began to prick at your eyes. jj had never openly admitted he was in love with you, but you knew he was, so finally hearing the words out loud made your heart leap from your chest.

“i love you too, jj”

he smirks down at you, placing his hand on the back of your head and pressing his lips against your forehead. “i’ll be back, ‘m gonna go talk to jb, try and get some sleep. everything will be sorted by the time you wake up”

you smile to yourself, laying yourself in his bed and pulling the covers up to your nose. you close your eyes, listening to him exit the room, leaving you with thoughts of finally having a real relationship with the man you’d been in love with for years.

JJ TAGLIST: @rafeism @ivy-34 @thelomlisrafecameron @writingjjfics @always-reading @harrys-humble-housewife @maybankspov @immyowndefender @jjmaybankswifes-blog @wetbitchlibrary @xprloki @lizcameron @starkeypankowsbae @moremaybank @alexisbaumann2004 @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @thewitchesofart @unsaidjaelinrose @itsmytimetoodream @abbybarnesstuff @r1vrsefx @mel119g @rafetopia @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @fayerite @drewstarkeyslut @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @superlegend216 @digitaldiary111 @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @personalfavsthatarerandom @atorturedpoets @maybankslover @buckyisveryhot @cantstoptherecs @lyndys @ratatioulle @pradabambie @slut4ani @kamninaries @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust0

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hiii, could you write a Tim Bradford X Grey!reader? She is sergeant grey’s daughter but adopted, so everyone can imagine themselves as they want 💕!

and they have to sneak around because she is “off limits”, also maybe younger than him??

and one day, while they are at her house and they are doing it (idk if you write smut, if you don’t you don’t have to go into details ofc). Wade goes at her house because she was not answering her phone and finds them while she is literally on top of him ??

Not just any man

Tim Bradford x Grey!reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ mdni!, smut, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), language, fluff, secret relationship, reader is Grey's adoptive daughter

Word count: 1.722

Authors note: Hey love, thanks for the request! Yes, I do write smut. I hope this fits your expectations! I really appreciate the idea with the reader being adopted, so everyone can imagine the reader as they like!

Enjoy!

There was a lot you had Wade Grey to thank for.

Catching you with your boyfriend wasn't one of those things, though. Especially when your boyfriend was one of his officers and he was older than you.

You were in so much trouble.

It had all began when you met Tim at a charity event hosted at the police station (not the best place for an event like this, as your father later would always like to mention).

It had instantly clicked.

The thrill of doing this behind everyone's back was what excited you the most the first few months - that was, until Tim confessed his feelings to you.

You were deeply in love with each other, and no one would be able to separate you - not even your father, even when he decided to fire Tim, if he ever found out.

When you were a baby, barely a few months old, Wade had adopted you.

Your parents died a few days prior, losing everything, including their lives, when a drug deal went horribly wrong.

You didn't know much about them, but you didn't care. The Grey's were your family, not them.

Family didn't end in blood.

You were a little older than their biological daughter, but you were still your fathers little girl.

Which meant you were off limits - to everyone, including Tim. Not that it would have stopped you, though.

You had to sneak around of course, but someday your parents eventually had to find out - especially if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Tim.

It just wasn't supposed to be that day, especially not like this.

You and Tim had been busy that day, you both had a day off and had been cooking together, went shopping (yes, you did that together, when your parents weren't near), and watched movies.

All that time you didn't look at your phone, though - missing several calls from your father.

Now, you were very busy with Tim, as he placed kisses down your neck, making you shiver in delight.

Your naked body's pressed together, his fingers brushing over the curves of your breasts, wandering further down.

Your fingers touched him wherever they reached - his muscular chest, his back and his arms, brushing through his short hair as his fingers pleasured you.

His lips found yours, muffling a moan, as his fingers went in and out of your tight pussy, his palm brushing your clit in the process, sending shivers up your body.

You loved every second of it.

You loved the way he always took care of you, the way he took his sweet time.

The knot in your stomach tightened, as he quickened the pace of his fingers. Gasping his name your fingers dug into his shoulders, his lips ghosting over your neck, as his thumb drew figure eights on your clit.

With a few last strokes you came, moaning his name, pure bliss pulsing through you, blinding you momentarily. You rode out your high on his fingers, before he removed them, smirking down at you as you gasped for air.

He was breathtakingly beautiful. His eyes that shined like the stars at night, full of love. His face, his lips and his hair - he was perfect the way he was.

And he was all yours.

His lips found yours again and he stroked himself, before he aligned his dick with your entrance.

Slowly, he inched forward, stretching you out in just the right way, the initial pain quickly fading into a feeling that was so much better.

When he was fully settled, he started to move, not giving you much time to adjust.

A throaty moan passed your lips, as his hands gripped your hips to steady himself. You fell into a steady rhythm, the familiar knot in your belly already forming again.

