honey

🧁🧁🧁 “I'll make you worry like no other girl can”

[hunilvs]

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˖˙ ᰋ ─ about me: twenty one⋆ april taurus ⋆ she/her ⋆ jj maybank’s gf ⋆ mustang baby ⋆ queer ⋆ rats ⋆ white lilies ⋆ headphones on ⋆ sugar talking ⋆ sebastian stan ⋆ ⋆ ★˚﹟🐁 '

[hunilvs]

girl who knows her liquor pt. 2

jack abbot x female reader

part 1

When your 10 o'clock happy hour leads to a chaotic reunion, you’re forced to face the one man you’ve been trying to stay ‘clean’ of for months.

cw: +18 MDNI, plot? what plot?, SMUT, awkward reunions, pro reconnecting with your ex 🤞, FLUFF, age gap, he is so protective omg, first everything, p in v... praise (if you squint), unprotected sex, oral (both rec), reconciliation yay !! and just me trying to be funny again…

word count: 3.3k

note: oh my... this man... unspeakable thoughts... for the first time ever i committed to finish the second part of a fic LOL so i'm proud !!

The air in the room had finally started to gain some heat.

His hands were tangled in your damp hair, pulling you closer, but then he let out a low, pained groan.

Running those stairs had been a real deal, and now the point where his leg met the prosthetic was throbbing, the friction of the climb finally catching up to him.

“You’ll have to pardon an elder,” he joked, though the pain on his face was real.

“Stop. You are not old,” you said, standing up immediately to ease his position. You kept one hand behind his neck, guiding him to sit. “I’m sure you broke a record on those stairs. I’m sorry you had to... here, sit down.”

But just as he sat down, the doorbell rang. It wasn't a normal ring, it was loud and fast, like someone was hitting the button over and over because they were scared.

You froze, looking at the door and then back at Jack.

“Should I hide in the closet?” he whispered. His eyes were teasing you, even though he was still in a bit of pain. “Is this a new boyfriend? John? Larry? Gosh, is this Shen?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Stop it.”

You opened the door and found Victoria. She looked like she had just run a race, damn those stairs were challenging, you thought.

She was shaking and holding her phone tight. “What happened? Are you okay?” she asked, breathing hard. “I heard you getting sick, some vomiting and then-”

She stopped talking. Her mouth fell open when she saw her old attending standing in your living room like he lived there.

“Oh... um... Doctor Abbo-”

“Jack. Just Jack,” he said, leaning back on the couch. “How are you, Victoria?”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, looking confused. “But... what happened? The call. I got a call! At first, it was quiet, but then I heard water and someone throwing up, and then it just cut off. I thought you were dying!”

“That make us two,” Jack added behind you.

You stared at her, horrified. Your phone hadn’t died instantly when it hit the whiskey.

How small was your social circle that your phone managed to jump all the way from ‘J’ for Jack to ‘V’ for Victoria? Your contact list was so thin that a whiskey soaked glitch could bridge the entire alphabet in a second.

“I guess it was-” you started to explain, the heat of embarrassment rising to your face.

You turned to Jack and whispered, “Wait, I’ll talk to her. I'll explain it, I’ll be back...”

You made a move to step out into the hallway, but Jack’s hand shot out. He caught you gently by the wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“No, Victoria, step inside,” he said firmly. He looked at you, then back at her. “I'll give you guys some space to talk. She's wet.”

The words hung in the air for a heartbeat too long. Victoria looked at him with big eyes.

“I MEAN-” Jack corrected himself instantly, his face turning a shade of red you both never seen on him in the ER. “She could get sick. Her hair is still damp, she has no shoes on... it's a cold hallway. Come in, Victoria.”

You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole right then and there. Jack didn't wait for a reply, he stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him to give you both privacy.

“So... you’re wet,” Victoria said. She was biting her lip, trying with everything she had to keep her laugh from exploding.

You couldn't help but cover your face with your hands, groaning into your palms.

After a long explanation of the morning's chaos, the drunk call, and the broken bottle, Victoria finally hugged you. She pulled back with a smirk. “Just promise to keep me updated on the situation.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine by tonight,” you muttered, still feeling a bit lightheaded.“Nothing to worry about. I’ve been hungover before.”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “I didn't mean the headache, silly. I’m talking about you reconnecting with your ex. You know what the ER taught me? Besides the importance of my mental health?”

You looked at her, curious. “What?”

“Dr. Cassie McKay told me once... that the greatest sex she’s ever had was when she reconnected with her ex.”

You were shocked. Your eyes went wide as you processed that. “Wait- didn’t she hate him? Wasn't he the reckless father of her child?”

Victoria shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Yeah, but she said the sex was great.”

You couldn't help it, you burst out laughing. The tension finally broke. Victoria smiled, satisfied with her work, and opened the door. Jack was still there, leaning casually against the railing of the stairs, waiting patiently.

“What’s the status, Dr. Javadi?”

The question hit like a bucket of ice water.

For a split second, the apartment complex disappeared, and you were both back in ‘trauma two’ at 3:00 AM. You and Victoria both went stiff, your spines straightening instinctively as if you were about to present a patient case.

“I-” Victoria started, her voice jumping an octave as her brain scrambled to find a medical update.

Jack let out a quiet chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just messing with you, kid.”

Victoria let out a breath she’d been holding, laughing awkwardly as she shook her head. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

She moved toward the stairs, waving a quick goodbye to you. She turned to Jack, her mouth already forming the words "Goodbye, Dr. Abbot," before she caught herself at the last second. She settled for a clumsy wave and a mumbled, “See ya, Jack,” before practically scurrying down the stairs.

The sound of her footsteps faded, leaving a heavy, ringing silence in the hallway. You stood there, holding the door open, waiting for him to step back inside. But Jack didn't move. He stayed right where he was, leaning against the railing, watching you with an expression that was hard to read.

Somehow, it was even more awkward than before. You felt exposed in your damp bathrobe, the cool air from the stairwell making you shiver.

“You should get inside,” he said finally, his voice quiet. He didn't make a move toward the door. “You’re shivering.”

“Are you... are you coming back in?” you asked, your voice sounding small.

Jack looked down at his shoes, then back at you. He looked like he was fighting the urge to reach out and pull you into a hug, but the distance between the doorway and the railing felt longer than it was. “I should probably let you rest. You’ve had a... long morning.”

You pouted a bit, your heart sinking at the thought of him walking away now. “Just...” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “Let’s not... let's not end things here. Not like this. Please.”

The look on his face changed. The struggle was gone, replaced by a raw, heavy tenderness.

He closed the distance, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, warm and grounding.

“I don't want to end them at all,” he admitted, his voice barely a breath.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with his free hand.

“I thought I was doing the right thing by staying away,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against yours. “I thought I was giving you the life you wanted. But seeing you like this... hearing you say my name on that phone...”

“Definitely not the life i wanted, Jack,” you whispered against his chest. “The whiskey, the crying, the vomiting... it’s not exactly a 'settled' look.”

He let out a soft, dry laugh and pulled you into a hug. He held you tight, his chin resting on top of your hair. “Trust me, I've seen you after a twenty four hour shift. You’re still everyone's dream to come home to, my dream.” You pulled away just enough to smiled at him.

He leaned closer, your lips meeting.

Initially, the kiss was gentle, but with each passing moment, the intensity escalated.

The passion intensified until his grip found its way to your throat, gradually squeezing just enough to make your knees attempt to buckle.

His voice now rumbled in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You could feel his hot breath against your neck as he whispered, “What do you want, sweetheart?”

Your body trembled as you felt his hands move across your skin, igniting every nerve with electricity. With a shaky breath, you answered. “I want you...”

It didn’t take long before his hands had moved from your waist and down to your thighs, urging you to wrap them around him. Which you gladly did.

He carried you to your room with practiced ease, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as if he were afraid you’d vanish if he let go. He laid you back against the mattress, but your legs stayed locked around his waist, pulling him down with you.

His hands splayed over your back, dragging you flush against him until there wasn't an inch of space left between you. He had been here so many times before, in this room, on this bed, but after two months of silence, it felt like a lifetime ago.

The craving was mutual, a sharp, desperate hunger that only the other could satisfy.

Even after all this time, Jack knew the pressure you liked and the spots that made you lose your breath. A smirk played on his lips as your body reacted to his touch in all the old, familiar ways, it gave him a level of satisfaction he could never find anywhere else.

“God, sweetheart…” he breathed against your skin, his voice rough and low. He pulled back just an inch, his eyes dark with heat. “I’m going to- the prosthetic, I need to take it off. Is that okay?”

He felt a surge of pride when he heard your soft, needy whine of approval. He moved quickly, unfastening the prosthetic and discarding his shirt in one fluid motion, letting them hit the floor before he was back over you, claiming your lips once again.

With steady, practiced fingers, he loosened the knot of your bathrobe. The fabric fell open and slipped to the sides, baring your skin to the cool air and his dark, hungry eyes.

Jack let out a shaky breath, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. “Just as beautiful as I remember,” he praised, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly tone.

His lips trailed your collar bones, kissing at the expanse of your now exposed skin. Jack worked his way down your chest, his hands coming up to cup your breasts as he kissed them.

Running his tongue over one nipple, as his hand toyed with your other breast.

You needed him, needed every single part of him. His eyes looking at you, his hands and fingers touching you, his attention, his lips. You craved for all of him.

Your fingers were tangled in his curls, running them through your fingers felt like the most natural thing in the world, it had been second nature to you for so long.

“Please Jack...”

Your voice was breathless and desperate, which only made Jack smirk against your skin.

You were rubbing your thighs together desperate for any form of friction or relief.

He desperately needed you just as much as you needed him.

“Tell me what you want.” Jack lips were back at your neck, his kisses driving you wild and making your head spin. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

“Fuck me please- Jack... I need to feel you.” You felt pathetic for saying it, but it felt so good to admit it. And it only intensified the feeling that was growing in your stomach.

Jack already had you a panting mess for him. “God I could never say no to you.”

Moving aside the last piece of fabric that covered below your stomach, you couldn't help but to plea. “I need you... please...”

Jack trailed kisses along the inside of your thigh before placing a kiss right above where you needed him most.

Quickly he licked a stripe up your throbbing pussy. A half broken moan escaped your lips as he did.

Jack went to work on you, working you over with his tongue and lips. Sucking gently at your clit before kissing all the way down to your entrance and back up again.

You knew you weren’t going to last very long, he was brutal. Attacking you exactly where you need it, with such precision. Knowing exactly where you liked to be touched.

His name fell from your lips between moans. The sound of his name on your lips was so enchanting to him. The pressure in your stomach quickly started to build.

You begged and he only hummed against your pussy in response, the vibrations making your head spin. “I wanna cum with you- with you inside.” Your fingers were clawing at his bare back, nails digging into his skin marking it up.

He groaned against your cunt at your words. Aching to be inside of you. Hesitantly he pulled away from you, the sight of your swollen clit covered in his spit only edged him on further.

You pushed yourself up with your elbows, reaching to undo his belt buckle and zipper, pushing his pants down below his hips. Letting your hand come up to cup his erection gently in your palm. Smiling as he groaned and let his head fall backwards, seeing his adam's apple bob slightly.

“Sit.” You commanded, and he obeyed. Sitting with his back against the headboard.

You hooked your fingers into the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down with his help, letting the length of his erection spring free. The sight of him only excited you more, getting closer between him, taking his length in your hands and pumping him a few times.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, quietly asking permission and he nodded.

Opening your mouth you circled the red and leaking tip of his length with your tongue a couple of times before slowly starting to take him in your mouth, one inch at a time until you couldn’t fit anymore.

Jack hands were tangled in your hair, holding it back in a ponytail with his fingers.

He could so easily manipulate your movements from here, but he wouldn’t, this would have to go on your terms.

Slowly you started bobbing your head, being careful of your teeth as you started to suck him off.

The moans and praises falling from his lips were only encouraging you to continue.

Taking him as far into your mouth as you could, feeling slight tears pressing at your eyes as you almost gagged on the length of him.

Your hand slowly worked the part of him you couldn’t fit.

Your mouth felt so good around him, he could have sworn he had gone to heaven. His mind grew foggy, heavy pants coming from his lips. “Sweetheart- I need- need to be inside of you.”

You moaned against him in agreement and carefully you pulled off him. Jack kissed you roughly, as you got closer to straddle him.

He then pulled open the nightstand drawer to search for a condom, but his fingers hit nothing but the bottom of the wood, they used to be there, he remembered that.

“I have none,” you said, biting your lip as you watched him.

“You trying to baby trap me?”

You let out a startled, breathless laugh, reaching up to swat at his shoulder, but he caught your hand and kissed your palm. “Because after the morning I’ve had, I might just let you.”

“In your dreams, Abbot.”

“Actually,” he murmured, leaning back over you and capturing your lips again, “this is exactly what my dreams look like.”

Between kisses Jack then brushed the tip of his cock against your clit and ran himself through your folds a couple of times before pushing into you with ease.

His forehead rested against yours, desperate to feel close to you in every way as you slowly started to move your hips. Gradually establishing a pace.

With each thrust, his hands helped you keep the pace, reaching the spot that made your vision blurry and your body feel faint with pleasure. Clenching around him as tightly as you could.

Neither of you were going to last long.

His tongue was poking out of his mouth, eyebrows knitted together in concentration, determined to make it last for as long as he could. He had longed for you for so long, he was not about to give you up so easily now.

No words sounded between you, only the song of moans and whimpers shared as you both found eachother again.

No one had ever had you besides Jack. It was part of what made him so addictive to you.

The pressure in your stomach had gradually been growing, and you were becoming desperate for your release, just as he was for his own.

Your head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as you focused on the feeling that with every second that passed, threatened to snap at any moment.

Seeing you become a whimpering mess on the verge of tears was mesmerizing and only made him feral to feel your release around him.

One of his hands let go of your waist and started to rub, with his thumb, quick hurried circles to your puffy clit. “Come on sweetheart, let go, I've got you, let me feel you cum around me.”

His words pushed you over the edge and you let your orgasm wash over you, your thighs and body shaking as it hit you. You clenched around him as you came. Breaths ragged on your lips and moans of his lips filled his room.

Jack wasn’t far behind you, your orgasm pulling out his own as you collapsed against him.

“God,” he whispered, the word vibrating against your shoulder. Your legs were still shaking. “I think I forgot how to breathe for a second”

You let out a shaky, satisfied breath, your fingers tracing his neck and down to his chest. “Must be- Must be the ‘elderly’ lungs, Abbot.”

He let out a real laugh then, a deep sound that rumbled through his chest.

He pull you onto his side so you were tucked firmly against him, your head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Pulling the sheet over both of you, his hand lazily tracing circles on your hip.

The silence that followed wasn't like the awkward quiet from earlier. This was the ‘trust game’ you’d missed, the feeling that no matter how messy things got outside these four walls, this was solid.

hot take, dr mckay and her ex had so much tension im sorry... he was a dick but they had that kind of tension omg, that's why i added that here LOL but im a victoria x cassie shipper 🤞

i miss the show so much... i'll probably rewatch the 2 seasons every other week to cope 🙁🙁

let me know if there's any mistakes 🫰🫰

[hunilvs]

Hi, i wanted to ask if you could write jj maybank x reader. Maybe reader is like she never let anyone see, when she is sad or doesn't feel well. But one time Sarah is alone with reader and makes a compliment about how reader look, and reader is really shocked, because it's the first complement about how reader look she had ever get in her whole life (not even from her parents), and she tells Sarah how no boy had ever tried to flirt with her or even had see her as a option for anything (i hope you know what i mean)(maybe even does dangerous things to fell more beautiful), and during the talk she confesses shes in love with JJ, and becomes louder and starts crying, because Sarah is like maybe you should tell him and please don't think about your self like that. But reader thinks JJ likes Kiara because she thinks shes more beautiful. What reader didn't know is that JJ had hide and listen, and then he starts to act different to reader in a positive way.

If you're not comfortable with writing about something like that i can understand or if you don't want, or want to change some things.

weight of an empty bag

jj maybank x female reader

sarah, john b & reader

A rare compliment from Sarah triggers a raw breakdown about never feeling seen or wanted. Shaken by your words, JJ stops playing it cool to finally show that you are his first and only choice.

cw: honestly my cleanest fic, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, emotional breakdown, insecurity and low self-worth, reckless behavior/danger seeking, post-theft... kind of slow burn? but so worthy, some language, and just me attempting to be funny again 🙁🫰

word count: 5.1k

note: thank you so so much to the one who made this request, it felt so personal to write this ❤️‍🩹 also i feel like jj is completely my boyfriend, i love writing abt him... to be loved is to be known and i sure know abt him LOL

The bag sat on the faded floral couch of the Château.

“Sarah dropped that by for you,” John B said, kicking his boots off by the door. "She figured since you’re still waiting on your stuff to get ‘shipped’ or whatever, you could use some actual girl clothes instead of my old stuff."

“Yeah... she texted me... Thanks, John B, she is so sweet...” you muttered, pulling the drawstring open. “You definitely got the lotto with her.”