"Fuck." he breathed, one of his hands finding your breast, pinching your nipple. Moaning loudly your legs wrapped around his middle, taking him even deeper.

He thrust into you vigorously, your moans mixing together. But you wanted a change in position.

Pushing him back you sat up, his brows furrowing in confusion. You pushed him onto his back, causing him to chuckle knowingly, as he realized what you were doing.

Smirking, you straddled him, not wasting any time to sink down on him again. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips, steadying you.

“Oh fuck…” His moan was like music to your ears, raw and unfiltered, as you started to move, up and down and up and down.

Skin slapped on skin, as he gripped your ass, helping you in your movement, when he suddenly stiffened, pulling you into his arms to cover you up.

"Tim wha-" you wanted to ask what happened, when you heard it.

"You better be kidding me!"

Flinching, your head snapped in the direction of your father's voice, body pressed against Tim, as your eyes widened.

"What the hell?" you yelled, your father's back turned towards you, one hand on his pistol.

"What the fuck?" Tim cut in. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"What the hell am I doing here?" your father bellowed, as you climbed off Tim, frantically searching for your clothes. "What the hell am I doing in my daughter's house? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

He shouted - never a good sign.

Tim searched for the right words, not sure how to explain, as you threw his shirt at him.

When you were both fully clothed your father had already left the bedroom, pacing in your living room.

Walking towards him you tried to come up with an explanation. It would have been useless to lie, so you decided to confront him with the truth.

"We're together." you spoke, swallowing. Fast and painless - just rip the bandaid off in one move.

Your gaze fixed on your father who so suddenly stopped, you thought time had paused for a second.

"You are what?" he yelled, anger clear as day on his face, a vein on his neck popping out. Tim stood somewhere behind you, not daring to say anything.

After all he was still his boss.

"We. Are. Together." you repeated word after word. "We are in a relationship. We love each other."

Your father's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets, as he stared at you, mouth agape.

How we're you to explain, if he suddenly had a heart attack?

"You of all people!" he spoke angrily, pointing at Tim and you stood in front of him, blocking his way as your father took a step closer. Giving him a pointed look, he fell silent.

"Dad, I'm not thirteen anymore!" you tried to reason, shaking your head at him. "Im twenty-six! You don't have to protect me from men - and you definitely don't have the right to tell me who I date and who I don't!"

Blinking rapidly he tried to process your words.

"But-" he started, irritation clear on his face. "Y/N, you're my daughter! I told them you're off limits!"

Furrowing your brows you looked at him in disbelieve. "You did what?" you almost shouted. "God, you're so embarrassing!" His eyes were wide. "I am embarrassing? Seeing my daughter naked with a man - that is embarrassing!"

Your cheeks flushed, not wanting to be reminded of that, as you looked away.

Sighing he tried to find the right words, only making unintelligible sounds, though. "I can decide on my own who I want to be with, dad." you explained, brushing away a lose strand of hair.

"But-" he tried again, brows furrowed in sadness, and your heart grew heavy. "You're my daughter, my little girl! I can't just hand you off to any random guy!"

"What?" Tim interrupted, stepping forward. Rolling his eyes your father shook his head, fully knowing he could trust Tim Bradford.

If anyone, it was him.

It grew quiet, as you bit your lip, nervousness washing over you in waves. Would he fire Tim? Destroy his entire career just because he loved his daughter?

He sighed heavily, wiping over his face with his hand.

"Look, you didn't answer your phone all day so I got worried - and then I find you with him!" he explained, briefly pointing at Tim, who grabbed your hand, not letting go even as your father's jaw clenched at the sight.

"I'm not ready to hand you off just yet."

Closing your eyes for a moment you took a deep breath. "Serge, I love your daughter and I want to be with her." Tim started, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

It would all be good.

"I'm not willing to give her up, just because you can't let go."

Your father's brows rose at the bluntness of his words, but he kept quiet, chewing on his cheek as he thought.

"What if you break her heart?" he wanted to know after a while, tilting his head. "Won't happen." Tim returned without a moment's hesitation.

You couldn't help but smile at his words. You loved him with all your heart and you knew he did the same.

Your father swallowed, nodding after a while, eyes glistening. "If you just so much as look at her in the wrong way, I will make the rest of your life a living hell." he swore Tim, huffing at his emotions taking over.

Letting go of Tim's hand you walked to your father, hugging him in relief. He returned the hug, his arms the same shelter as when you were just a small child.

"Thank you." you whispered, happy tears filling your eyes. "When he hurts you, just tell me and I'll get rid of him." he offered, letting go of you.

Judging by Tim's huff he heard his words, but you were sure he did it intentionally.

"I love you, dad." He smiled down at you, the emotions still clear on his distraught face. "I love you too, kiddo."

Rolling your eyes you hugged him again, before letting go and walking towards Tim.

Smiling up at him you took his hand back in yours. It would all be good. He returned the smile, still a little hesitant because of your father's presence.

Standing on your tip toes you kissed him, causing your father to immediately protest.

"No!"

sleepy n thinkin ab using rafe while he’s on game!!

he’s too focused to care that you’re just so needy for him, whining and crying because you want him so bad till it gets to the point where you’re splayed in front of him, panties gone n rubbing yourself on his bulge just to feel a little bit better!!

⛸️✧˖°❅🤍

sometning about his nonchalance only further riles you up. he dodges around your head when you straddle him— hot in the face and teary eyed. you’d become tired of being ignored, but that romantic sickness that swirled in your stomach betrays you, and you miss him despite his presence being so close physically. he’s right there, but he hasn’t so much as glanced at you in hours.

his bulge presents itself to you. it’s always there, thick and prominent in any pair of slacks he wears, even clear in the old pair of grey sweatpants he wears to bed. you wondered why rafe never would be caught dead in the casual garment, being such a popular clothing item to sport among guys his age — and aside from his attachment to old money and being a ‘grown man’, maybe he wouldn’t wear sweatpants out doors because he was afraid of showing too much. after all, you could practically see each vein in his cock through the material.

if ignoring you for a screen wasn’t enough, he wears a headset today too. he’s not even a gamer, he wouldn’t call himself one anyway — viewing it as a hobby to be juvenile and time wasting. however; he was a sucker for 2K, coarse thumbs dashing across joysticks as he swears into the mic, undoubtably bossing topper or kelce about, telling them to pull their weight. classic rafe.

your legs are split either side of him as you find solace in the warm skin of his neck, peeking from the blue t-shirt he wears. he doesn’t mind you, it’s nothing he’s not used to anyway — your clingy and grabby ways catching up with you after an evening of being pretty much ignored for his friends and virtual characters on a screen. you’ve soaked yourself, it’s embarrassing really — how much watching your boyfriend relax and blow off steam can rile you up. like previously mentioned, it’s the lack of acknowledgment too. at this point, you’d do anything to appoint the attention to yourself.

“careful, baby.” is all he offers, barely opening his mouth to say it as he concentrates on the screen. you respond with a pleased hum as you grind on his bulge and he adjusts his headset, sitting up a little straighter with paranoia that his friends might hear. despite this, he continues to play — and you continue to hump him.

it’s clear it feels good for him too, because whilst he outwardly ignores you— he leans back, licking his lips and bucking his hips ever so slightly to adjust his seating, eyes glued to the screen. he even continues to boss his friends around through his headset, but you’re refusing to ignore the way his voice comes out just that bit breathier and slower, playing a little worse on the screen.

he knows when to call it quits on the game — and it’s when you really start putting on a show. you sit back, feet pressed onto the bed as you spread your knees wider — displaying your cunt fully to him as you grind, letting your pleased whimpers free without a care for his friends hearing. you tune in to what he’s saying through the mic as he speaks his farewell.

“alright — hey, i’m goin’. my girls — shutup, topper — my girl needs me. don’t expect you suckers to understand. yeah whatever bro.” you’re not sure what he’s responding to and you don’t care, only whining when your folds audibly part, your stickiness calling to him.

he yanks the headset off his head and looks down on you with a glassy gaze and parted lips.

“you wanna be heard. that right?”

“no, just want you.” you combat pathetically, panting like a puppy as you hump on your boyfriend.

“yeah…” he drawls, grasping a thick handful of your hip, lips shining from his tongue’s coat in the darkened hue of his bedroom. “you want attention. tha’s what you fuckin’ want.”

you pout at this, wishing he’d drop the mean act for just a moment. you can usually work it out of him, keep pleasing him ‘til he breaks — getting soft and sometimes even silly on you. you roll your hips, inspiring a low hum from him now as he helps you along with two hands on your ass.

“maybe i just missed you, rafey.” you groan, high pitched and bordering on pornagraphic. his nose scrunched when his lips part, eyes fixated on the way your folds part around the girth of his shape in his sweatpants.

“so god damn fuckin’ sexy.” he speaks through gritted teeth, and in a split flash you’re on your back — rafe hovering above you with strong greedy hands pinning you down. “gettin’ off on my lap. who’d you think you are, hm?” he hums, taking the lead as he noses at your jaw. there’s a faint clattering of his headset sliding off the sheets but you ignore it, lost in the moment.

“think m’your girl.” you daze, and if there’s any message your boyfriend drills into your head, it’s that his girl is allowed to take what she wants. even from him.

“got that right.” he’s fighting his sweatpants down with one hand, shoving your thighs open with the other. you didn’t need any preparation today, the art of being purely ignored for a game had gotten you as wet as they come.