He smirked and nodded, getting into his room.

You felt a sting of shame. John B didn't know the truth. He thought your luggage was lost in transit or delayed by some bus line error.

He didn't know about the diner at the stop on Grandy.

He didn't know how you’d spent your last savings on a ‘new you’ wardrobe.

Clothes that were supposed to make you look like a girl someone would actually want to talk to.

And he definitely didn't know about the guy with the ‘bad boy’ smirk who had sat across from you.

You’d tried so hard to be flirtatious, to be the kind of girl who could hold a stranger's gaze, that you’d handed him your trust, and your bag for two minutes while you went to the counter. When you came back, he was gone. Your ‘new self’ was gone too.

You’d come back to the island after 3 years away, hoping to reconnect with the girl you used to be before your parents moved for work. But two weeks back in the marsh, and you felt more like a ghost than a resident. You were ‘John B's cousin.’ You were “the one who left.”

Borrowing John B’s oversized clothes had been convenient, you wouldn't attempt to try to be visible anymore, but it didn't help the ache in your chest every time you saw JJ.

You’d known JJ, Kiara, and Pope since you were kids, but coming back as an adult, if 18 is being an adult, felt different. JJ was louder, more reckless, and devastatingly handsome.

But his gravity always seemed to pull toward Kiara. You watched the way they leaned into each other, the inside jokes, and you’d convinced yourself they were already a ‘thing.’

You didn't want to be the pathetic cousin who made things weird by asking.

“You okay?” John B asked, coming out of his room.

“Yeah,” you lied. “Just thinking about the job i can't seem to get. I need to pay Sarah back for these, somehow.”

“Don't worry about it. You're family. Sarah’s glad to help.”

Later that afternoon, after a long shower, you finally tried on the clothes.

You were finally able to wear a pair of denim shorts.

The clothes you'd borrowed from John B were t-shirts and pants from when he was fourteen, it wasn’t that you wished to wear revealing clothes, again, you were done trying to be visible. But the heat was becoming more intense as the summer approached.

You put on the shorts and a simple cotton tank top, and headed outside to the hammock.

With your legs hanging off the side, it felt refreshing. It was the first time you’d felt the breeze on your skin in weeks.

You spread the local paper across your lap, a red pen in hand, determined to find a way to earn your own keep. Knowing that finding a job on the island was hard, you had to do it old school, circling every number you could call.

The Wreck... Some Old Stuff Shop... Boat Something... Fancy Boutique... You circled the numbers with focused, steady lines.

Suddenly, you heard a voice.

It was Sarah. It made you jump, nearly tipping the hammock over. Sarah was standing at the bottom of the porch steps, a wide, genuine grin on her face. “Those legs could kill, girl! Seriously, they are like... sexy sexy. Why have you been hiding them from me?” She said the finale part playfully.

The word sexy hit you like a physical blow. You froze, looking down at your legs, exposed, and then back at Sarah. Your heart started thudding against your ribs, a cold, panicked sweat breaking out.

“What?” you whispered, your voice small.

“You're stunning,” Sarah said, getting close to you. “Those shorts were made for you. Promise i only wore them once, they are all yours.”

Your throat tightened, a hot, stinging pressure building in your eyes. “I... nobody has ever told me that before,” you said, your voice cracking just a bit, not enough for her to notice, not enough to expose your real feelings.

“Seriously, you have like, model legs. They're so toned and... sexy!!”

Sarah laughed playfully. “Wait until JJ sees you. Seriously, he’s going to go crazy.”

“JJ?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat. “Why would he... he- care? Why him?” You were almost inaudible.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Duh, because you’re sexy as hell and he hasn't been able to see you like this yet. And... since he’s already crazy for you, this is just going to make him lose his mind.”

The world felt like it was spinning. You stared at her, your grip tightening on the newspaper until the edges crinkled. “What? Sarah... what are you talking about? Are you... joking with me? Because it’s really not funny.”

“I'm not joking!” she said, her smile faltering a bit at your tone.

“You have to be,” you said, your voice rising as the panic set in. “I know... he has something with Kiara. I’m not blind, Sarah. I’ve seen them. And what's with the ‘compliments’? Trying to be nice? You don't have to lie to me.”

Sarah’s face dropped. She looked at you with genuine confusion, then sadness. “Why would you think I'm lying to you?”

“Because nobody says those things to me!” you snapped, the frustration finally bubbling over. “Not my parents, not the people at my old school... nobody! So don't tell me... JJ is 'crazy for me’ when he’s been attached to Kiara’s hip since the second I got here. It’s mean!”

You felt the tears starting to burn again, and you looked away, desperate to hide how much her ‘joke’ had actually hurt.

Sarah looked at you, her eyes softening with genuine worry. She moved closer, sitting on the edge of the hammock and placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “I'm really serious, girl,” she whispered, her voice low and sincere. “I’m not playing a joke on you. What is it? You can tell me... I’m right here.”

The wall you had built up for years finally crumbled. Seeing that she wasn't laughing, realizing that she actually meant it, made the embarrassment hit you even harder than the anger.

A sob broke from your throat, and you leaned into her. Sarah wrapped her arms around you, holding you tight while you cried into her shoulder, finally letting out the weight of the last two weeks, or maybe a lifetime.

After a moment, she pulled back just enough to wipe the tears from your cheeks with her thumbs. “What's wrong, girl? My god... you are truly beautiful. I need you to know that.”

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed from the woods, the sound of a dry branch snapping under a heavy boot. Then, the familiar voices of the boys began to drift toward the porch.

Your heart jumped into your throat. You scrambled to sit up, blinking back the rest of your tears. “Can we talk about this later?” you whispered urgently to Sarah, your voice still thick. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

Sarah gave you a quick, reassuring nod, her eyes promising that this wasn't over. “Of course.”

You quickly wiped your face, smoothed down your hair, and took a deep breath, trying to look like you’d just been relaxing in the sun. Sarah stood up and joined John B as he climbed the porch steps, followed by JJ and Pope.

“Hey, we're headed over to the Wreck for some dinner,” John B said, slinging an arm around Sarah. He looked at you, noticing the slight redness around your eyes. “You coming?”

“I think I’m gonna stay here,” you said, forcing a small, tight smile. “I still have a few more job leads to call, and honestly, the heat just has me a bit sick.”

JJ was standing at the back of the group, leaning against the railing. He didn't say anything, but his eyes were locked on you. He looked like he wanted to say something, his mouth opening slightly before he bit his lip and looked away.

John B opened his mouth to protest, but Sarah gave him a sharp, knowing look, the kind of look that told him to drop it immediately.

He looked confused, glancing between his girlfriend and his cousin, but he knew better than to argue with Sarah.

“Alright,” John B said slowly. “We'll bring you back some shrimp, okay?”

“Thanks, John B,” you muttered.

As they walked down the steps, JJ lingered for a second. He gripped the strap of his backpack, his knuckles white, before finally following the others toward the Twinkie.

You watched them go.

As the Twinkie rattled down the dirt path, JJ stared out the window, his mind a chaotic mess of guilt and adrenaline.

He hadn't just heard a conversation, he’d heard a confession that changed everything.

When Sarah had said loudly words like sexy and legs, his usual Pogue curiosity kicked in.

He’d leaned in just enough to catch a glimpse through the brush, and damn, Sarah wasn’t lying. You looked incredible.

But then the conversation took a turn that made his blood run cold.

He heard the panic in your voice when Sarah mentioned him. He heard the way you dismissed the idea of him ever wanting you. And then, the Kiara comment.

“Hell nah”, he thought, it wasn’t that he didn’t love Kiara, she was his sister, his ride or die. But she wasn't you.

You were the one who had occupied every corner of his mind since the day you left the island three years ago.

You were the one he’d been terrified to approach when you came back, scared that his mess of a life would just bring you down.

He’d been using Kiara as a shield, a way to keep things ‘normal’ because he didn't know how to tell you he wanted something more, than the friendship they were trying to rebuild. He didn't know how to tell you that he had been holding his breath since the moment you stepped off that bus.

After a couple of hours, the sound of the Twinkie pulling into the gravel driveway broke the silence of the Château.

You were already settled in for the night, dressed in a hoodie and a pair of pajama shorts.

John B, Sarah, and JJ tumbled in.

“We brought the leftovers.” JJ said, holding up a brown bag from The Wreck. He then placed the bag onto the coffee table in front of you.

The dinner sat heavy and warm in your stomach, a rare comfort.

JJ had been on his element all night, cracking jokes that made everyone ache from the stomach.

But his head was confused and spinning in thoughts. He watched you laugh at one of his dumb comments, and it killed him to think that just hours ago, you were crying.

He acted the same, but there was a new weight to his gaze. Every time you laughed, he lingered a second too long, watching the way your eyes crinkled.

Eventually, the food was gone and the yawns started. John B and Sarah headed toward his room, and JJ started moving toward the sofa. He’d given you his room the day you arrived, insisting he preferred the couch anyway.

“Night, JJ,” you whispered, heading into the bedroom.

“Night.”

He watched you shut the door, wishing he had the guts to follow you.

But the weight of the day and the constant replay of your voice in his head finally wore JJ out, he fell into a heavy sleep on the sofa, his arm draped over his eyes.

Sarah waited until John B’s breathing evened out into a steady snore.

She slipped out of bed, her feet silent on the floorboards, and crept into your room.

You were lying flat on your back, staring at the ceiling with your headphones pressed tight to your ears. The music was loud enough to drown out the world, loud enough that you didn't hear the door creak or Sarah’s soft footsteps.

It wasn’t until she waved her hand in your line of sight that you jumped, pulling the earphones down around your neck.

“What’s wrong?” you whispered, your heart hammering.

“Oh, nothing... nothing,” Sarah murmured, biting her lip. She looked at you for a second. “I just... You want to keep going with our chat? Is it okay?”

You hesitated a moment, but then nodded. She climbed onto the bed, tucking her legs under her as she sat facing you. As the two of you spoke in hushed, jagged whispers, Sarah felt a pang of guilt. She looked at you, always so steady, in the 2 weeks she had of knowing you, she thought you were fine, but she realized that no one had ever truly seen the repression boiling underneath.

You kept talking, the words coming easier in the dark. You told her the truth about the clothes. You confessed the dangerous things you’d done, the heights you would jumped from and the risks you would taken just to feel like you had some spark of beauty or worth that people would notice

Sarah’s eyes filled with tears as she listened to the depth of your pain. She reached out, gripping your hand tight. She hadn't realized how much you were hurting right in front of them. The two of you sat there together, the honesty of the moment was palpable, until the tears exhausted you both. Slowly, Sarah curled up on the edge of the mattress beside you.

The next morning, the sun had barely started to peek through the windows in the Château’s when JJ’s eyes snapped open. Usually, he was the last one up, but today, his mind wouldn't let him rest. He felt a desperate driving need to do something. He wanted to show you he saw you, even if he wasn't ready to say the words yet.

He moved quietly through the kitchen, the smell of bacon and pancakes filling the air. He put extra care into one specific plate, stacking the golden brown pancakes just right and picking out the best fruit. It was meant for you, only you, but as he looked at the lone plate, he realized how painfully obvious that would be. With a sigh, he quickly made enough of the same for everyone just to cover his tracks.

Balancing your plate in his hand, he walked and gave a soft, hesitant knock on your door.

“Come in,” a voice whispered.

JJ blinked, frozen for a second. That wasn't your voice.

He pushed the door open slowly, his confusion deepening when he saw Sarah sitting up against the headboard. You were still dead to the world, curled into a ball under the blankets, your face looking soft and peaceful in sleep.

JJ didn't let a single sound out. He just looked at Sarah, his jaw tight, and his lips moved in a silent question: “What happened?”

Sarah’s expression softened into a sad, knowing smile. She looked down at you, then back at JJ, and mouthed back, “It's okay.”

JJ lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. He felt a surge of protectiveness so strong it made his chest ache. He carefully set your plate down on the desk, making sure not to clink the ceramic. Without a word, he slipped back to the kitchen and returned a minute later with a second plate and some juice for Sarah.

He didn't try to wake you. He just gave Sarah one last lingering look, silently thanking her for being there when he hadn't been.

He pulled the door shut, leaving you to sleep while he went to wait in the living room, his heart pacing a mile a minute.

JJ couldn't sit still. He began pacing the length of the living room, his boots thumping softly. He ran his hands through his hair, his mind racing through every mistake he’d made, every time he’d looked at Kiara just to avoid looking at you.

The smell of bacon finally did its job. A door creaked open, and a very disheveled John B stumbled out, rubbing his eyes.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the food on the table and then looked at JJ, who was currently vibrating with nervous energy.

“Uh... JJ?” John B croaked, squinting at the stove. “Did you... did you cook? Without burning the house down?”

“Eat your eggs, JB,” JJ snapped, though there was no heat in it. He didn't stop pacing.

John B picked up a piece of bacon, looking at his friend with deep suspicion.

“You’re up before ten... You made breakfast. You’re pacing like a junkie. Dude, are you okay? You’re acting like the police is at the front door.”

JJ stopped. He looked at the closed bedroom door where you were sleeping, then back at John B. He took a shaky breath, the weight of the secret finally feeling too heavy to carry.

“I can't take it anymore,” JJ blurted out, his voice low but intense. “I need to ask you something. And I know... I know she’s your cousin, and there's like, a code or whatever, but-”

“JJ,” John B interrupted, a small, knowing smirk forming on his face as he chewed.

“-no, seriously, because if I mess this up, it’s not just me and her, it’s the whole group, and I don't want to make things weird between us, but I-”

“JJ!” John B said louder, stopping him mid-. “You're down bad for her. I get it.”

JJ blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly. “I didn't even finish-”

John B let out a short laugh, leaning against the counter. “You didn't have to. I’ve seen the way you look at her. I’ve seen you... Honestly? I was wondering when you’d finally admit it.”

JJ shifted on his feet, looking uncharacteristically shy. “So... you’re not- not gonna... punch me?” He asked nervously laughing.

“Man, I’ve seen you at your worst and your best,” John B said, his expression turning serious for a second. “I know how you'll treat her. I approve.” He got close, a hand on his shoulder. “Just... don't break her heart, okay?”

JJ looked back at your door, a newfound determination settling in his chest. “I’m not gonna break it, JB. I’m gonna try to fix it.”

John B let out a huff of a laugh, dropping his hand. “Okay, whatever that means, Shakespeare,” he muttered, still a bit confused by JJ’s sudden poetic intensity.

He didn't know about your breakdown on the hammock yesterday or that Sarah had spent half the night holding you while you cried, Sarah hadn't breathed a word of it.

John B looked around the kitchen, grabbing a glass of juice. “Speaking of... have you seen Sarah? I woke up and the bed was empty. I figured she was out here helping you with this five star buffet.”

JJ’s nodded toward your room. “She's in there. With her.”

John B’s brow furrowed, his toast halfway to his mouth. “In there? Why?”

JJ just shrugged. “I think they had a long night, man. Just... let 'em sleep.”

A little while later, the bedroom door finally creaked open.

Sarah stepped out first, carrying the empty plates. You followed right behind her, looking soft and sleepy. You’d ditched the heavy hoodie.

Seeing you like this, bare shouldered, eyes still half closed, and looking so comfortable in his space, made his throat go dry.

He’d seen you a thousand times, but today, everything felt different. Everything felt fragile.

Sarah walked straight over to the kitchen island, a huge, knowing grin on her face. As she set the plates down, she reached out and playfully messed up JJ’s hair, her fingers ruffling the blonde strands.

“Thanks for the breakfast, J,” she said, her voice bright. “Best service in the cut.”

You walked up beside her, your voice still a bit husky from sleep. “Yeah, thank you, JJ. It was really sweet of you.”

JJ tried to find his usual swagger, leaning back against the counter and shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the fact that they were shaking.

He looked from Sarah to you, his gaze lingering on your face just a second longer than usual.

John B looked between the three of you, sensing the weird, heavy energy in the room but unable to put his finger on it. “Okay, since everyone’s fed and happy... what’s the plan for today?”

“Actually, yeah,” you said, shifting your weight as you grabbed a glass of water. “I was gonna ask... could someone maybe drive me to the Figure Eight side? Near the country club?”

Sarah’s eyes lit up instantly. “Oh my god, yes! She had a callback for that job at the boutique.” She looked at you, practically vibrating with excitement.

You gave a small, shy smile, feeling everyone's eyes on you. “Yeah... that. I just need to drop off some paperwork and do a quick interview.”

John B grinned, leaning over the counter. “No way! That’s huge. Yeah, sure, we can all go, pile in the Twinkie-”

“Oh, no,” you interrupted quickly, waving your hands. “I don't want to mess with all your plans for the day. It’s a long drive and you guys probably want to hit the marsh. If someone could just drop me off, I can find a way back.”

JJ, who had been uncharacteristically quiet while watching you, finally spoke up. He pushed off the counter, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Of course you aren't messing with our plans,” JJ said, his voice firm and surprisingly steady. “We have none. You are our plan.”