⛸️✧˖°❅🤍

double-crossed — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, open wounds mentioned, violence depicted, anger issues depicted, sexually explicit content, unprotected sex, aggressive sex, rafe is soft, reader is even softer — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: you despised him as much as he despised you. to him, you were nothing but a traitor to your people. you were a threat to him, he had finally met his match, but in their time of need, it's amazing who people turn to.

✧.*

the beach bonfire burned the brightest in the cut. where the waves were stronger and the sun was more intense. the lack of money was made up to you by the abundance of friends and peace. nobody really needed the money—that was what they lived by. all money did was make life easier, but life wasn't supposed to be easy. life's a bitch, until you make it your bitch.

“you're thinkin' real hard, ma, what's on your mind?” on the dock, there was a good view of the sun setting. everyone was tucked away, and the air's crisp. the sky was tinted with orange and blue, fading into the rippling sea. jj sat next to you as you lost track of time, lost track of yourself, eyes glued to what was in front of you.

“gonna kill him when i see him,” your voice was flat, monotone. jj frowned, the corners of his mouth tipping downward. it would have been easier on him if he knew you were joking, but he knew you weren't. “won't have any fuckin' parts left to bury.”

you could handle the threats and tension, but rafe cameron had crossed a line when he put his hands on pope. pope, who had done the least amount of provoking out of everybody. you hadn't been there when he had gotten jumped, and it pained you deeply. you were always ready, however. what you needed was some alone time with rafe, to get him in order your way.

“your hands are all fucked up.” jj commented, signalling to the various cuts and bruises that littered the knuckles on your fists. you brushed it off, much like everything. the walls in your room were stained with crimson—it'd taken the help of cleo, jj and kiara to hold and calm you down. kiara and sarah sent you out to recollect yourself, while they spent their time rubbing the blood out of your walls.

everybody was worried, there was no denying it. you could be more aggressive than you needed, but nobody could get used to it. ever since your parents disowned you, left you out of their will—you left home, left one side just to end up in the cut. you were alone, had no money, no family, no years of independence or experience. you still made something of yourself, found the love in your heart to call yourself a proud pogue. rafe was the first to call you a traitor, spending every moment in your presence unleashing empty threats and insults. you didn't care about rafe, you didn't care about anyone, not even yourself. you just needed to get your shit done.

“he's not worth it, (y/n),” it was unlike jj to say something of the sort—he relied primarily on instinct and nothing else. no thought, no thinking of the consequences. pure reflexes. “let him get himself fucking killed.” you didn't answer him, the sound of the waves filling in the silence. it was exactly what you were gonna do, you were gonna let him get fucking killed.

in the comfort of your own home, you found peace. it was a simple atmosphere, with the beat-down trailer park making no impression on the outside. the inside was what mattered, the warmth spreading through you as you rolled up your blinds, exposing the moonlight that embraced your skin gracefully. the air that passed through the cracked window was cool, refreshing. you retrieved a beer bottle from the fridge, the cool air grazing your bare legs as you kicked your legs over the sofa, spreading yourself out before slamming the cap of the bottle against the table's edge.

you ran a hand through your freshly-dried hair, wincing as the cheap fabric of the couch grazed your sunburnt bits. it was hot, despite the pinch of cool air, despite your lack of clothes. you were in nothing but one of jj's shirts, your panties underneath. the first buzz of dopamine hot you like a truck as you took a swig of beer, cold and invigorating. the television screen hummed with lights, volume at a bare minimum. you had soon began to regret your decision as the sound of weight against wood began to fill your ears.

your head spun towards the source of the sound, your front door locked, just a few feet away from your sofa. you rolled your eyes at the sound of the pounding, audible heavy breathing on the other side. “son of a motherfucker.” you snatched the blade sitting on the edge of your table, tucking it neatly into your underwear before pacing towards the door.

the sound of soft grunts were heard from the other side, but you had no way of making out who it was. with a steady hand, you prepared yourself, carefully unlocking the door before grabbing onto the handle, pulling with a quick flick of your wrist.

to make a miracle happen, you had to believe in them. to make a calamity happen, you had to be yourself. “you're fucking kidding.” he had his hands up, as if to say, “don't hurt me, i'm not armed,” but you couldn't take any chances, not while rafe cameron was standing on your porch in the middle of the night. you clutched your blade in one hand, using the other to disregard his stance of defeat. “no no no, (y/n)—” you grabbed onto the hem of his shirt as you pulled him into your house, past the steps of the porch. the back of his head hit your wall as you kicked the door closed and, in a matter of seconds, you had your elbow pushing down on his chest, the knife against his throat.