He caught himself a second later, realizing how heavy that sounded. He cleared his throat, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he added a casual shrug. “I mean... it could be fun. Right? A little road trip to the fancy side? See how the other half is doing?“

Sarah chimed in, her mind clearly working a mile a minute, “What about this? We all head to my house. JJ, you drop me and John B off, then you drive her to the boutique. While you’re doing that, we’ll prepare some stuff, and we can have a nice picnic double date by the beach when she’s done.”

You were just finishing your glass of water when the words "double DATE" left Sarah’s mouth.

You sputtered, nearly choking as the water went down the wrong way. You coughed, your face turning a bright, frantic red.

“I- I mean!” Sarah added quickly, waving her hands as she realized she’d been a bit too obvious. “Not a date date. I just mean... because it's the four of us. Pope and Kiara said yesterday they were gonna be fixing some boats with Heyward all day, so it's just us.”

JJ was unusually silent, but he didn't look annoyed or uncomfortable. Instead, he was watching you cough, a small, amused smirk playing on his lips, though his eyes held that same new, softened look from earlier.

John B, seeing you nearly choke, jumped in to smooth things over. “Yeah, exactly! It's a Pogue Plan. It's a plan,” he said, giving a thumbs up that was a little too enthusiastic, and corny, definitely corny. You nodded quickly, grateful for the escape, and hurried back to your room.

Sarah followed right on your heels, closing the door behind her. She went straight for the bag of clothes she’d brought over, digging through it until she pulled out a stunning, delicate floral dress. “This,” she said decisively. “Boutique employee vibes.”

As you pulled it on, the soft fabric felt different against your skin.

Sarah stood behind you, looking at your reflection in the mirror, and wrapped her arms around your waist. “So, so pretty,” she whispered, her chin resting on your shoulder.

A small, genuine smile touched your lips. You were actually starting to believe her.

When you both finally stepped out of the Château, the humid air hit your face.

The boys were already in the Twinkie, the engine humming. JJ was leaning his elbow out the window, but the moment his eyes landed on you in that dress, his entire posture shifted. His hand stopped mid air as he went to adjust his cap.

“Geez,” he breathed out, not loud enough for you to hear. He slumped back into the passenger seat, dramatically clutching his chest right over his heart.

He looked over at John B with wide, mock panicked eyes. “John B, tell everyone i love them. I think I’m having a heart attack. Cardiac arrest, whatever it is, it’s aching.”

John B just laughed, shaking his head at his friend’s antics. You and Sarah reached the van, and once everyone was inside, John B drove toward Sarah's House.

JJ practically flew out of the van the second the tires stopped at Tanneyhill. He was at your door in a flash, pulling it open with a extending his hand, like he was escorting royalty.

“My lady,” he said, those blue eyes fixed on yours with a playfulness that made your stomach flip.

You laughed, the sound bright and easy, as you placed your hand in his and stepped out.

He kept his grip just a second longer than necessary before turning to Sarah, extending the same hand “Just courtesy, you are obviously not my lady,” he whispered under his breath. Sarah rolled her eyes and swiped at his arm, hitting him playfully as she climbed out. “Asshole,” she whispered back.

JJ didn't miss a beat. He swung around to the driver's side as John B hopped out. JB tossed the keys through the air, JJ caught them mid flight with a sharp snap of his wrist. “Preccieate that,” he grinned.

He didn't head for the driver's seat just yet. Instead, he walked back to the passenger side to open the door for you, fully committed to his ‘gentleman’ act. You couldn't help it, you smiled again, playfully bowing in your floral dress before sliding into the seat.

In his excitement, or maybe because his hands were still a little shaky from looking at you, JJ slammed the door shut. It was a bit too loud and a bit too hard, the metal clanging through the quiet Figure Eight neighborhood.

“JJ! A thousand times I've told you!” John B screamed over his shoulder while entering the property, his voice full of frustration.

JJ looked momentarily panicked, but he was already laughing as he yelled back, “SORRY!”

You were giggling in the passenger seat as he jogged around the front of the van and hopped into the driver's seat.

JJ didn't pull away immediately. He took a second to adjust his cap, his eyes darting to you and then back to the road.

“Been a while since I drove you somewhere,” he said, with some kind of charm. “I promise not to go more than ten over the limit... five? I don't know, I can't really make promises. But I gotta be careful... there’s precious cargo today.”

You instinctively looked over your shoulder toward the back of the van. “Precious cargo?” you asked, wondering what kind of gear or equipment he could be talking about.

Then you looked back at him and saw the way he was watching you, soft, steady, and completely focused. You realized he was talking about you.

“Don't be silly,” you said, your heart doing a little flip. You turned forward, trying to hide your blush. “You know I trust you. I’m sure you can do better than that time... I drove us back home from the marsh when we were thirteen.”

JJ’s eyes widened and he immediately covered his mouth with his hand, letting out a muffled, “JESUS.”

“I totally forgot about that,” he said, shaking his head. “And for good reason! I was traumatized. I think I still have the mark where I hit my shoulder back there.”

You were shocked for a second, the memory flooding back. It had been a disaster. There had been blood, you could barely reach the pedals, and the rain was so thick you couldn't see the road.

“But we survived, I guess,” you said softly, a small smile playing on your lips.

JJ nodded, his expression turning a bit more serious as he looked at you. “Yeah. We always do.”

He finally pulled out of the driveway. “So,” he said, glancing at you. “You nervous? About the job?”

“Technically I still haven't got it,” you said, twisting a loose thread on your floral dress. “So... I don't know.”

JJ scoffed, a confident smirk playing on his lips. “Technically, you're perfect for it.”

“Why?”

“Did they ask for a picture of you before calling for your info and the interview?” JJ asked, his eyes staying on the road but his grin widening.

“Yes...” you answered slowly.

“Okay, well, that's it. You got the job.”

“What do you mean?”

JJ let out a short, airy laugh and shook his head like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Oh, I don't know,” he said, his voice dropping into that low, sweet tone again.

“Think about it. Those Figure Eight boutiques? They don't hire 'attendants.' They hire 'faces.' They want someone who makes the clothes look like a million bucks."

He glanced over at you, his blue eyes bright and sincere. “So, being the prettiest girl in the OBX... a 'model employee' in a literal sense... doesn't ring any bells for you?”

You sat there in total shock, the words echoing in your head. Prettiest girl in town. He didn't just say you were "fine" or "okay", he said you were the prettiest. Your heart was hammering so hard against your ribs you were sure he could hear it.

You looked out the window to hide the massive, shaky smile forming on your face, feeling the heat radiate from your cheeks. You were accepting a compliment, you were feeling a compliment.

JJ glanced over, noticing your silence. He reached over and briefly squeezed your hand, the one that was currently white, knuckled on the seat, before returning it to the wheel.

“I'm serious,” he added softly. “They'd be idiots not to hire you.”

how i wished this request wasn't anonymous ☹️ it's a real good request and my first one thank you so much !! i hope i made something you would enjoy 🤞🤞 PLEASE keep making them people 🫰

i had so much fun writing this, definitely will do a part 2 JUST patience please !!

let me know if there's any mistakes...

[hunilvs]

girl who knows her liquor

jack abbot x female reader

part 2 (+18 mdni smut part)

As you read the label on your liquor bottle, something finally snapped: the name. Jack Daniel’s. It was basic, a name everyone knew, the famous brand, but your brain went straight to him. Jack Abbot.

cw: drunk-calling, drinking/drunkenness, mutual pining, age gap (both adults), hurt/comfort, fluff, mild language, kinda angst, post breakup, first everything relationship, exes to lovers (?), kissing 😏

word count: 2.3k

note: this fic is highly inspired on the song go go juice by sabrina carpenter, i'm just so obsessed with that song and JACK ABBOT omg he is THE MAN 😏🤞, i'm such a THE PITT fan, and i had to write about my boyfriend...

Being part of the night shift at a brand new hospital meant your ‘happy hour’ kicked off at ten in the morning. It was your day off, which meant you didn't have to go back to work until Wednesday.

You were over it. Two months ‘clean’ from him didn't mean the cravings were gone, it just meant you were getting better at ignoring them.

As you read the label on your liquor bottle, something finally snapped: the name. Jack Daniel’s. It was basic, a name everyone knew, but your brain went straight to him. Jack Abbot.

Switching hospitals had helped. There were no more lingering looks with him when clocking shifts, and no more shared coworkers using their free time to gossip about what had actually happened between the two of you. All of that was in the past.

When the two of you broke up, it was actually quite mature, a mutual decision. Between working opposite shifts in your second year as resident and drowning in hours, he was an attending carrying the weight of the department.

The age gap, and the unwanted attention the rumors generated, you just couldn't handle it. Not until you were in a more settled position.

It wasn’t that you hated each other. In fact, that was the problem. You figured he was pissed, you were certainly pissed at yourself for letting the stress of the ER kill your first real relationship. Your first everything relationship.

The busyness of medical school had never allowed for dates, let alone love.

When you got into the pitt, your first year of residency was on the night shift. It was heavy, but the team was united, and you were guided entirely by Abbot. You felt confident in your skills because of his trust in you.

That’s how it all started: feeling confident with him, discovering parts of yourself you never knew, and playing that game of trust, taking the lead sometimes, and letting him take it others.

Trusting him enough to finally be you.

You sighed, your vision swimming as you scrolled through your gallery. There were the 4th of July fireworks, the donuts he’d secretly sent to the breakroom for your birthday, and the blurry selfie from your first dinner at his apartment.

Your fingers felt heavy, lacking the surgical precision you were known for. You meant to call Victoria, she was the only one who understood the ER madness, having left to pursue emergency psychiatry. You missed her, and through the haze of the whiskey, your eyes searched for her contact.

But his name was right there.

A little smirk tugged at your lips. You wondered what he was up to. Had he found a new resident to mentor? With that flirtatious edge of his, it wouldn't be surprising. As the phone began to ring, you felt a surge of petty bitterness, but it faded as quickly as it came.

He didn’t deserve your shade. He hadn't been shitty, he’d been supportive. He’d held you until the very last second, hiding his own hurt so he wouldn't be, in his own words “a stone in your path.”

He wanted you to have the best, even if that meant not having him.

A part of you wished he’d just been a jerk. It would have been easier to stay away.

You ditched the shot glass and took a pull straight from the bottle. The room did a slow, nauseating tilt. The bottle was looking blurry as you tried to read the label when you suddenly heard a voice on the line.

“Hello?”

The voice was deep, steady, and entirely too sober. It sent a chill through your chest.

“Important question... how- how many shots in an ounce?” You were still squinting at the label, looking for the numbers, seeing double.

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. A long beat of silence. “Is this… are you okay? What’s going on?”

Not the answer you wanted. “Anser me, baby,” you whispered, the old pet name slipping out like a confession. “Umm, are you in town?”

“Yes...” he answered, sounding confused as he took in your words. It had been a long time since you called him, let alone ‘baby’. His voice got tight with a sudden alertness. “I’m in town. But where are you? Who is with you?”

“Well… fuck. I think… I missou. You’re on my bottle,” you giggled, tapping the ‘Jack’ on the label with a clumsy fingernail. “Yore everywhere.”

He caught on instantly. The protective attending tone clicked into place. “You’re drinking. Alone? Are you still at the same place? 9th St at Penn Ave?”

“Didn’t think youd pickup,” you smirked, ignoring his rapid questions. “How's you been? Should we hooks up? Is that why you’re asking for maddress? Coming to check my vitals?”

He sighed, not out of anger, but pure stress. “Same place, then?”

“How’s, um, love? Do you... me still love?”

The silence on the other end was deafening. Before he could answer, your hand lost its grip. The phone slid off the couch, and in a panicked lunge to catch it, you knocked the bottle of Jack Daniel's right off the edge.

CRACK.

The sound of shattering glass echoed like a gunshot. Whiskey pooled across the floor, soaking into your rug and drenching the phone. The screen flickered and went black, cutting the connection.

The violent sound sobered you up just enough to realize the mess you’d made. The sharp scent of alcohol filled the air, making your stomach do a final, aggressive flip. You scrambled up, dodging the glass shards, and bolted for the bathroom to throw up.

The cold shower had been a brutal necessity. Between the minty sting of toothpaste and the electrolytes you’d chugged like a lifeline, you felt about forty percent human again. You were wrapped in your fluffiest bathrobe, damp hair dripping onto the collar.

You were halfway through swallowing a Tylenol when the doorbell rang. It wasn’t a polite ring, it was the frantic, rhythmic buzzing of someone who was seconds away from kicking the door down.

Jack.

Your heart did a nervous skip, half nausea and half adrenaline. You’d almost convinced yourself the phone call was a hallucination until you looked at the floor. The crime scene was still there, the pieces of glass, and your dead whiskey soaked phone...

You hadn't even had time to grab a broom before the buzzing started again.

Moving pretty slow, you stumbled to the door and pulled it open.

Jack stood there, chest heaving as if he’d run the three floors of stairs.

His eyes immediately did a trauma sweep, checking your pupils, your balance, the way you were gripping the doorframe.

“You’re alive,” he breathed, the tension in his shoulders dropping just an inch.

His gaze shifted past you, landing directly on the shattered bottle and the mess on the rug. He stepped inside without waiting for an invite.

You stood there, clutching the lapels of your bathrobe like a shield. Now that he was actually inside your apartment, the silence was agonizing. it was the heavy quiet of two people who hadn't even said ‘goodbye’ at your last day on the pitt.

“You’re dripping on the floor,” he noted, his voice low. He gestured vaguely toward your wet hair, but his eyes stayed on your face.

“I took a shower. I tried to... reset,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him. Your eyes landed on the mess. “I haven't cleaned the glass yet. Don't step there. You're wearing nice shoes.” You didn't even watched his shoes, but you knew, you remembered, he is always wearing nice shoes.

“I don't care about the shoes.” Jack said, his brow furrowed. He took a cautious step around the puddle, looking at the dead phone. “When the line cut out right after a crash... I thought you’d fallen. I thought you were unconscious.”

“I just dropped the bottle. And the phone. And my dignity, probably.” You tried to laugh, but it came out as a pathetic wheeze. You cleared your throat, the awkwardness rising. “How- how have you been? Is the night shift still...?”

Jack stared at you, a look of disbelief crossing his features. “Is the night shift still loud? I just drove over the speed limit because I thought you were having a medical emergency, and you're asking about the pitt?”

“I don't know what else to say, Jack!” you snapped, the last of the alcohol fueling a sudden spark of defensiveness. “We haven't talked in months! You didn't text, I- I didn't call- well, until today. I didn't think I was allowed to ask anything else.”

The room went quiet again.

Jack rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture you knew meant he was frustrated but trying to stay composed. “I didn't text because you said you needed space to focus. I was trying to be the supportive, it’s been killing me.”

He looked at the kitchen counter, seeing the electrolyte bottle and the pill bottle. “Did you take Tylenol? You shouldn't mix that with that much alcohol. It’s hard on your liver.”

“I'm a doctor, Jack. I know,” you whispered, the embarrassment finally hitting its peak.

“Then act like one,” he stepped closer, his voice losing its edge and turning into that soft tone that always made your heart melt.

“See, as a Doctor, I can tell you’re physically fine. But as... whatever I am to you now? I’m losing my mind. You can’t just drop random questions like that and then go off the grid. I thought you were dying on the other end of that phone.”

You bit your lip. The silence stretched between you, no longer just awkward, but heavy with the weight of everything you hadn't said since leaving the pitt.

“The phone fell into the liquor.” you whispered. “It just... died. I wasn't trying to ghost you. Again.”

“Is that what you think you did?” Jack asked quietly.

He didn't wait for you to answer. Instead, he walked past you into the kitchen, his movements confident and familiar. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and a trash can, then came back to the mess on the floor.

“Jack, don't. I'll get it,” you started, moving toward him, but the room did a tiny spin.

“Stop. Stay right there,” he commanded, not with a bark, but with a firm hand held out to keep you away from the glass. That ‘attending’ authority snapping back into place. “You're barefoot and you're still swaying. Just... sit on the arm of the couch. Please.”

“I missed the pitt,” you admitted suddenly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“I miss felling confident. I thought switching hospitals would make me feel like a ‘settled’ doctor, but I just feel... lonely. I meant to call Victoria because I missed having a friend, but I called you because...”

Jack stopped his movements, a piece of glass held between his fingers. He looked up at you, his expression unreadable. “Because?”

“Because the bottle said Jack,” you said, a small, sad smile touching your lips.

“You asked me if I still loved you.”

Your breath hitched. You’d hoped he’d let that one slide under the ‘drunk excuse’ rug.

“I’m not an attending right now, and you aren't my resident,” he said, standing up and dropping the last piece of glass into the trash. He wiped his hands and stepped into your space, close enough that you could smell his cologne over the scent of the whiskey in the room. “So I’m going to tell you the truth.”

“I haven't stopped... loving you.” He whispered, his voice thick with an honesty that made your chest ache. “Not for a single day. I’ve spent the last two months wondering how you were doing, if you were happy... if you’re eating enough, if you're sleeping after your shifts, and if you’re finally realizing how incredible you are without me around to tell you. I’ve been losing my mind trying to respect that 'space' you asked for.”

He stepped even closer, his presence grounding you more than the shower or the electrolytes ever could.

“And that thing you said just now... about missing that feeling of being confident?” He shook his head slowly, a small, earnest smile breaking through his serious expression. “No one in the pitt gave you that skill. Not even me. If anything, i just held up a mirror so you could finally see it in yourself. I guided you, yeah, but you’re the one who made the calls. You’re the one who saved those lives. That skill, that instinct? That didn't come from me. It’s you. It’s always been you. Whether you’re at the pitt or across the city, you are a force.”

The tension in the room shifted. The awkwardness of the last few months was still there, but it was being drowned out by the fact that he was right here, answering the question you’d been too afraid to ask while sober.

“So,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to your lips for a split second before meeting yours again, his thumb grazing the fabric of your robe. “I still love you. Probably more than I did the day you left. Does that answer your question?”

A small, shaky smile finally broke across your face, the first real one in months. You didn't say anything, you didn't need to. You reached up, your fingers trembling slightly as you placed your hand against his cheek. His skin was warm. You leaned in, closing the gap between you.

The kiss was sweet and slow. It wasn't the frantic, desperate kiss of a hookup, it was a conversation. Every “I miss you,” every “I'm sorry,” and every unspoken “I never wanted to leave” was figured into the way your lips met his.

OHHH IM SO WRITING PART 2 😏😏😏 something spicy 😏😏😏

let me know is there’s any mistake or missing tag ! english is not my first language 🤞

[hunilvs]

personal favorites ★˚﹟

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i just love these fics soooo much 🥺🥺🥺

[hunilvs]

just like heaven

harry potter x female reader

Once the dust of the battle of Hogwarts finally settled, Harry Potter went looking for a new beginning. He found it in the most ordinary of places, a corner of the Muggle world.

cw: +18 MDNI, FLUFF, SMUT, post war/hogwarts, bit of angst, praise, established relationship, p in v... unprotected sex, sweaty intimacy (i mean is a hot af summer)

word count: 2k

note: first, this fic is obviously inspired by the song, Just Like Heaven by The Cure, second i feel like a monster because why does it looks like im the only one writing smut about harry potter... and also like i'm corrupting him even when he is literally an adult after the war and hogwarts, not proud of this tbh 😔 but i needed it out of my drafts

“Show it to me again, Harry,” you said, jumping onto the bed, ready to be his only audience.

You knew nothing about magic. You believed him, of course, you had to, because you saw it every time he showed you, but it still felt unreal. Every trick he made, every swing of his wand, felt so close to the everything.

He was just as dreamy and wonderful as his magic. You loved his messy hair and those pretty eyes that his glasses framed so perfectly. Seeing him like this reminded you of how you met.

It was after the war. After everything that had happened, he just wanted to feel normal. He had broken his last pair of glasses and denied Hermione’s help to fix them, she understood why.

He went looking for a place to buy a new pair, a new beginning. 

But he didn’t just find glasses, he found you. Soft and only you. Him, lost and lonely. You were just like heaven. He felt it the moment he saw you, he even questioned if he had actually won the war, because you were far too ethereal to even be real or in this plane.

After a little awkward, but mutual interaction, you began to date.

With time, you met his friends and the family he had chosen since his own were gone. 

After a year, as the relationship grew serious, Harry finally confessed the truth. The magical world completely shook you. You thought he was joking at first, playing along with it, but he didn't give up. You realized he wasn't joking when he offered a demonstration.

You expected that to be the end of the joke, but it wasn't like that. It was unbelievable. Your eyes couldn't grasp the reality of it, it was far beyond your understanding, like opening a shell, like being born again.

At your request, Harry now showed you the Riddikulus charm all the time. He took the boggart he kept and transformed its scary shapes into something funny and ridiculous. Each time he did, you were filled with a sense of wonder that made you feel like a little girl again, even though those days were long in the past.

It made you sad, too. You hated the thought of everything he had endured without you by his side. As you watched him turn his nightmares into jokes, you wondered about the history of those fears, where they came from, and why he had been forced to see so much darkness at such a young age...

“I wish I could have been there,” you whispered, your voice thick. “I hate that you went through all of that alone.”

Harry tucked his wand away, the boggart's last ridiculous shape vanishing back into its box. He sat beside you, his gaze dropping to your hands. “I’m glad you weren't," he said softly, his voice like a secret. “If you’d been there, I might have lost you. This way... I never had to worry about losing you. Close to heaven. Close to me. it would have been the same. I got to find you when the world was finally quiet enough to hear you and keep you.”

Finally grabbing your hand, he looked at you with a soft, curious expression. “I do wish I’d known you then, tho” he murmured. “I wonder what you looked like as a kid, before all this,” he said, while his hand wandered in the air in front of you.

You laughed softly, tucked your hair behind your ear, and looked at him. “Not so different, really. I think I actually have some pictures in that drawer over there...”

Before you could even finish the sentence, Harry stood up quickly, his eyes lighting up with a sudden, boyish hunger. “Let's see them,” he said, already moving toward the dresser. “Show me everything.”

He turned back to look at you, his expression softening into something incredibly intense. “I need to look into your past. I want all of you, every version of you, just like you have all of me.”

You pulled out an old, slightly dusty album, and he got so close that you could feel the heat radiating off him. 

As you flipped to the first page, his fingers brushed against yours, tracing the edge of a faded photo of you as a young girl. He looked at the picture like it was the most important piece of magic he’d ever seen

“See?” you whispered. “Just a normal girl.”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head slowly as his thumb grazed your knuckles. He looked from the photo back to your face. “To me, you’ve always looked like heaven. I just didn't know where to find you yet... at least, not without dying in the attempt.” You chuckled at his statement.

“I have some pictures, too,” he said. He stood up and walked toward a corner of the loft you both shared, a spot you walked past every single day.

With a flick of his wand and a whispered word, the air shimmered, and a heavy, worn leather trunk appeared out of thin air. You sat up straight, blinking in disbelief. “Umm? Since when has that been there?”

Harry gave a little grin. “Oh, I forgot. I hid it with a charm before I told you about the magic. It’s been here the whole time… Sorry…”

He dragged the trunk over and popped the latches. He pulled out a stack of moving photos, laying them right beside your still ones on the bed.

“Harry!” you gasped, jumping back slightly. “They’re... they’re moving??”

“Yeah,” he laughed softly, sitting back down. “Magic photos. They never stay still.”

You leaned in, your heart racing. There he was, eleven years old, standing in front of a massive stone castle. He looked so sweet, so small, with his oversized robes and those same glasses. He was waving at the camera, looking a little nervous but smiling.

You looked from his moving image to your own still photo, the one of you at eleven, shyly smiling in your school uniform. 

You were the exact same age in both, two children living in two completely different realities, never knowing that one day you’d be sitting on this bed together.

“You were so little,” you whispered, reaching out to touch the moving photo. The mini-Harry in the picture looked up at your finger and grinned.

Harry leaned his head against yours, looking at the two photos side by side. “I was lonely and scared then,” he admitted quietly. “I think, if I could go back and tell that boy anything, I’d tell him not to worry. I'd tell him that eventually, he'd find that something, someone, and she'd make all the fighting worth it.”

“Do you always have to be this sweet?” you whispered, a little pout on your face. “I swear, Harry, I don’t know what I did to deserve you... to own your love, your care. I love you.... I love you.” You leaned in, kissing him deeply, and you felt him respond with a low, shaky breath.

Even as he held you, his hand made a sharp, casual flick. Behind him, the room seemed to tidy itself in an instant. The photos tucking themselves back into their drawers, and the heavy trunk snapped shut before melting back into the shadows of the loft.

Seeing him handle his power so effortlessly, all while his focus never left your body, made you go crazy. It turned you on in a way you couldn't describe, this casual, raw display of his ability. Amazed you.

He began to murmur praises against your neck, “I love you... you're so beautiful... and you're mine,” his voice a low vibration that made you shiver. “I love you,” he murmured against your skin, “I love you.” He repeated it like a mantra, a spell more powerful than any he had shown you before.

Slowly, with trembling hands and breathless pauses, you began to pull away the layers of clothes, until there was nothing left between you.

The magic was still there, not in the wand or the moving pictures, but in the way his hands felt on your skin and the way he looked at you.

As he pressed your back into the pillows, his weight grounded you.

He looked down at you, his glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose, and the gravity of his gaze made your head spin.

The heat in the loft was becoming unbearable, but neither of you moved to open a window. It was a heavy summer night, the air thick and still, but the real fire was between the two of you.

Your skin felt slick and was totally responsive to the friction of his body against yours.

You were burning up, a deep, radiating heat that started in your chest and spread to your fingertips. Harry was just as hot, his chest heaving against yours, his skin damp with sweat that glistened in the low light.

You were completely tangled. The kisses became messy and desperate, fueled by the rising temperature of the room and the even hotter flame of a year's worth of built up longing.

“Harry,” you gasped, your voice breaking as he pressed his forehead against yours, both of you breathing the same air.

He didn't pull away. He couldn't. He just held you tighter, worshiping the way you moved beneath him. The world outside the loft disappearing.

His hands were everywhere, mapping the curve of your waist, your hips, his palms hot and electric as they slid over your skin.

You arched into him, a low, broken sound escaping your throat as his mouth found yours again.

“You're everything to me,” he rasped against your skin, his voice thick with a hunger that made your blood boil.

There was no room left for air, only the struggle to be closer, to be one. Your fingers pressing into his shoulders, pulling him down, needing the solid reality of him to anchor you.

When he finally moved to join your bodies, it felt like the world tilted, as if all the stars had aligned. A sharp, rush of sensation flooded through you, making your toes curl into the sheets. He moved with a slow, agonizing rhythm at first, his eyes locked on yours, searching for every flicker of pleasure on your face.

The pace quickened as the heat in the room seemed to rise with every heartbeat. You were both glowing with sweat, your bodies sliding against each other in a rhythmic, primal dance.

Each thrust was a silent vow, a physical manifestation of the year he’d spent wishing he could show you his whole world.

“Harry... Harry,” you gasped, your voice a ragged plea as the tension coiled tighter and tighter within you. “I know... I got you...” He responded, almost whimpering, it was too much...

He didn't let go, his grip on your hands behind your head, tightening as he pushed you toward the edge. The world around you blurred into a haze of gold light and breathless whispers. When the release finally came, it was like a star collapsing, an explosion of pure sensation that left you both trembling and spent, clinging to each other in the quiet, dark summer night.

Hearts hammering in sync, you stayed there for a long time.

I KNOW ITS QUITE DIFFICULT for him to actually pull a Riddikulus charm constantly or at all because you need a BOGGAR for it but omg lets pretend you gus don’t know that and he has one? somehow?? 😭🫰 i couldn’t figure another spell

after debating with my mother, yes my MOTHER, about whether he would date outside of the magic world, we came to the conclusion that yes, he totally would... we have seen enough of his personality traits to know he would be zero judgmental 🫰 the thing would be that he would only need to go and try to live in the muggle world, because even though it failed him (his uncle, aunt, and cousin were literally the only muggle people he interacted with) he would try it again.... and yup, eventually find someone🫰

let me know if there's any mistake or missing tags please 🫰

[hunilvs]

freckles

sarah cameron x female reader

You were convinced Sarah only saw you as a friend. You were sure she was into John B. But after months of repressing the truth, one unexpected confession at the chateau changes everything.

cw: mild language, FLUFF, doomed yuri (but then...), little bit of angst, hurt/comfort, kisses, mutual pining... vulnerable coming out 🫰 wlw (as in loving, not losing🫰)

word count: 2.6k

note: i'm so in love with sarah... girls like girls by hayley kiyoko was playing while i was writing, as well as ceilings by lizzy mcalpine and mr brightside the version of sydney rose... doomed yuri, that's me🫰🫰

The day was hot. The air conditioning at the Chateau had gone out, and the boys were outside trying to fix it, which meant they had to cut the electricity.

So, you and Sarah were stuck inside. It wasn't necessarily the worst thing ever, but you were used to having music in the background or at least some white noise for your conversations.

Honestly, you were just trying to avoid being this much alone with her, because you knew you wanted more. You always had, ever since the very first weeks you got to know her, you were completely in love.

She became your best friend, she was so easy to be with, and there was so much fun and care in your relationship, but you knew you were just friends.

No one else knew you liked girls or her, not because you were afraid of what they would think, but because you never thought it was important to yell to the world, “Dude, I really like girls and I’m secretly in love with Sarah.” Never. You could never. Or, at least, that’s what you thought.

The windows were wide open, wishing for even a little breeze. You were seated right in front of Sarah, looking at her face as the sun hit her skin, highlighting her pretty freckles.

You wished you could count them, though you couldn’t even count the times you’d wished you could kiss them, every single one.

Every kiss from an angel, you wished you were the one giving it instead.

She had her eyes closed, so you allowed yourself to stare, to wish, to hope, to imagine.

You smiled, and she suddenly opened one eye, laughing at the sight of you staring.

She pointed at her dimple. “See this? I'm sure you made it just by staring.”

You smiled and looked away, your stomach flipping at the sight of her beautiful smile. Your eyes landed on a guitar sitting on the left side of the room, and you reached out to grab it.

Sarah's gaze didn't hesitate. A playful, curious smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, the kind of look that made it impossible to breathe. “Well, don't just hold it. Play me something,” she challenged, her voice soft but daring. “Something you’ve been thinking about.”

You knew exactly which song had been playing on a loop in your head every time she looked at you like that.

“Well, I've been... I'm not the best, but I've been practicing this one...” you said, smiling tentatively as you rested your fingers against the strings. You felt a wave of nerves wash over you, your heart fluttering in your chest.

Sarah leaned in a little closer, her eyes softening as she watched your hands. “I bet you're better than you think,” she murmured, her voice encouraging.

The room felt even smaller then, the heat and the silence pressing in, leaving only the two of you and the guitar between you. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your shaking hands, and struck the first chord. The sound echoed through the quiet chateau, a sweet, melancholic melody that felt like a secret finally being told.

You started to sing a slower, acoustic version of Mr. Brightside by The Killers.

Sarah was immediately startled by everything, the way your hands moved surely over the strings, the unexpected sweet tone of your voice, and the intense concentration in your eyes. The usual loud, frantic energy of the song was gone, replaced by something raw and aching.

She leaned forward, her teasing smile fading into something much more serious. She didn't look away once, her gaze anchored to you as the lyrics took on a completely different meaning in the heat of the quiet room.

“Now they’re going to bed, and my stomach is sick, and it’s all in my head... but she’s touching his—”

“DICK!” Sarah sang out, loud and clear.

You stopped playing immediately, your fingers freezing on the strings.

You looked at her, completely confused by the way she had just belted that out. Sarah just shrugged, a playful light in her eyes as she explained.

“What? You didn’t know that’s the actual lyric? It’s the way it was written: bed, sick, head... dick! It’s a perfect rhyme sequence! But they made it PG or whatever.”

You couldn’t help it, you burst out laughing. “I didn’t know you were so deep into the lore of this song,” you said, shaking your head.

“Oh, come on,” Sarah said, leaning back casually. “I have this on my 'Lesbian Loser' playlist, I’ve literally analyzed every word. I like it when a song is a little gay if you squint at it.”

She said it so casually, like she was talking about the weather. But for you, the world stopped. You froze. Every bit of color drained from your face. You were in total shock, your stomach did ten thousand flips, and it felt like your soul had just left your body.

Suddenly, the front door swung open and the boys stumbled in. Pope walked toward you, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Did it kick on yet? Any sign of life from the AC?” he asked, but you didn't even blink.

You were still staring at Sarah, your breath coming out in weird, shallow hitches. Your eyes burned, and you didn't even know why, maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the shock of what she’d just said.

Pope kept talking, but his voice sounded like it was underwater. Sarah just laughed at your frozen expression and answered for him. Pope stopped and looked between the two of you, his brow furrowed. “Sarah, have we lost her? Do we need to take her to the hospital?”

Sarah let out a soft, knowing chuckle. “No, she’s fine,” she said, her eyes meeting yours with a playful, dangerous spark. “I think I can handle her.”

Pope shrugged, still looking suspicious. “Okay, well, please yell if you see the lights flicker or the AC working. We’re trying something new with the fuse box.” He turned to head back outside. “Just... try not to let her melt, Sarah.”

Melt me, she did, always.

“I’ll bring you some water and strawberries. I’m sure they’re still cold,” Sarah said, pushing herself up from the floor. She brushed a stray hair from her forehead, looking down at you with a soft, unreadable expression. “I don’t know why we even tried to play in this heat. It's way too hot to be using our energy like this.”

You just sat there, frozen, watching her walk toward the small kitchen area. You watched her gather the water and the bowl of strawberries, your mind racing through a thousand possible things to say, and every single one of them felt like a disaster.

“Oh, sorry for almost dying because you mentioned the word LESBIAN.” No, definitely not that.