“(y/n), please,” he panted, straining against your touch. you shook your head, glaring at him. “not a chance, rafe,” you hissed. he closed his eyes shut, his breathing almost irregular. “give me one good reason as to why i shouldn't gut you right fucking now.”

he had no reliable answer, no good one, at least. he stayed quiet, with the knife pressing into his throat, for a good while. you watched his hands fly back up once more, the pressure you held him down with slowly loosening as he signalled to his shirt. it was torn up, stained with fresh blood. you stared at the mess, before returning his desperate gaze. “please, (y/n).”

hesitantly, you retracted the blade from his skin, letting it drop to the floor. you could tell the blood was fresh, watching the way it spresd throughout the white material of his shirt. your fingertips slid down his chest, aiming to grab ahold of the shirt's hem. you watched him, as if awaiting his approval—he nodded carefully.

the shirt was slick with blood, practically having to be peeled off his skin. he winced, stiffling a grunt of excruciating pain as you slid the shirt further up his chest, holding it down with one hand. you used the other hand to examine the situation. he had been shot. that's what it looked like, at least. the blood was constant, the wound very much open. your breath hitched as you met his gaze once more, his eyes fluttering, as if he was ready to give out at any moment.

“shit, rafe, i got you,” you wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders, your arm around his waist as you helped him walk towards the sofa. “jesus, fuck.” carefully, you sat him down, making sure he wouldn't cinch the wound. he let out a cry he failed to hold back as you helped him position himself, laying him onto his back.

it was a compromising, unexpected situation. you weren't exactly sure of what to do, whether you should've been calling jj or john b or, anybody, really. all you really knew was, in that moment, you had no rage to hold onto. you were concerned, and you had wished it was for your white sofa, and not the man bleeding onto it.

“what happened, rafe?” he shook his head, leaning it back as you listened. while he talked, you paced into the kitchen, frantically grabbing onto what you thought you'd need. rags, water, rubbing alcohol. you knew you had a medical kit in there somewhere, you just had to find it. “came by the cut, couldn't sleep. shit on my mind,” you hurried back to him, setting what you had found aside. you watched the wound swell with blood before taking one of your clean kitchen rags and placing it directly onto the source, applying as much pressure as possible. “got shot on the deck, didn't know where else to go.”

you scoffed as you positioned your fingers, putting weight onto his wound. it didn't seem too deep, but the bullet had to have been lodged in there. “could've called the hospital instead of comon' here.” he wiped his face with his hands, nodding, as if he was sorry. “i know, i just,” he paused, looking for the right words. “something told me to come here, y'know?”

you didn't question it, you weren't sure if you wanted to. you retracted the fully-stained rag, setting it aside before replacing it with another one. the aim was to soak up all the excess blood, stop the bleeding for a bit. once it had been soaked up, all that was left were the streaks of it trailing down his navel. “don't move,” you ordered, leaving him to go back for the medical kit. on the way back, as well as forth, you thought about what you were really doing. you had a chance, one to finish him off. you had the opportunity to avenge everyone—sarah, john b, pope. everybody, but you had no leverage. no rage left to hold onto, at least, not then. not while he was vulnerable.

“thanks for taking me in, i'm really sorry.” you set your kit aside, opening it to reveal neat arrays of medicine, shots, epi pens, and such. “don't thank me yet, this'll sting real bad,” you warned as you pulled out a packet of cotton pads. he gulped as he watched you—he couldn't look away, for whatever reason. you dampened the pads with the rubbing alcohol you had brought earlier. to your surprise, rafe's fingers had weakly latched onto your shirt, holding as he braced himself.

“king kook can't take the heat, what a surprise,” you laughed teasingly. he rolled his eyes, purposely retracting his touch. “you really should hold on, it'll burn.” you were right. because, the minute the pad came into contact with his wound, he found himself pulling at your shirt once more, a string of curses following.

the more you strived to disinfect it, the more the pain dialed down. you were careful to use gentle hands, wiping away as you circled his wound before finally discarding it. “you okay?” he nodded, his grip loosening as he let out a sigh of relief. he didn't have much time to deal with the pain, knowing there was only more to follow.

“rafe, i really need you to trust me now.” to extract the bullet, you needed a steady mind as much as steady hands. if you were to hit an artery, an organ—it would be fatal for him. “came here for a reason, (y/n),” he laughed weakly as he leaned back, watching the way you searched for the tools you needed. “were the best nurse on the damn island. still are.”

you shared in his laughter, the need to reminisce greater than the need to resist. “remember when you scraped your knee?” he was quick to agree, looking back on the years you two had shared together as kids. “oh, yeah,” he chuckled. “you came running with your stupid kit. all you had was water and bandages, this is an improvement.” you had fixed his knee up then the way you were now.

“when'd things all get so fucked?” the laughter had dialed down as you shrugged. “probably when i became a traitor, so you like to say.”

he shook his head, as if disagreeing, despite being his statement in the first place. “nah, nah. didn't betray any of us,” he paused to clear his throat, desperately searching for your eyes. “just miss you, y'know?” you didn't know if it was the pity that tugged at your heartstrings, watching him, sick and pale on your sofa, but you felt your gaze soften. “miss you too, rafe.”

you felt him wince at the feeling of the cold, metallic tool grazing his overheated stomach. he bit his lip as he watched you. no amount of trust could make up for how afraid he really was, it could all go wrong in a matter of minutes. he knew it, and you did. you knew it—you knew it as you used your left hand to reach for him, the atmosphere shifting as he reached back, lacing his fingers through yours. he gave your hand a squeeze, as if giving you all the permission you needed to continue.

treating the wound was the easy part. working your magic, extracting the bullet. you had it wrapped up in thirty minutes, more or less. what presented an issue was rafe. you couldn't ignore the way tears slid down his cheeks, moans of pain passing his lips as he gripped your hand. he held on tight, his leaving crescents on your knuckles. you had apologized a million times, the sound of his cries burdening your heart. during the entire process, he looked like he was ready to fall unconscious at any second. you wished he had, it'd have been a lot easier.

“thank you, so much,” his voice was softer than ever as you finished stitching him up; you were ready to wrap his wound just to be careful. “i'll be out of your hair as soon as you finish, promise.” you scoffed at the idea, despite being aware of the circumstances. he was right, he should get going as soon as possible. you didn't know what it was, but whatever it was, made it impossible for you to let him leave. “yeah, sure,” he met your eyes as you cut off a piece of gauze. “stay the night, can't go anywhere like that.”

“are you sure you want a kook here, pogue?” you knew he was joking, but it didn't stop you from tying the gauze a little too tight as you shot him a glare. “this pogue just saved your life.” it was clear who had won the argument.

you helped him get comfortable, offering him a spare top and shorts. “can i ask why you have men's clothes in extra large?” you shrugged, tossing him a wife beater and cargo shorts. “it's all jj's shit,” you didn't miss the look he shot you, his eyes switching between you and the clothes in hand. “don't tell me you have a problem with pogue clothes, too.”

he shook his head as you walked into the kitchen, allowing him all the privacy he needed while you went to retrieve two beers. unfortunately, the one you had set out earlier had grown accustomed to the room temperature. “nah, nothing like that, just wondering why you have all his shit,” you heard him as you pulled the glass bottles out. when you looked back, you froze in your tracks. he had been in the middle of pulling his joggers down, replacing them with jj's shorts. you wanted to look away, you really did, but you couldn't retract your gaze. before you could, rafe cocked his head to the side, locking eyes with you as a smirk played on his lips. “nothing you haven't seen before, sweetheart.”

you scoffed, pulling your gaze away in a state of pure embarrassment. “they call it the past for a reason, asshole.” you tossed him the bottle, watching him catch it with a taunting scoff.

you allowed him as much space as he needed on the couch, sitting on the other side as you opened your bottle the same way you had done earlier. rafe watched you, an almost genuine smile on his face, “some things never change, huh?” you turned to face him with a puzzled look, taking a swig of your drink as you did so. “all the bottle openers in the world, and you've been doing that since we were twelve.”

“yeah, i've always been the creative one, haven't i?” you watched as he copied your tactic, positioning the bottle as he slammed his palm into the cap, letting it pop right off. he had bent forward in a way that let your eyes explore him whole—you watched the way the muscles in his arms flexed, eyes sternly glaring at the bottle in hand. what you had noticed before anything else was the chain wrapped around his neck. you hadn't paid much attention before, but you had a clear view of it now.

even as he laid back down, your eyes remained glued to the familiar piece of jewellry. it was old, you could tell, what was supposed to be silver had tarnished after years of being worn. it was real silver, delicate patterns tracing the shape. rafe looked at you, following your gaze before he pulled at the chain with his thumb, his lips curling into a smile. “pretty, isn't it?” you nodded, but it was just as familiar as it was pretty. “yeah, been wearing it for years.”

“feel like i've seen it before,” you finally announced. he took a sip of beer, eyebrows raised as the smile never faltered. “i'd hope so,” he murmured, earning a look of confusion from you. “it's the best gift you've ever given me.”

it had taken a while for your memory to lock in, your look of puzzled concentration faltering after a minute. as a kook, you had spent your entire childhood with rafe. until the day your parents kicked you out, you were by his side. until the day you left and became a pogue, you were his to protect. when you were thirteen, he was a year older. you remembered buying him the chain a day before his birthday, locking it around his neck the day the clock struck midnight. “you've really kept it all these years?” your voice was soft, too soft. he nodded, though hesitant. he could barely look you in the eyes. “of course i did,” as if the answer had been obvious to everyone but you. “my favorite girl gave it to me.”

the guilt that had ate away at you all those years had begun to resurface. you thought you were angry, all this time. ever since he had crossed the poor side of the island the first time after your departure—after calling you a traitor—you thought you had been harboring anger. you hadn't betrayed your people, you had betrayed him. behind his façade of a blinding fury, he was hurt. you could see it in his eyes all those years ago, and you could see it now.