“Sorry for being so shocked after one little word...” Too obvious.

“Sorry for going completely non-responsive because I thought, for a split second, that all my wishes and prayers finally came true...”

Everything you thought of, felt wrong. It felt bad, desperate, and way too honest to say out loud. But they were all the truth. Every single one of them.

She didn’t just come back and sit where she was before. She sat right beside you, her shoulder almost brushing yours, bringing the scent of sunshine and salt with her.

“Here,” she murmured, holding out a cold strawberry. “Eat. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The condensation from the water glass dripped onto your leg, but you barely felt it. All you could feel was the heat radiating from her body. You took the strawberry, your fingers grazing hers for a split second, a tiny spark that felt like a lightning strike in the quiet room.

“I'm fine,” you finally managed to choke out, though your voice sounded thin and betrayed you. “Just... the heat. Like you said.”

Sarah popped a strawberry into her own mouth, her eyes never leaving yours. She chewed slowly, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “You know,” she said, her voice dropping to that low, intimate tone she only used when the boys weren't around.

“Most people would’ve just laughed. But you? You looked like I just told you the world was ending.” She leaned in a fraction closer, the space between you disappearing. “Or like I just told you a secret you weren't ready to hear...”

You set the glass of water on the floor, focusing entirely on the strawberry in your hand because facing her felt impossible right now. Your heart was still hammering against your ribs, a frantic rhythm that matched the heat.

“Did... did Pope came in before?” your voice trembling. “Do you think he needed me? I’m actually pretty good with electrical stuff."

You were scrambling for an exit, desperate to run away from the tension thickening between you. You had no idea what to do with the weight of your feelings, they were spilling over, and the chateau suddenly felt way too small.

Sarah didn't move. She didn't let you escape that easily. She just watched you, her head tilted slightly, as if she could see right through your 'electrician' excuse.

“The boys are fine,” she said softly, her voice like an anchor holding you in place.

“Don't you have to study? I have to... totally. I can't study in the heat,” you rambled, already moving to get up, making any excuse to escape to your own house.

“It's summer,” she pointed out, her voice flat with amusement. “Guess you can’t think at all in the heat,” she added.

You couldn't believe you actually said that, in the middle of July.

Before you could fully stand, Sarah reached out and grabbed your arm.

Her grip wasn't mean, but it was firm, pulling you back down until you were seated on the floor again.

She didn't let go of your arm, and her eyes were searching yours, demanding the truth.

“Why are you acting like that?” she asked, her voice dropping all the playfulness. “What did I say that was so bad?”

“Nothing, Sarah. Nothing. It’s just... it’s complicated,” you said, finally forcing yourself to face her.

The second your eyes met, her expression shifted. She saw it all, your face wasn't the same as it had been minutes ago. You looked stressed, pained, almost pleading. You looked miserable, and the sight of it clearly rattled her. She had no idea she had caused this much of a storm inside you.

Slowly, tentatively, she reached out and placed a hand on your cheek. Her skin was warm, grounding you even as your heart tried to bolt.

“Is it...” she started, her voice barely a whisper. “Please... don't... this doesn't have to make you sad. Please... gosh.”

She looked at you, really looked at you, and the realization seemed to hit her like a physical blow. “I see it. I know. I'm... I'm sorry. I... I thought you... well, I thought this was...”

Sarah kept talking, her sentences breaking apart. Without you even realizing it, her eyes began to mirror yours, glassy, wide, and filled with the same terrifying vulnerability.

The sight of her looking just as scared as you were made your instincts kick in. You reached up, your fingers trembling, and grabbed her face too, holding her steady as the air between you turned electric.

“I really like you, Sarah. And hearing you say that... I don't know if I imagined it. I don't know if it’s just a creation of my imagination in this heat. My thoughts are always just about you, and maybe, I’m sorry if I’m wrong, maybe I imagined all of it. Maybe this isn't what I think it is, and you’re literally just my friend. The one I'll always be in love with, but will never be—”

Before you could say another word, she kissed you.

It was the only thing that could have stopped the spiral of words and the lies you were telling yourself.

Her lips were soft, desperate, and tasted like the cold strawberries she’d just brought you.

The kiss was the answer to every prayer you’d ever made, silencing the fear that this was all just a dream.

She kissed you to stop you from saying something that wasn't true, to stop you from saying you would never be hers. Because in that moment, in the heat of the chateau, you were the only thing that mattered to her.

The kiss was everything you’d spent months convincing yourself was impossible. As her lips pressed against yours, the dam finally broke.

You started to cry, not out of sadness, but from the amazing feeling of relief. It was so overwhelming that your whole body trembled, and once again, Sarah Cameron had completely melted you.

The kiss didn't break, it deepened, tasting of salt and strawberries and months of unspoken longing. When she finally pulled back just a little, her thumbs brushed the tears from your cheeks, her own breath hitching in her throat.

“Hey,” she whispered, her forehead resting against yours, her voice thick with an emotion you’d never heard from her before. “Stop. Don't cry. You didn't imagine a single thing. I've been so scared as well , okay? I thought... Well, I’ve been sitting here all day, all summer, trying to figure out how to tell you.”

She pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her expression raw and honest. “I had this whole plan to tell you before the summer ended, but I kept convincing myself that I was the only one feeling this. I was terrified that you only saw me as a friend, and that if I said anything, I'd lose the best thing that ever happened to me....”

You let out a shaky laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Then we’re both losers, I guess. We’re literally the same...”

Sarah nodded, her eyes soft and shining, and you pulled her back in for another kiss.

This time, it felt even more natural, like this was always how things were meant to be. Sarah moved instinctively, climbing into your lap as the rest of the world faded away.

Then, the front door swung open.

The boys froze in the doorway. You and Sarah broke apart, breathless and laughing, as you buried your face in the crook of her neck to hide your blushing cheeks.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, we’re gone!” John B blurted out, already spinning around.

“Yes. Definitely. I think... the pool needs cleaning,” JJ added, nodding solemnly.

Pope frowned, looking confused. “We don't even have a pool—” He started to say, but he was immediately silenced by the 'shut up' glares from the other guys.

Kiara was standing behind them, having clearly just finished her shift at The Wreck. She looked at the two of you with a proud, knowing smirk. “I knew it,” she said simply.

“Well, I didn't!” JJ chimed in, raising his hand. “I actually thought they were just queer baiting us this whole time.” Kiara rolled her eyes so hard it looked like it hurt. “JJ, real people can't queer-bait. They’re just in love.”

You and Sarah shared a look, a quiet, happy secret finally out in the open. For the first time all summer, the heat didn't feel so suffocating, it just felt like home.

i mean… 😏 let me know is there's any mistakes, i'm writing all this with a horrible sleep deprivation, but i can't stop... i'm love deprived, hope deprived... hope bait me, joy bait me PLEASE...🫰

prettiest girl ever omg

[hunilvs]

bathing suits

jj maybank x female reader

A little prank that escalated pretty quickly. You were just looking for a quiet swim and wash off at the beach. But then he happened. One stolen bikini and a negotiation.

cw: flirting, FLUFF, mild language, teasing, barely mentioned of drinking but all of them adults, reckless behavior, theft (lol), extortion (the fun kind), mentions of nudity (but nothing explicit i swear she is just in the shower)

word count: 3.7k

note: he is literally so my boyfriend... this is another fic that is part of my summer series, go and check it out!! we are on spring, almost there, ALMOST SUMMER!!

The beach was a chaotic blend of the working-class derelicts, Pogues. The rich second-homers and posers, Kooks, the natural enemies of the pogues.

And then, there are the Tourons. Totally clueless and naive. Here for a week on vacation with their families. Looking for a summer story to tell back home, while the locals were just looking for a good time. Fresh meat for the Boneyard, that’s what they call their parties on the beach.

JJ was the undisputed king of the sand. To his friends, he was the guy who’d take any bet John B threw at him after any single drop of alcohol. To the girls, he was a professional flirt, instantly categorizing every newcomer: "one night fling", "makeout material," or "just a drinking buddy."

You weren't interested in being a category. You were just the responsible sister from California, dragged to the beach by sisters who had fallen for the pogue charm, during a morning surf session.

Your middle sister, at the age where she simply falls for a tan and a surfboard, had been invited by... someone. You couldn't remember if his name was Pogue and his group was called The Popes, or if it was the other way around. Honestly, you didn't know if they were a local gang or just a really poorly coordinated boyband. All you knew was that beach boys were usually trouble, and your job was to make sure your sisters didn't end up as a summer cautionary tale.

After a quick change at the rental, you drove to the beach. By the time you arrived, the shore was a chaotic, beautiful mess. People drinking, dancing, and shouting over the music. It looked fun, in a reckless sort of way, but all you wanted was to take a little swim.

You scanned the crowd and spotted your sister. She was already deep in conversation with a group that actually looked... reliable?

There was a girl with curly hair, a tall guy with a headband, and the boy she’d mentioned earlier, Pope, or whatever his name was. Seeing them together, you felt a rare moment of relief. They didn't look like the typical beach dicks you were used to back in California.

While you were watching, a new guy slid into their circle. He had a cocky, effortless smirk and wandering eyes that scanned the group like he was looking for a prize. You watched from a distance as he immediately started leaning into your sister's space, clearly trying to lay on the charm. But before he could even finish his opening line and you could care to intervene, Pope stepped in, effectively 'claiming' her.

The group erupted in laughter, and the blond guy held up his hands in a mock apology, still wearing that sharp, mischievous grin.

You didn't know his name yet. All you saw was a local boy looking for a target.

Satisfied that your sisters were safe with their new friends, you turned away toward a small outdoor shower. It was surprisingly private, shielded by wood, totally different from the exposed public rinses in Cali.

You stepped inside, letting the water wash over you, completely unaware that the blonde boy's wandering eyes had just found exactly what they were looking for.

JJ saw you the second you turned around to get inside. He actually clutched his chest, nudging John B. “I think I’m in love,” he breathed.

“Yeah, you've said that twice today, JJ.” John B muttered, rolling his eyes.

“No, this is different. Look at her. I need to know who that is.”

JJ quickly scrambled to the shower door just as you were opening it. He held it for you, flashing his best good guy smirk.

“Thank you,” you said simply and smiling politely. You didn't linger. You didn't blush. You just walked past him towards the ocean stripped to your bikini.

JJ stood there, hand still on the door. As you walked away, JJ leaned against the door. He let out a low, melodic whistle. You didn't turn back, but the sound trailed after you all the way to the water’s edge.

“Well... I guess she’s just not into you, man.” John B chuckled. “She didn't even give you a glance.”

“Shut up, she saw me. She totally saw me,” JJ snapped, though his eyes were still glued to your silhouette in the distance. “Up close? She’s... she’s something else, John B. I need her. I’d leave the cut behind for a girl like that.”

John B rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Romeo. Pope’s new fling, said that’s the crazy one. And they are leaving soon. Like, tomorrow soon...”

“Crazy? I like crazy. I can handle crazy,” JJ grinned, his brain already lost on you.

“You aren't listening. She’s leaving, JJ. Gone. Out of here.”

“She looks old enough to make her own decisions...” JJ stated, his voice dropping into that determined tone that usually ended with someone in handcuffs or a black eye. “Maybe she just needs a reason to stay. If I can convince her...”

“You’re talking nonsense,” John B sighed.

“Definitely not.”

"Definitely yes." John B started walking towards where the drinks were. JJ making sure they didn't lose sight of you as the sky turned a soft purple.

“How are you even going to get her attention? You were at mere centimeters away at the door and she treated you like a tree.”

JJ frowned. “She said 'thank you'. That’s a start. But you’re right... I need something bigger. A real introduction. If she’s crazy, I need to be crazier.”

John B stopped, a devious smirk growing on his face. “If you want a first impression she’ll never forget... you have to be the joke, JJ. A prank.”

“A prank? What are you talking about?” JJ asked.

“No, no, hear me out...” John B whispered, pulling him closer into the shadow of a palm tree his focus now on the shower station where you had just disappeared. “She went in there with that dry change of clothes in her bag, right? She’s gonna peel that wet swimsuit off and hang it over the door to dry while she rinses. It’s a classic move.”

JJ’s eyes darted from the shower to the bag sitting innocently on the sand. “So what? I just grab the bag now?”

“No, no. You grab the bag while she's inside, distracted by the water. Then, once she hangs the suit over the door to dry... you snag that too. She’ll reach for her bag, gone. She’ll reach for her suit, gone. She’s stuck in there with nothing but a bar of soap and a her crazy California temper.”

JJ let out a low, impressed whistle. “You’re a menace, John B. You know that? A total menace.”

“I'm just giving you the stage, JJ. You want a crazy introduction? This is it...”

“Then what?” JJ asked.

“Then... you figure. But it’s got a high chance of you getting punched in the throat, but hey, you said you liked crazy."

“Why can't we ever be normal?” JJ asked with amusement and genuine curiosity after totally agreeing to this crazy idea.

"Not in our bones." John B claimed.

"Not... in our bones..." JJ repeated and whispered that statement, almost proud, handshaking John B while widely smiling.

JJ didn't need to be told twice. He was a man of action, so he waited for you to get out of the water, once the sun had set and it wasn't safe to swim anymore.

He stayed low, moving with the precision of a guy who’d spent his life dodging cops and kooks.

While the water started to hiss inside the station, JJ lunged forward. He snatched your bag and tossed it into the tall sea grass where John B was hiding.

Then came the second act.

Inside, you were finally rinsing the salt from your skin. You placed your wet bikini over the top of the wooden door, letting it hang there while you finished up. You didn't hear the soft crunch of sand. You didn't see the tanned hand reach up and hook the damp fabric.

With a silent smirk, JJ yanked the bathing suit down and bolted to where John B was.

The water shut off. Silence fell over the rinse station, broken only by the distant thrum of the boneyard party. You reached your hand over the top of the door to grab your suit.

Nothing.

Your heart skipped. You reached further, feeling only the rough, sun bleached wood. Panic started to set in as you looked toward the spot where your bag had been just minutes ago.

Gone.

You were standing there, dripping wet and stranded in a wooden box, when a familiar sound sliced through the quiet

It was that same whistle. It was not so far away at all, casual and rhythmic.

Your heart hammered. You knew that sound. You peered through a small gap in the wood. and there he was, the guy from earlier. He was leaning against a nearby palm tree, your bag hooked over his shoulder. He wasn't even trying to hide. He was just waiting for you to realize exactly who had played you...

You tried to breathe, but your lungs felt tight with a mix of cold air and pure, adrenaline. You’d looked at that group and thought reliable. You’d looked at the guy and thought harmless.

Now, you were standing on a wet wooden floor, shivering, with nothing but the sound of that infuriating, rhythmic whistle. You couldn't even poke your head over the top of the door or opened it without giving him exactly the "show" he was probably looking for.

“You’ve got exactly three seconds to put that bag back where you found it before I scream so loud your boyband friends come over here and see exactly what kind of creep you are!” You yelled, hoping only for him to listen, this was beyond embarrassing.

JJ stops whistling. He slowly walks and leans his shoulder against the wooden door of the shower, close enough that you can even hear his breathing. He doesn’t sound scared, he sounds like he’s having the time of his life. And that makes you crazy.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it. But I didn't steal anything. I’m just... a concerned citizen. I found these sitting all lonely like in the sand. Figured a girl like you wouldn't want her stuff getting salty.”

“Give. It. Back. Now.” You said, demanding, closing your eyes as a little breeze blew from the top, making you shiver.

“See, that’s the problem. I’m a Pogue. We don't do anything for free. It’s a system out here on the cut.” You couldn't help but chuckle at the stupidity of the words you were listening to. “You want money? My wallet's in the bag, take it and go!”

“I don't want your money. I want five minutes. You come out, we walk to the bonfire, you get a little warm because i bet is a little cold in there, and you tell me your name. That’s the tax for finding your stuff.”

He said it with such casual confidence, as if the negotiation was even fair. As if this wasn’t blatant, blackmail. You gripped the edge of the shower door so hard your knuckles turned white. You were shivering, you were furious, and you were currently being extorted by a guy who probably didn't even own a shirt that wasn't cut by the sleeves.

“You’re a criminal.” you hissed through the wood. “You know that, right? This is literal theft.”

“Theft is such a harsh word, ouch....” JJ chuckled. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I prefer... aggressive and enthusiastic hospitality. Now, do we have a deal, California? Or are you planning on spending the night in that box?”

The silence stretched for a bit, filled only by the rhythmic crashing of the waves and the distant, muffled bass from the music. You closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against the damp wood of the door. You were done. You were cold, you were over the island, and you were definitely over this blond headache.

“Fine.” your voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Fine. You win. Just give me the bag.”

There was a pause, a rustle of fabric, and then his voice, closer to the door than before. “Wait, wait. Not so fast, California. I need a guarantee or something. How do I know you won't just bolt the second I hand this over? Or worse... kick me where it hurts?”

You let out a huff of disbelief, your grip tightening on the wooden handle. “The guarantee is me not calling the cops on you for theft and harassment the second I get my phone back. That's your tax for the night.”