“you just took off,” he continued. “went to your house and your parents said they kicked you out. did you even think to tell me? ever think about your best friend taking you in.”

the anger had begun peeking past the pain he had been keeping inside all those years. “couldn't ask that of you, rafe. i had to go.” he scoffed, no matter how honest you were being. you couldn't face him—not him, or ward, rose. none of them, not after losing all you had. it was a match made, because that day, rafe had lost all he had, too. “so, you ran? didn't tell me shit, just left me,” his voice practically broke near the end of his sentence. “you were all i had.”

for the first time in a long time, you ignored the way your head grew foggy. you ignored the way your blood boiled and heart pounded. you ignored the anger you had been training in order to save yourself of the guilt. “i'm sorry, rafe,” you had apologized. it was quiet, but only for a while.

“forgave you a long time ago,” the way he always had. not just anybody, but you.

you had begun to imagine what your life could have been like, how many things you could have prevented for rafe and yourself. you would have lost the friends you had now, but you'd have kept the boy who was always by your side. you could have spared him the pain brought onto him by ward, by everybody. the only time he mattered was when he was with you. the artificial dream was nothing but artificial.

“i should've been there,” you summed your thoughts aloud. “after everything, i should've been there for you.”

rafe shook his head, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he sighed. “you were the only person i wanted with me,” he admitted. his words struck a nerve, your chest growing tight at the confession. “not a day's gone by, where i haven't thought about you.”

you had spent so much of your time hating him, detesting him for the way he had grown harsh and cold. how he treated you during your hour of need, but where were you when he needed you? “if i could take it all back, you know i would.” he knew you would, in a heartbeat. the hatred was nothing but the color that stained the canvas—the canvas, grief, pain. you were both in pain, you both felt betrayed. “i wish you could,” he wished you could. he really did.

the clock next to the television told you that it was three hours past midnight, but you weren't tired. silence had engulfed you both whole, both of you much too hesitant to speak. you cleared your throat, “want me to help you get to bed?” rafe turned to you, meeting your eyes with a look in them you couldn't quite decipher. “i'll sleep on the couch, you've done enough.” you weren't happy with his answer, but you didn't wanna come on any stronger than you already had.

“the bed's big enough for the pair of us,” you informed him. “you got shot, you aren't sleeping alone let alone on the couch.” he didn't want to resist, all he wanted was to jump out of his skin and straight onto the bed. your bed. with you right next to him. you offered a smile, watching his eyebrows furrow as if he were in deep thought. “it'll be just like old times.”

the bed really was big enough, enough space for a third party, too. that was precisely why your house was the go-to spot within your group of pogues. the amount of times you had woken up to jj, pope and john b drunkenly stacked on top of each other was incredible. there was always enough room for the girls, too.

you had spread out two blankets, one on top of the other. it was as humid as ever on the coast, so you really didn't need it. what you needed was to prevent rafe from losing more blood. “is this alright?” he nodded appreciatively. you felt him behind you, his presence. you felt it as he towered over you from behind, and you didn't dare turn around. he had grown an impressive amount since the last time you'd seen him. the right way, at least. you'd never know it, but he watched you. he watched the way you stood there, legs bare and hair beautifully messy. you had gotten prettier since the last time he'd seen you. he could barely recognize the knockout inches away.

you took a step towards the bed, aiming to fix the edges and tuck the bedsheets in properly. the sheets were just fine, really. you just needed an excuse to cut the tension, to resist the urge to turn around. your attempt had proved unnecessary as rafe stopped you in your tracks, his large hand clamping around your wrist as he turned you around, the need to face you stronger than ever.

for a bit, you both stayed silent. he eatched you carefully, quietly admiring the way your cheeks flared as you struggled to return his gaze. you could feel your heart pounding in your chest only, this time, you weren't angry. he dropped your wrist, fingers tracing the shape of your jaw as he moved to cup your cheek. it was as if he couldn't believe it was happening, like he had been dreaming the entire way through.

“you're so pretty,” the words tumbled out before he could stop himself, unaware of what reaction he'd induce. “always been the prettiest on the island.” he admired the work the sun had done on your skin, your eyes, your nose, your lips. the way your natural hair color had faded under the heat, but remained healthy and stunning.

you would always be his girl, nobody else's. you knew it, he knew it. nobody else needed to know, it was your truth. it was what gave you sudden courage, a dose of adrenaline. it gave you enough to stand up to him, hands of your own moving to cup his cheeks before you pressed your lips to his. he gave in the moment he walked into your house. really, the moment he had met you. even while you weren't his, he was still yours. he still gave in, and he would give in every single time.

as his lips met yours, it was as if the world faded away. the kiss started slow, a delicate exploration that ignited a fire within. rafe's fingers traced the contours of your jaw, his touch leaving a trail of heat. the taste of him was intoxicating, a perfect blend of beer and longing. his lips moved with a rhythm that spoke of familiarity, a dance that only the two of you shared. the kiss deepened, a magnetic pull drawing you closer. your hands found their way to the back of his neck, fingers weaving through his hair as the intensity heightened.

in a bold move, rafe's hands began to explore, trailing down your sides, igniting sparks along your skin. with a sudden urgency, he lifted you slightly, guiding you towards the bed. the softness of the mattress embraced you as the kiss continued, a symphony of desire building with each passing moment. the world outside ceased to exist as you succumbed to the intoxicating allure of rafe's touch. the room became a haven for whispered promises and shared vulnerability. you melted into the embrace of the bed, allowing the connection between you and rafe deepen, an unspoken understanding that transcended words.

“watch your wound, rafe,” you warned, gasping as his newly treated wound caught your attention. he couldn't care less, planting sloppy kisses alongside your jaw. your eyes fluttered shut. “don't give a shit, got better things to do,” he murmured, peppering kisses down your neck as he pulled at the hem of your shirt. he tugged at it—jj's shirt. “take this shit off, you're not wearing his clothes anymore.”

the proposal didn't seem to bother you that much. you complied, allowing him to pull the shirt off with your arms in the air. your breasts fell bare, capturing his attention faster than ever. “just like that, baby,” he practically growled. you couldn't help the moans that passed your lips as he attacked your chest, wet lips travelling down the valley as he tugged with his teeth, massaged with his tongue. you pulled at his blond locks, letting his lips trail back up your tits before latching onto yours once more.

while waiting for you to catch up, rafe undid the knot on his shorts and pushed them down to his ankles, kicking them off before removing his tank top. he was left in only a pair of loose grey boxers that rested low on his hips, showing off his v-line and his hip bones. he then motioned to you to do the same. “come on, take off your panties,” he said, grinning. “let me see that pussy.” you pouted in response. he stepped closer to you, putting his large, warm hands on your hips. “you want me to do it for you?” you bit your lip and nod slightly.

he held onto the waistband of your panties and pulled them down as he sunk to his knees. he let the delicate fabric fall next to him, looking hungrily at the newly exposed area. he leaned his face in and pressed his nose to the joint of your leg and groin, taking a deep inhale of your scent. you couldn't suppress your moans, and neither could he, the tightness in his boxers unbearable. it was wet—so wet, he almost wanted to chuckle and tease you a while. just for old time's sake, but the ache that shot down to his cock reminded him that he was in no position to tease you while not dealing any better himself. he spread your legs, kissing gently at your clit in a feather-like touch that had you moaning and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“so pretty,” he murmured, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time, this perfect pussy.” “rafe,” you gasped in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you needed him most—equally because you really needed him on your cunt and because you really needed him to shut up. “fuck, you’re dripping,” he groaned, chuckling as he toyed with you, “that’s so fuckin’ cute.”

the impatience had him dragging his tip along your folds, collecting the slick pooling at your cunt before pushing right past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buried himself to the brim. his jaw clenched, breath labored as he waited for you to adjust, let you kiss his cheeks and jaw while you murmured how handsome he was, how perfect he felt, how good was to you. your hips bucked up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he drilled into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buried his cock into you as deep as it could go with every aggressive thrust. you could feel the head kissing against the sweet spot in the back of your walls, your trembling pussy sucking him in and hugging around him as he groaned.

the friction felt sickening, like he could pass out at any second, like he was drifting along the bridge of pleasure and the crevice of consciousness. it wasn't the wound causing it, it was all you. you did that to him—he didn't know how or why, but you made him feel like he didn’t have a grip on his thoughts. he didn’t mind it so much, he thought—didn't hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around it. he was where he belonged.

rafe, in all his years of knowing you, had never experienced the side of you that could be that gentle. the side that slid your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his lats and biceps, gently caressing the skin like was made to be worshipped. your lips seared into every part of him they could find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face dug into your neck. even your voice was a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, as if saying it wrong could break him. 

“fuck, you're so tight,” he rasped, whining into your neck as your hand cupped the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips slammed into you sloppily, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he neared his climax, but it didn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, drilling into your sensitive bit each time without fail. “cum—i’m gonna cum. cum with me, baby.”

it was messy, the way cum spilled out of you and coated his dick, but it was flawless and felt so, so right, as if it was showing him all the ways he could've had you all these years. you couldn't help but think how perfectly rafe fit against you as his body slumped on top of yours, panting and exhausted as he caged you in his arms.

“don't leave,” was all he could make out through rasps, his body sputtering. you smiled sweetly, fingers looping through his as your eyes fluttered shut. “not a chance,” you promised. “not this time.”