JJ chuckled, the sound low and genuinely impressed.

“Fair enough.” he conceded, and you finally saw the strap of your bag slide under the door. “Can't have the FBI crashing the bonfire because I wanted a name. Here... it’s all there. Even the swimsuit.”

You dressed in record time, your fingers fumbling with your denim shorts in the dark, shivering as the ocean breeze found its way through the cracks.

You shoved the door open, the rusty hinges letting out a groan that sounded as tired as you felt. You stepped onto the sand, hair damp and tangled.

JJ was leaning against that one palm tree you saw him against before. Lazily tossing a silver lighter into the air and catching it without looking. Showing off tanned arms and a posture that screamed he’d never followed a rule in his life.

He stopped tossing the lighter when he saw you, his eyes doing a slow, appreciative sweep from your damp hair down to your shoes. He didn't look like a guy who had just committed a crime, he looked like a guy who had just won the lottery.

“Five minutes.” you hissed, stepping right into his personal space, ignoring the way your heart gave a little jump. “Clock’s ticking, kid. Start walking.”

JJ didn't flinch. He just gave you a slow grin, the kind that probably worked on every tourist girl.

“Ouch. Kid? I prefer JJ.” he said, pushing off the palm tree and falling into step beside you as you started walking toward the distant orange glow of the bonfire. “And don't worry, California. I'm a man of my word. Five minutes of my company, and then you're free to go back to your... whatever it is people do in rentals. Probably watching movies and eating overpriced organic kale or pop zero popcorn.”

“We eat normal food.” you said, already walking faster to get away from the cold sea breeze. “And my name isn't California.”

“I know.” he said, his voice dropping into that low, mischievous tone. “But until you tell me what it actually is, it’s all I’ve got. Unless you prefer-”

You stopped in your tracks and cut him from talking, turning to glare at him. "Try any other name and see what happens."

JJ laughed, a bright, genuine sound that cut through the noise of the crashing waves. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Point taken. You really are the crazy sister, aren't you? Pope wasn't kidding”

“You aren't 'crazy' until you're casually walking with the guy who just extorted you...” The cold wind felt sharper now, or maybe it was just the sting of his words. "He said that? My sister... she said that about me?"

The fire in your eyes flickered for a second, replaced by something quieter. Something that looked a lot like disappointment. You’d spent the whole day worrying about them, protecting them from beach dicks like the guy standing in front of you, and they were busy labeling you as the crazy one to the first locals who showed them a surfboard.

JJ noticed the shift immediately. The cocky smirk didn't disappear, but his posture softened just a bit.

“Hey, don't take it like that...” he said, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. “On the cut, crazy is a compliment. It means you've got a spine. Most tourists are about as exciting as fish on water, California. But you? You've got some kick to you, wild vibes.”

The instant he said 'vibes', you knew what was coming. “Please don't-” You tried to stop him, but he instantly did what you predicted.

“Good vibes!” he said, punctuating the words with a slow, gnarly tilt of his hand. You laughed but still wasn't enough to get the recent realization out of your head.

You just looked toward the orange glow of the bonfire where your sisters were laughing, probably telling more stories. “I’m just trying to keep them safe. Someone has to be the adult.”

“Yeah, well...” JJ muttered, stepping a little closer so he was blocking the wind for you. “Being the adult is overrated. Trust me. I’ve been trying to avoid it my whole life.”

You looked at his messy blond hair, and his eyes, those eyes... A small, involuntary smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth.

“Can totally see that.” You teased him now and he let out a barking laugh. The sound was bright and infectious, and for the first time since you’d stepped out of that shower, he didn't look like a thief, he just looked like a boy who lived for the thrill of the chase.

“Ouch. First I'm a criminal, now I'm immature? You're really trying to break my heart, California...” he grinned, falling back into step with you as the sand started to glow orange from the fire. “But hey, at least you're smiling. I was starting to think your face was stuck in Witness Protection mode.”

“Don't get used to it...” you warned, though you didn't pull away when his arm brushed against yours in the narrow path to the bonfire.

The music was louder here, the heat from the massive driftwood fire hitting your face. You saw your sisters, one was holding a red plastic cup, laughing at something the girl with the curls was saying, while the other was still practically glued to Pope’s side.

JJ slowed down, his eyes scanning his friends before landing back on you. The five minutes were officially up.

“Well...” JJ said, his voice dropping into that low, magnetic tone again. “You survived. No cops, no broken bones... and I think I even saw a smile. Do I get that name now, or am I stuck calling you California for the rest of the summer?”

“Rest of the summer? You know i'm 'crazy' but not that i'm leaving tomorrow?” You asked almost with a laugh.

“Well... I knew, I just thought... maybe you should hang. Like, for more time.” He said it casually, but he was leaning into your space again, his gaze locking onto yours with that magnetic, bad idea intensity.

“Oh, I see...” you teased, a playful grin finally matching his. “So what’s the plan now? Are you going to kidnap me just to make me stay for the rest of the summer? Seriously, JJ, how many charges are you willing to face just to hang out with me?” JJ didn’t even blink. He let out a low, mischievous chuckle and took a half step closer, the heat from the bonfire warming your back.

“I don't know, California,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone. “I’ve got a clean record with the kidnapping department so far, but for you? I might be willing to start a new file.” He tipped his head toward the group, where your sisters were already watching the two of you with wide, curious eyes.

“Besides...” he added, his smirk returning in full force as he stepped into your space.“I think your sisters would help me if it meant they got to stay on the island another week. They seem like they're having a good time... Are you?”

The sharp comeback you had ready died on your tongue. You didn't pull away. Instead, you found yourself biting your lower lip, your gaze dropping to the sand before locking back onto his charming eyes.

A heavy loud silence settled between you, one that had nothing to do with the music or the crashing waves. Am I having a good time?

You thought about the last year, the constant worrying, the schedules, the lectures you gave your sisters about being careful. Was this what it felt like to become your parents? To be so focused on the horizon that you forgot to feel the sand between your toes? You’d spent so much time being the 'sane' one that you’d forgotten how to be young. You’d forgotten how to be reckless.

You looked at the guy in front of you. He was a beautiful law breaking mess. The stunt he’d pulled was infuriating, odd, and totally immature. But as he stood there, blocking the wind and waiting for your answer, you realized he was also fine as hell. And more than that? He was the first person in a long time who hadn't looked at you like a babysitter but as someone grown.

JJ’s smirk softened, his eyes tracking the way you bit your lip. He knew he’d hit a nerve, but for once, he wasn't laughing. He was just... looking at you. “Well? You gonna answer the question, California?”

“5 days.” You said snapping out of your head. He was confused. “5 days and i'll tell you my name.”

JJ just stared at you, his brain finally catching up to what you were saying. “You are staying...” He whispered as the realization hit him like a wave, and that cocky grin of his turned into something much more intense. He’d finally met his match.

You didn't wait for him to say anything else. You walked straight to your sisters, leaving him standing there. You reached the group, grabbed a drink, and took a long sip as the adrenaline finally started to fade.

Through the dancing flames and the thick smoke, you saw him. You knew this guy was odd as hell for pulling a stunt like that just to talk to you, but he definitely knew how to talk. You raised your cup just a little, a silent acknowledgment through the heat of the fire, earning a little wink from him in return.

This was definitely the beginning of something.

😏😏😏 okay let me know if there's any mistakes... english is not my first language !! i may do part 2 of this, or a whole series of the 5 days...

[hunilvs]

i'd rather be with you

jackie lawson x female reader

Jackie was supposed to take the money and disappear. But after months of midnight visits and secret meetings, he’s found something he wants more than the cash, a toxic obsession.

cw: +18 MDNI, toxic relationship, kinda dark, forbidden romance, rough handling, age gap (both adults), drug use/overdose mention, blackmailing, explicit language, suggestive themes, rough dynamics, praise/degradation (if you squint)

word count: 1.8k

note: i'm obsessed with him on the film echo valley… and im obsessed with the songs CRUSH by ethel cain and MUSTANG BABY by nessa barrett so this is totally those vibes

He was supposed to be the new hired hand, a guy that, occasionally, helped your mother fix the fences and feed the horses. But you knew the truth. You knew he wasn't there for the horses, he was there for the ninety thousand dollars.

It had all started with a mistake, a body tossed in the lake that your mother believed was your older sister’s boyfriend, but it was actually a local kid who had overdosed.

Jackie knew the truth, and he used it to trap her. To pay him off, your mother had burned down the hayloft for the insurance money, a fire that lit up the night sky like a warning, of the present and future dangers.

But while the barn burned and your mother plotted, you and Jackie were in the shadows. For months, he had been coming to your room in the middle of the night, it was a "sickness," a dark addiction that made you feel more alive than anything else in this dying valley.

Even after you learned the truth, about the body in the lake and the blackmail, you couldn't stop. You were addicted to the danger of it, addicted to him.

Maybe it was revenge for the times your mother gave everything to your sister, while you were just the shadow in the hallway.

Or maybe it was how for years you were only the "good" daughter, the one who never needed watching.

Your mother didn't even bother to watch you, she’d say, usually after a few drinks, that you didn't have the stomach for trouble.

She was convinced you didn't have the guts to be a rebel, that you lacked the "wild material" your sister was made of.

She assumed you were too soft. She didn't think she had to care about you because you were "safe."

But being "safe" felt like being dead.

That was why you let Jackie in. He didn't see a "safe" girl, he saw someone who could handle the high and the secrets. He was the first person to give you something that was yours alone, even if that something was a sickness.

You had watched your sister ruin herself for years and never touched a single pill, but with Jackie... when he held the light, or pressed the high into your palm, you took it.

All of that and every night he spent in your bed, was a way to kill the "good girl" your mother thought she knew.

You wanted to prove you could be just as dark as the rest of them. If your mother thought you were too weak to break, you were going to show her you could shatter.

With the money on his possession, he was supposed to be gone, disappearing without a trace.

But for the first time in his life, Jackie felt like he was the one being owned. He had claimed the money, but you had claimed him, and the weight of it was making him snap.

“Don’t do that. Don’t fucking do that” Jackie said, pacing the bedroom like a trapped horse.

“What? What the fuck am I doing, Jackie?” you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself as the first tears began to sting.

“Don’t ask about us. There is no us. There can't be. Never.” his eyes scanning the room as if the walls were closing in. "Jesus, you’re crazy."

“Crazy?”

“Yes, you’re fucking crazy! I’m no saint, but I’m well aware of what I’ve done. Taking you with me, after what happened with your mother... that’s a hell of a lot worse than taking the ninety thousand dollars.”

"Oh, okay. But you were definitely fine when you came into my room in the middle of the night for the last... what, four months? Yes, you were fine then, weren't you?” You waited, your heart beating fast. You wanted him to admit it, to admit he was just as addicted to this as you were. But his eyes just went pitch black.

“Shut up.” he muttered, stepping into your space. He smelled like cigarettes and the damp evening air, a scent that made your head spin even when you hated him in this moment.

“Answer me, dammit! Where were your morals when I was O'Ding because of the shit you gave me?” You stepped forward, leaning into the heat of him and refusing to back down.

“SHUT UP!”

“NO! WHERE WERE YOUR FUCKING MORALS EVERY TIME YOU FUCKED ME IN THIS ROOM?”

He finally snapped. Grabbing you by both arms and slamming your back against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of you.

“I told you to shut the fuck up!” he hissed, his face inches from yours.

“Tell me you don't want me in that stupid Mustang of yours. Tell me you aren't thinking about me every time you touch that money.”

Jackie’s grip tightened for a split second, his knuckles white against your skin, before his expression suddenly fractured. The cold, dark void in his eyes flickered, replaced by something much more dangerous: desperation. He didn't let go.

“I’m the worst thing that ever happened to your mother, and I’m the worst thing that’ll ever happen to you.” He let out a self loathing laugh, his hands sliding down from your arms to cup your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“Im taking this money, her money, to stay quiet. In exchange to make her have a life after all this shit. I'm a lowlife, a thief,” he murmured, his voice cracking as he looked at you with a terrifying kind of hunger, “i should be halfway gone now. I want to be. But i think about you in this room, in your room, in my car.... I want to take you with me, and that's the sickest part of all. I'd ruin you just to keep you.”

He didn't wait for you to answer. He just crashed his mouth against yours.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you grabbed the front of his shirt, bunching the fabric in your fists to pull him even closer.

He slowly pulled away. “I don't care, Jackie.” you breathed against his lips, your voice trembling with some kind of certainty.

You looked up at him, your eyes taking on his fractured expression. “I love this. I love how it feels. For the first time in my life, I actually feel alive, and you’re the one who did that. You’re the only thing that makes me feel anything at all.” You let out a ragged, desperate laugh, your fingers sliding up from his chest to the back of his neck, pulling his head down. “So keep me. Ruin me. I don't give a fuck as long as you don't leave this room without me.”

Jackie swore under his breath. “Fuck...”

In one sudden move, he slammed both of his hands against the wall on either side of your face, pinning you between his arms. The wood rattled behind you.

“No... This can't happen.” he muttered into the small space between you, his eyes searching yours with a look that was half hate and half hunger. Finally, he pulled away, the sudden coldness where his body had been making you shiver.

He turned his back, moving fast as he shoved the last of his things into his bag. You stood there, frozen, watching him pack. It hurt so much you could taste it. Your hands were clenched so tight that your nails dug into your palms, but the sting helped keep you from screaming.

“Jackie...” you whispered. “Please...”

He didn't even look up. He reached for the stack of cash, the ninety thousand dollars, and shoved it into the bag. He zipped it shut and threw the strap over his shoulder, walking toward the door with a cold look on his face.

But you were faster. You threw yourself against the door, blocking the way out.

“Get out of the way.” he hissed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You looked at him, your chest moving up and down, the pain in your hands matching the pain in your heart. “Then hurt me!” you screamed. “Do something to me, Jackie! Throw me across the room, I don't care! Just don't walk out that door and leave me behind.”

Jackie stood frozen for a second, his breath stopping as he stared at you. He looked shocked by your words, but at the same time, he looked almost proud. You wanted the monster in him.

The heavy bag hit the floor and the money was forgotten. In one fast move, he lunged forward, his hand grabbing your neck. He didn't squeeze hard, but he held you there, pinning you against the door.

“You're insane.” he whispered, his voice shaking.

He spun you around roughly, slamming your front against the door so your back was against his chest. He leaned in, his mouth right against your ear, his body heavy and hot against yours.

“Is this what you want?” He asked, his grip on your neck getting a little tighter. “You want me to be the worst version of myself with you? Are you really that crazy? Choosing to be hurt just to feel like you’re in control?”

You could feel the smirk in his voice. He was finally giving in to the darkness you wanted. He turned you again, holding your waist in a way that made you feel like he was finally yours.

Jackie let out a sharp laugh at your pleading eyes and your messy hair. “Fifteen minutes.” He said roughly. “Get your stuff and take it to the car. If you’re not there, I’m leaving.”

“I’ve already got it all downstairs...” you breathed, a wild smile breaking across your face. You were already ready for him.

Jackie stared at you for a second, impressed by how fast you were ready to ruin your life.

He let out a low growl and buried his face in your neck, his teeth biting your ear in a way that made you gasp.

“Good girl...” he whispered against your skin.

He pulled back just a little, a smirk on his face. “Give me your phone. Where is it?”

He didn't wait for an answer. His hands started to move all over your hips and waist, searching you, even though he knew where it was. He felt the rough denim of your shorts and finally found it tucked into your back pocket.

His palm stayed there, giving you a hard possessive squeeze that pulled your hips flush against his, making your stomach flip. He then pulled the phone out and tossed it onto the floor, cutting you off from everyone else.

“Now...” he whispered, his mouth right over yours. “Let's go.”

me posting this fic with a dead or non existent fandom:

[hunilvs]

fever

jonathan byers x female reader

You always let yourself go to the very limit, always letting a little headache become a migraine. And if it wasn't for Jonathan, you'd be letting this fever run its course without any treatment.

cw: +18 MDNI, FLUFF (? jonathan is a sweetheart), SMUT, established relationship, lots of kissing, bathtub activities(?😭), oral (fem rec), a bit of angst...

word count: 2.5k

note: this was gonna be just about jonathan being an amazing caring boyfriend… but i had to corrupt him 💔 (😏😝)

Resting your head against Jonathan's pillow, the fever kept rising. The sound of water running in the next room kept your eyes heavy and your thoughts spiraling in the heat.

It was just luck, you thought, luck to have found this caring guy on that shitty so called best publishing house in town, luck, to get to choose his lunch because he was always shy to be as demanding as the idiots who ran the place.

Lucky to hold conversations about the same topics, and lucky to be part of his personal photography project... You were lucky to simply fit into his life, your house being on his way home so he always gave you a ride, or that one time he offered you a place to stay when the roads were flooded after a big storm.

Lucky you.

The bathtub was being filled in the next room by him, hoping to break the hot and cold haze that had taken over your body.

You were now somehow inside of it, your underwear still with you. The water felt warm and it instantly made your muscles relax. Jonathan began pouring in a bottle of bubble bath, one of many, that his mother's job wasn't able to sell last year.

He pinned your hair up and carefully placed a soft towel rolled up to cushion your head. He had music playing low, your favorite mix tape, the one he carefully made for you.

“Bath looks good.” His voice got you of your thoughts. “Feels good.” You nodded with eyes half closed, you were responsive, that was a good sign compared to your previous state.

“Is it too loud?” Jonathan looked back at the cassette player.

“Huh? Oh…no. Not really.” You shook your head.

Strands of hair were sticking to your sweat-damp forehead. He grabbed a washcloth and gently wiped the sweat away. When you looked at him, his eyes were so soft they made your heart ache.

He rested his palm against your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin while the other hand kept cleaning your face. You leaned into the touch, pressing a small kiss to his palm. He gave you a shy smile. “I'm sure this will make you feel better.”

Jonathan then reached for a bottle of shampoo, he thought that as long as you were in there, you deserved the full treatment. He squeezed the bottle and poured some shampoo on his hand. You closed your eyes, letting him do the work.

Once he applied it on your scalp, you couldn't help but smile at the sensation, it was so relaxing, greatest pleasure you were able to experience in weeks. He smiled and laughed with you, aware of the power of his touch.

“That feels so good Jon...” You let yourself relax and enjoy. The music, the little light of the spring afternoon coming out of the window, a warm, thick amber that felt like a memory.

It pulled you back to a few months ago, to an afternoon just like this one but of autumn.

Jonathan had spent the whole weekend begging you to go out. The Terminator was in theaters, and he knew a good movie was the only thing that could pull you away from your notes. He even suggested a walk in the woods afterward, desperate for anything to get you out of your own head.

Even after he’d finally convinced you it was Sunday and work could wait, you didn’t even look up when he walked through the door. You were too drowned in your own words to even notice your boyfriend.

“Jon, if I say she was withholding information... they’ll make her look guilty,” you muttered, pacing the room. “But what if she is? No, she wasn't even there. Why would she care? She was watching the neighbor... the blonde one! the entire time I was interviewing her...”

Jonathan stood in the center of the living room, squinting at the chaos that you had insisted, multiple times now, was actually perfectly organized. He stepped carefully toward the couch, trying his best not move your papers across the floor.

“I think... maybe you should-” Jonathan tried to break into your brainstorm, but you cut him off.

“I should have interviewed her first!” You scratched your head aggressively with the end of a pencil.

“If I had, their stories wouldn't match, and that would be it. But it’s too late for another interview now.” You sighed, your eyes darting through a million hypothetical scenarios. Finally, you turned to him, your expression wild.

“Do you think they talked? Doesn't the blonde one work the night shift? I could catch her at dawn on her way home... would that be too rude? To corner her at 6 AM?”

You were attacking him with questions he had no way of answering. You had promised him on the phone you’d be ready in fifteen minutes, but looking at you now, hair a mess, fingers stained with ink, it was clear you hadn't even started to get ready.

You were exhausted, and it showed. But the fear of being just "the lunch girl" was stronger than the fatigue. You knew every editor's preference, who wanted their bread toasted and who took their coffee black as ink, but they didn't know you had a voice. You were ready to trade the brown paper bags for a space on that light gray paper. The story had to be perfect. You were willing to get sick, to break, to do whatever it took to finish it. But Jonathan was the only thing standing in your way, and he refused to let you destroy yourself for a signature.

Jonathan had finally seen enough. He stepped into your path, blocking you from pacing any further. Gently but firmly, he reached his hand out to yours to take the pencil. As his skin brushed against your fingers, he felt how cold your hand was.

“No more.” he said, his voice low and caring.

The sudden stillness made you realize just how cold you actually were. You hadn't even noticed it while you were caught in your head, but now that you weren't moving, the chill of the room seemed to sink into your bones.

Jonathan didn't say a word as he took off his heavy jacket, the classic blue denim with the brown lining, he placed it over your shoulders. It was oversized and held that scent of his that always made you go crazy, a mix of his cologne and the fresh air from outside.

He didn't let go of you. He guided you toward the couch, stepping over the scattered notes, and sat down first, pulling you right onto his lap. You tucked your hands into the warm sleeves of his jacket, finally letting the heat sink in.

Resting in his lap, the fog of the investigation finally started to dissipate. You looked up at him, truly seeing him for the first time since he’d walked through the door.

A wave of guilt washed over you as you realized you hadn’t even said hello. “Hi...” you whispered, a small, tired smile finally tugging at your lips.

You leaned in, tilting your head up to find his lips, wanting to feel his warmth and apologize for being so distant. You pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth, and for a second, the publishing house and the blonde neighbor didn't matter at all.

When you pulled back just a bit, Jonathan smiled, his eyes warm and relieved to have you back. “Hi.” he whispered back, his voice low and tender.

You wrapped your arms around him and leaned in, relaxing on top of him as you'd done a thousand times before. Whenever things got to be too much, Jonathan was always there to pull you back.

Jonathan caressed your hair, his lips now pressing delicate kisses against your neck, just enough to pull a soft moan from your throat.

The sound echoed in the present, a real moan escaping your lips as you sat in the warm bath. The sensation of his fingers massaging the shampoo into your scalp felt so similar that for a second, the two moments blurred into one.

Jonathan let out a little laugh, a bit confused but smiling. “That feels that good, huh?” he teased, his thumbs circling your head. You just leaned back into his hands, the memory and the reality blurring together

“I was just wondering, Jonathan... since we already filled the bathtub, would you be up to, maybe... joining me?”

Jonathan let out a soft shy laugh, his breath hitching in a way that made you bite your lip, nervous, expectant. Without saying a word, he carefully guided you to sit up so he could rinse the shampoo from your hair.

He stayed positioned behind you, in a way that made it impossible for you to see his face.

The water splashing softly against the porcelain as he worked. The moment the water stopped and the shampoo was gone, his touch changed. It wasn't about the bath anymore, his hand lingered on your shoulder, heavy and warm. His fingers started to trace the line of your shoulder with a feather light touch, moving slowly up the back of your neck.

Suddenly, his hand moved to the front, his fingers curling around the curve of your throat to pull your head back. From his spot outside the tub, he leaned over and found your lips at a sharp angle, kissing you from the side, his mouth pressing deep and hungry against yours while his hand held you steady.

A whimper left your throat when he parted from you to stand. You were quick to help him, fingers curling under the waistband of his pants. He removed his shirt quickly.

He bent down again, one of his hands cupped your face, pointer finger and thumb holding both sides of your chin.

The moment his jeans hit the floor, with your help, he was in the tub, and you were giggling underneath him as his mouth found yours hungrily.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, nipping at your bottom lip, eyes hooded.

“You’re in the tub, but you’re still in your underwear....” You teased, looking up at his face as the realization hit on him, he laughed confused. “That makes us both.” he said.

You looked down and remembered you were still in yours, too. You both stayed there for a second. Jonathan reached out, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead, his expression softening back into that protective "caretaker" look.

“Is someone still a little confused? How are you feeling?” he whispered, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Is that fever finally gone, or is it just me making you this hot again?”

You giggled, hiding your face against the crook of his neck and peppering it with kisses. Your hands moved to his shoulders, rubbing the tension away as he laughed softly against your skin. He knew you were definitely better, he could feel that the dangerous heat of the fever had finally faded, replaced by the natural warmth of the bath and your body.

Relief washed over him as he pulled you closer, returning the affection with light, butterfly kisses that started on your shoulder and trailed up to your neck.

His fingers began to wander, playfully teasing the straps of your bra, his touch lingering against your skin. The light in the bathroom was shifting into an orange, the sun was definitely setting now, casting long shadows across the room. In the background, the cassette player was still humming, Bruce Springsteen’s "I’m on Fire" began to fill the space. It was the perfect vibe, the music matching the slow, heavy heat between the two of you.

His fingers fumbled for a second against your back before he finally unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide off your shoulders as he carefully pulled it away from you.

Your head then fell back as you felt his fingers against your still covered clit, gently drawing circles that contrasted with the now sharp tiny bites he was leaving on your neck. His breathing was already ragged, and yours was picking up with each turn of his digits.

“Can you sit up on the edge of the tub for me?” He kissed your shoulder, fingers pressing slightly on the bundle of nerves between your folds.

You nodded, humming in agreement, as you lifted yourself to sit on the white rim. Jonathan followed you, eyes trailing down your wet form and stopping at where he had been touching you moments before, still covered in your white panties, which at the touch of the water left nothing to the imagination.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of the panties. They were soaked and clinging to your skin, but he peeled them down your thighs with a slow, steady pull, moving them past your knees and off your feet. He tossed the wet fabric onto the floor, his eyes never leaving yours.

His lust-filled gaze found yours as he leaned forward, tongue slowly running up your pussy lips before the tip was playing with your clit. If one of his hands hadn’t been splayed across your lower back, you would have fallen right out of the tub. He held you firm, his palm warm against your skin as he pulled you closer. His other palm stroked your thigh. While he wrapped his lips around your little bundle of nerves and began to suck gently, you felt one digit at your entrance, slowly invading you.

“Jonathan...” His name managed to leave your mouth. You tugged softly on his brown hair.

He set a moderate pace after a few moments, bringing his finger in and out of you as his tongue flicked your clit over and over... You gasped as he inserted another finger, eyes falling shut as he increased the speed of his thrusts as well as the movements of his tongue against your swollen bud. “Oh fuck- Jon-”

His digits curled inside you as they went in deeper. And you were shaking. It was getting to be too much. Jonathan was looking up at you the whole time, watching you with the most enchanted expression, one you always get to see when he is making you cum. He seemed to love the image of you coming undone, his name spilling from between your parted lips like you were worshipping him in return of every time he took care of you. Every time he brought you out of the mess in your head.

When you finally reached your peak, and even when your legs were still shaking, he pulled you down into the water with him, the water threatening to spill over the edges of the tub. With your legs locked around his hips, you pulled him into a deep, breathless kiss.

Still felling the aftershocks of your orgasm, between breathless kisses, his voice was low and sweet against your ear, praising how incredible you felt and how you were driving him crazy. He was worshipping the way you moved and tasted, his hands sure and steady against your wet skin.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered. “I want you.” your voice trembling but certain. “Right now.”

part 2?? 😏 i love him

let me know if there's any mistakes 🫰🫰

[hunilvs]

masterlist

˖˙ ᰋ ─ Outer Banks

jj maybank x female reader

⋆ bonfires. part 2 (currently writing)

⋆ bathing suits.

⋆weight of an empty bag

rafe cameron x female reader

⋆ sleepovers.

⋆ red string (currently writing)

sarah cameron x female reader

⋆ freckles

˖˙ ᰋ ─ Stranger things

jonathan byers x female reader

⋆ fever

˖˙ ᰋ ─ The Pitt

jack abbot x female reader

⋆ girl who knows her liquor. part 2

˖˙ ᰋ ─ Harry Potter

harry potter x female reader

⋆ just like heaven.

˖˙ ᰋ ─ DC universe

clark kent x female reader

⋆ is it aching?

˖˙ ᰋ ─ MISCELLANEOUS

jackie lawson x female reader (Echo Valley 2025)

⋆ i'd rather be with you

will work on...

˖˙ ᰋ ─ MARVEL universe

bucky barnes x female reader

steve rogers x female reader

˖˙ ᰋ ─ AVATAR

jake sully x female na'vi reader

˖˙ ᰋ ─ Succession

roman roy x female reader

˖˙ ᰋ ─ The Hunger Games

finnick odair x female reader

˖˙ ᰋ ─ Twilight

riley biers x female reader

˖˙ ᰋ ─ The Maze Runner

newt x female reader

˖˙ ᰋ ─ Deadly Class

˖˙ ᰋ ─ Gilmore Girls

˖˙ ᰋ ─ Wednesday

[hunilvs]

bonfires

jj maybank x female reader

After a fight with his father, JJ ran away, but you knew exactly where to find him.

cw: +18 MDNI, mentions of abuse but nothing explicit, mentions of violence but nothing explicit, mentions of self-harm but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort, ANGST, SMUT, hopeful ending🫰, oral (f rec), p in v... unprotected sex, creampie (if you squint??? idk)

word count: 4.8k

notes: writing an angst fic because i was going through it while writing, which is also, why this took so long to finish... 🫰🫰 but I’m so back !!

JJ was sitting at the edge of the beach where he had made a little bonfire. The water came and went. He had already lost track of how long he had been there.

When the sun set and the cold wind of the early summer night arrived, he hugged his legs in a vain attempt to warm himself. His chin resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on the waves ahead, but not really seeing. His gaze was lost, drowned in thoughts, of the earlier fight with his father. 

He no longer felt cold or hot. He was tired, exhausted, not only physically after what happened, but after almost a lifetime of back and forth with his father, he needed, no, needing would mean losing, he wanted, some peace. That's why he came to the beach, this place, that if it wanted could swallow him, felt way more peaceful than anywhere.

He had this feeling that there would never be any rest in his future. In fact, he did not even know if there was a future. And that, in some twisted and hopeful way, attracted him. The idea of fading away. Him no longer feeling that crushing pressure in his chest. No more of carrying stuff from his childhood. Of finally disappearing. Being free from that burden. From that curse that seemed to have been written on his skin before he was even born.

Even lost in his thoughts, JJ heard footsteps approaching. He had been through too many situations not to notice what surrounded him. Being always on alert was something he had learned.

These footsteps, in particular, were too soft for him not to recognize. He did not turn around. He remained in the same position. He did not know if he wanted you to be there. He did not know if he wanted anyone there. John B and Pope tried to comfort him before but he did not want empty words, vain hopes or "It'll be okay's".

You stopped beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the white fabric of your dress swaying in the wind.

When the fight with his father happened, you were at the Midsummer's Mingle, the first one you'd attended since you got here. But, as back in California, the event was a soulless, high-society thing your parents wanted you to be part of, and you not so much. When you finally arrived, John B filled you and the girls in on everything, how he completely crashed out when they tried to reason with him about staying strong and patient, telling him that things would be different at some point.

You did not say anything, standing in the same place.

The only sound between each other was the wind and the sea. The one he kept looking at. Wishing to disappear into that darkness. Wishing everyone would leave him alone.

After a long moment, you sat down and rested your face against your knees, mirroring his position. He watched the wind whip through your hair, but you didn't seem to care. You were still wearing your Midsummer flower crown. You looked really pretty, he couldn't help but notice.

He waited for you to speak. To say how sorry you were, how everything would be alright, the same bullshit he has heard but never seen proof of it before. Nothing was ever better, nothing ever changed. He expected you to have some pity on him, like everyone after looking at all of the notorious scratches on his face. He waited for you to try to stitch with words what was torn. But you remained silent.

At the moment, inside of him there was only resentment and anger. A bitterness that consumed him. He no longer had a voice to lament or laugh and brush it off as he used to. He no longer had enough hope to expect something better. He had been broken long ago.

For him, this silence was different. You did not try to speak nor try to make him. You were simply there. And, incredibly, it was the first silence of his life that didn't feel oppressive, lonely, or confusing.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small movement of your arm, but he was too distant to register it. His thoughts had swallowed him again and the pain had already formed a knot in his throat.

Then he felt a touch at the nape of his neck.

His body went into immediate alert. He grew even more tense, ready to react but he did not move.

Your cold fingers touched his skin softly, drawing circular movements, slow, almost distracted. The gesture was so light that he blinked a few times, trying to understand if he was not imagining it.

For some reason he did not know, he did not pull away. He remained still, but all his attention focused on that exact point where you touched him.

You had sat there, in silence, and now, without a single word, you were caressing him.

He had never been touched like that, not in the meaning of touch, but with such delicacy. Not without expectation. Not without demand. It was a touch that did not require him to be strong, or patient. 

He could not pull away. He could not ask what you were doing. He could not say that he wanted to be alone, although, in that moment, he realized that was not true.

He simply remained seated while you continued the soft caress at the nape of his neck. Gradually, his body began to relax. His shoulders gave in. His breathing became less irregular. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the tension drain away.

He did not know how long they remained like that. There was only the sound of the waves and your touch.

The absence of your movements shook his entire body, as if a warm blanket had been ripped away in the middle of a cold night. The pain, which had seemed to retreat a little, drew close again. His shoulders grew heavy once more.

Slowly, he turned his head towards you.

He attempted to say something, opening his mouth but then closing it again at the sight of you.

You had returned to hug your own legs, face turned once more toward the sea. Both the moon and the fire lit up your face, catching every detail of your features. Now that he realized, this is the first time he saw you wearing a dress, not some long-sleeved something with some shorts, this was truly something that showed your skin. 

Since your dress left your arms exposed, it was now possible to see some scars.

Revealing marks, that made him wonder a thousands things: who, when, and why?

Even so, even with those scars, you seemed so serene. He never saw this side of you coming, the evidence is undeniable, you made this to yourself, yet he’s still struggling to accept that you could ever do that.

You turned your face and looked at him. JJ was lost in the light of your eyes. Warm. Deep. Those eyes were astonishing. Calm and gentle. He could not look away. On the contrary, he felt his body lean towards them. Drawn to that serenity, as if hearing the song of a siren.

He kept moving closer without realizing it. Your eyes seemed to invite him to feel that supernatural calmness, to rest there for a moment. Make him forgive and forget.

You did not move. You did not look away. You watched him, attentive and appreciative. You wanted to be there, you knew part of what he was feeling. You knew about being abused and harmed by the ones who are supposed to be there for you.

He leaned in a little more. It seemed inevitable to draw closer. As if he had been hypnotized. He felt your soft breath brush his face. He was too close and yet, it still didn't seem enough. No words, but your eyes said and communicated everything.

He wanted to feel anything that was not guilt. Anything that was not pain. He wanted, even if it only lasted for a second, he wanted to ease the weight that crushed him from within.

And you were there, silent, serene, simply waiting. As if you knew how to cure him.

JJ leaned in a little more, the tip of his nose almost touching yours.

When you closed your eyes, he knew it was inevitable and meant to be. And he closed his too.

Your lips were soft, he immediately thought, his were trembling and warm. The brush felt almost innocent. They remained like that for a moment that seemed suspended in time, as if the world had stopped around both of you.

Then he pulled back slightly and looked at you again. Your eyes opened, appearing even calmer and more gentle.

Wanting to make him feel anything but that crushing weight inside his chest, you leaned in. The touch, which had initially been almost innocent, changed when you sighed softly, parting your lips slightly. He opened his against yours, slowly kissing your now parted mouth.

It was slow and almost like floating, as if, for a few seconds, he was no longer sinking.

He sucked your lower lip and let his tongue slide into your mouth. When your tongue touched his, he felt his chest grow warm, the pain that had been there was being pushed away, centimeter by centimeter.

He needed it to continue. He needed the pain to go away. And it was you who was pushing it back, even without knowing.

He doesn't recall being kissed like that before. Gentle. Sweet. Warm. Unhurried. Without demands. Without expectations that he be anything beyond what he was in that moment: just a tired boy trying not to fall apart.

He could not bear the idea of pulling away, so he held your face with both hands.

That kiss now felt deeply sensual. He could feel it throughout his entire body. It was as if he was being seduced and, at the same time, learning to seduce you. Learning the language of your body.

When he could no longer breathe, he gently kissed your jaw and then your neck. Your skin felt like silk beneath his lips. The moment his lips touched your neck, he heard you moan softly. It was unexpected, almost inaudible, but because of that, it seemed like the most erotic and precious sound he had ever heard. It shook through his entire body, as if it had passed directly through the emptiness in his chest.

He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to be sure he could still provoke something that was not pain.

He kissed your neck again, running his tongue where he had lightly sucked. And you moaned again low, almost secret, as if that sound belonged only to him.

He returned to kiss your lips. So slowly that he could feel every centimeter of your mouth. He wished to memorize the taste, the texture, the warmth. He felt your hand rise again to his neck, your delicate fingers slipping into his hair, his precious blonde curls. Still gentle, but now firmer. You answered the kiss with the same calm but now neediness, rubbing your tongue slowly against his, as if guiding him. Showing yourself and learning about him.

You instinctively began to lean back, holding his neck, not allowing him not to follow you even though the touch was light enough that he could refuse. But he would never refuse. He leaned with you, still kissing you, as if that were the only thread keeping him above the surface.

Then you lay back on the sand, and he hovered over you.

JJ pulled away from the kiss and looked at you. Your lips, usually pink, were red. Your cheeks had taken on a soft shade of rose. Beautiful. He remembered every time he recalled you being beautiful and you not noticing. And him, feeling stupid for not saying it out loud, for not having the guts to ask you out, or break the no pogue on pogue macking rule. After all you were friends, but somehow he was always drawn to you and you were always drawn to him.

He kissed you again. He needed to keep feeling that. He supported himself on his right arm while his left hand slid along the side of your neck and down your arm. Up and down slowly, making you shiver beneath his touch. Each shiver was a confirmation that you were there. Alive. With him. Real. A confirmation of the looks, the smiles and the vibes of the past months.

Your hand, which had been at his neck, slid down his spine. Soft. Warm. Comforting. And, at the same time, setting his skin on fire. It was strange how something could be shelter and fire at the same time. But he learned it with you.

He sighed against your mouth, trying to contain that anxious feeling, that was not only desire but also fear. Fear that it would end. Fear that it would be one more thing taken from him.

You caught his lower lip between your teeth and bit lightly. At the same time, you slid your fingers beneath his shirt, drawing a low, involuntary moan from him.  The sound sent a spark straight to your stomach.

He wanted you to touch him. Everywhere. Your touch was like a lighthouse in the middle of the darkness, impossible not to follow. Your hand moved up his spine while your tongue clashed with his. Your lips slid over his, warm and damp, pulling another restrained sound from his throat.

He returned to kiss your neck, descending along your collarbone. He lowered the thin white strap of your dress to kiss your shoulder. Then, above the neckline. He could hear you sigh, and he wanted to keep those sounds, like tourists collecting seashells on the beach, small treasures that proved the sea was real.

Your hand slid down his spine to his abdomen, light as a feather, making him shiver.

JJ pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on yours, and then he pulled his shirt over his head.

Your eyes wandered slowly over his chest, as if observing a map for the first time. Your feelings were a tangled mess. You felt the pull of desire, but it was dampened by the raw sight of his broken skin. It was hard to breathe, caught between wanting him and wanting to heal him. Torn in two. One half of you was burning with need, the other was cold with the horror of his wounds.

You stretched out your arm and touched him with the tips of your fingers, letting them wander without hurry. The touch was so light, you did not want to hurt him, and that made his body warm as if the cold wind of the night no longer had any power.

You leaned forward and kissed his chest, right over his heart. He felt a chill in his stomach. You kissed his collarbone again and then his neck. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as your lips traveled up his jaw until they found his again. Soft kisses, almost like the beating of a butterfly’s wings.

He opened his eyes when your touch disappeared. You were now sitting, looking at him. He wanted to touch you again.

His hand went to your neck, sliding down your shoulder where the strap had been lowered. You tilted your neck and closed your eyes, offering yourself to the touch as if it were something desired, as if he were not destruction or bad news.

Because you knew he was more than he ever thought, more than the others did. You had a past, a similar one, that you had finally moved beyond. Moving to this island was your new beginning, and meeting him was like looking at a mirror of your younger self. Not with pity, but with understanding. You knew he needed a little light, something to look for, someone to be there. And you were there. You wanted, needed, to be there.

JJ placed a kiss on your shoulder, his fingers sliding down your arm. Meanwhile, your fingers remained soft on his chest, feeling each accelerated beat. Taking it in on the moment.

He lowered the other strap and kissed the soft curve of your neck, descending to the neckline.

He lifted his gaze to you.

Your eyes were attentive to him.

For him, touching you was like being pulled under by the tide. By the time he realized it, he was already at the bottom, and for the first time, perhaps he didn't want to return to the surface.

Now your movements were almost in slow motion as you removed the strap of the dress from one arm and then the other. JJ held his breath when you let the dress slide down your body and gather at your waist. Your breasts are now exposed to him.

The air seemed thin. He felt like this was something he did not deserve to touch. 

He stretched out his hand, touching the curve of your breast almost shaking. His fingers ran to the already hardened nipple, making slow circles. You moaned softly and pushed your breast against his hand. He was fascinated not only by your body, but by the fact that you allowed him to be there, that you wanted him there. That you wanted this. Him.

His other hand went to your other breast, and both worked in synchrony. He squeezed the nipple between his fingers, gentle at first and then firmer. You moaned again, your lips parted and your eyes were fixed on him. Those eyes had no fear. No doubt. They held a choice. He thought.

JJ held your shoulder and made you lie down again. He leaned down and kissed you for a moment, then descended to the space between your breasts. The kiss was soft as he watched your reaction. Your eyes shine, and your breathing has become shallower, compared to your serene state before.

He was not willing to return to the emptiness.

He closed his eyes and let his lips travel along your body. The sensation of your skin beneath his mouth was almost unbelievable. He placed light kisses on your chest until he reached your nipple, taking it between his lips and running his tongue over it. You had moaned again and did not stop while he sucked and licked. Your hands now caressing his gentle curls as he worked on you.

Your sounds were as powerful as your touches, perhaps more. JJ kept attempting to bring them up with silent urgency.

After a long time working on your breasts, you were already a mess beneath him, whimpering.

"Please... JJ..." He heard you say softly.

His heart skipped a beat. It was the first time he’d heard your voice all night, the very first word between you. And it was his name, whispered between moans. In your mouth, his name didn't feel like a burden, it sounded like a confession of want.

He knew what you wanted, but even the idea made his heart race. He lifted his face and looked at you. Your cheeks were even rosier, and your lips too. Your eyes seemed to burn. It was sexy, erotic, and completely dazzling.

JJ kept his gaze locked on yours as he trailed kisses down your stomach. He reached the dress, still caught at your waist, and stopped to watch you. You said nothing, only held his gaze and gave him a little smile, one he reciprocated.

His heart beat so hard it almost drowned out the sound of the sea.

He held the dress and began to pull it. You quickly lifted your hips minimally, allowing him to remove it down your legs. He knelt beside you. He could not decide whether you looked like a mermaid or an angel. Your skin reflected the moonlight, too soft, almost impossible to look away from.

You did not seem embarrassed under his gaze. You simply remained lying there, breathing with difficulty, watching him attentively. Waiting.

Your white panties made you look untouched, pure, even though your breasts were reddened by his touch.

JJ took a deep breath and leaned down again. His hands went to your panties with reverence. His fingers brushed your skin, making the moment undeniably real. You might look supernatural, but you were warm. Alive. Shivering beneath his touch.

His hands trembled as he pulled the panties down. It was not only desire that shook him it was the silent fear of ruining it. You let him slide them down your legs, and he did it as if touching something sacred. Something fragile although your strength was undeniable.

When the panties came off, his mouth went dry. He felt the blood rushing through his body, and for the first time, it did not mean danger. Since you had arrived, nothing that night felt hopeless. Nothing that night felt like anything he had ever felt before.

For him, you were simply dazzling. He could see the folds of your wet pussy. And he knew it was because of him. His already formed bulge hardened even more.

He wanted to kiss you all over your body. To worship you as if he were in a sanctuary. His body leaned toward you without him even noticing. He kissed below your belly button, then a little lower. His eyes met yours at the exact moment his lips settled on your pussy. You held your breath and bit your lip.

Your scent hit him, soft, intimate. He wanted to keep that scent in his memory forever.

His tongue moved, exploring carefully.

You moaned, a little louder than before, but still restrained. Every sound you made seemed to pass through his skin and warm something that had always been frozen.

JJ shifted position, and without needing to say a word, you opened your legs and he knelt between them. Now he saw you completely. Intimately, he had never seen anyone. And he knew, without asking, that no one had seen you like that.

Even so, you looked at him with implacable calm. With firm assurance.

This time JJ went straight to your wet center. His tongue traveled along your folds, from top to bottom. Licking you eagerly. Your moans became more constant. The more he licked, the more you moaned.

When he ran his tongue over your clit, he felt your hand in his hair, applying gentle pressure for him to continue there. And he obeyed.

He closed his lips around that small bud and sucked. Your legs closed around his head and your moan grew longer. He felt your legs tremble and your body contract. Your pussy was growing wetter and he realized you were coming. His first instinct was to open his mouth and lick you, wanting to taste on his tongue the flavor of your climax.

When you relaxed and released his hair, he lifted his face. His lips were wet. You were breathing with difficulty, but smiling at him with a big, satisfied smile.

He wanted to kiss that smile. A smile he knew belonged only to him.

He lay over you and kissed you. Your now bare skin touching his was more than he could imagine. He wanted to feel that completely, skin against skin, without barriers.

You ran your nails softly down his back, descending to the waistband of his shorts. The gesture was not hurried. You began to undo the button.

JJ knew that once he took off his shorts there would be no turning back. But he did not want to turn back either.

Your kiss still hypnotized him, while your hands still dragged him like a wave breaking on the sand. All he did was keep kissing you and lift his hips slightly so you could pull down the zipper and then tug his shorts and underwear down together.

He helped you lower them enough for his length to be free and rest against your stomach. Both of you moaned at the contact. When your hand wrapped around him and your thumb stroked his wet tip.

JJ had to pause the kiss and draw in air.

You guided him gently between your legs. He pressed against you, a low moan escaping against your neck. It was all too intense. He wanted to say something, to thank you, to promise, to confess, but the words wouldn't come. There was only the feeling.

Your eyes were steady on him. Shining with something he had never seen before, but it was breathtaking.

You did not need any words. You both felt enough.

Your hand guided him and he pushed slowly inside of you. When his head entered, squeezed by your warm walls, he moaned.

He pushed further and it was something like heaven and hell at the same time. Too tight, too warm. Completely perfect.

You moaned softly, eyes squeezed, your lashes trembling, your mouth parted.

Your hands moved up and down his spine, making him relax. You wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed him. JJ pushed the rest of the way in. Moaning when you bit his lip hard and his hard length was buried entirely inside of you.

JJ noticed you tense for the first time, so he kissed you slowly while one hand moved to your breast, circling the nipple and squeezing it between his fingers. You seemed now relaxed beneath his touch. Your hand loosened around his waist.

He began to move slowly, in and out, as if the rhythm of the waves on the sand determined his own. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, and from your loud moans, he knew it was yours, too. He wouldn't last much longer, that mix of tightness and tenderness was more than he could take.

When he was too close to the edge, he kissed your mouth carelessly, wet and completely intoxicating.

For the first time, losing control did not feel like weakness.

He moaned into your mouth and kept the same rhythm as he was thrown into his orgasm. You tightened your legs around him, holding him inside and moaning when you felt his now released load inside of you. It made you tremble, forcing your own release to bloom until you were both lost in it.

JJ moaned louder, taking in the best orgasm he had ever had in his life. He continued moving in and out of you, attempting to keep the pleasure he felt for as long as possible. His body is trembling over yours.

When he relaxed, his weight fell over you, but you did not complain. You kept your legs around his waist, your hand making circles at the nape of his neck while he recovered his breath heavy against your neck.

There was an enormous silence inside of him.

But it was not the silence of emptiness or guilt.

It was a light silence without pain.

Only calm. Your calm.

He moved and, to avoid crushing you with his weight, lay down beside you, looking up at the dark sky filled with stars. Completely breaking contact with you felt off, so he stretched out his arm and let his fingers brush against yours. He needed that minimal connection, that invisible thread that kept him anchored.

Only then did he realize they had not spoken. Not with words. Their looks and touches had formed an entire dialogue. As if he had said everything, the exhaustion, the guilt, the despair, and you had listened attentively, without judging him.

How was that possible?

The cold wind, a sharp contrast to the heat from before, made your skin prickle and you shivered. As he dressed, he held out your dress on his hand, you kept looking at him, blushing even deeper than before at the sight of his after sex look. You gave him a shy, sideways smile. He stared back, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He handed you your dress, but you went back to stare at him. Without noticing, he was still holding your panties and that's why you kept looking at him.

“Can I have those?” You asked and he realized. His ears now hot, he handed them to you.

You laughed softly, a delicate sound.

When you were both ready, you returned to the chateau. In your car, he drove. His hand rested on your thigh. The short drive had you ranting about your day at the midsummers. And he listened attentively, he wanted time to freeze and keep you here, with him, close, he knew that when your absence settled in, the pain could return.

Once you arrived, he remained silent staring at the lights inside the chateau.

You were a bit confused.

“Why don't you stay? I mean, tonight, would, would you..?” He said trying not to scare you, make it seem casual, even when he knew it wasn't, nothing about this was.

should i make part 2? i loved this story... i love it when it hurts 🫰

thank u for reading !!

let me know if there's any missing tag or any mistake 🫰 english is not my first language !!

[hunilvs]

sleepovers

rafe cameron x female reader

kiara, sarah, whezzie & reader

This was your first sleepover now that you had a close group of friends, the Pogues. You spent the summer hanging out with them, and this weekend, Sarah suggested a sleepover at her house.

cw: +18 MDNI, SMUT, oral (f rec), fingering, angst if you squint, adults skinny dipping, adults getting drunk, adults smoking weed, accidentally flashing tits (lol), overstim if you squint...

word count: 6.1k

note: a bit long but just wait for it😏😏

It would be just the girls, Kiara, Sarah, and you. Of course, her siblings would be there too, since it was their house as well. Whezzie wasn’t someone you guys needed to worry about, but Rafe could be quite challenging.

He had a thing for teasing Sarah's friends, and as you started spending more time with Sarah, he began to bother you as well.

His behavior was sometimes hard to handle, especially since his stupidly handsome face could drown out all your reasonable thoughts.

His horrible attitude was a red flag with legs. But deep down in you, you were down for him. You just needed a little something to accept it.

As you arrived, Sarah hugged you and helped you gather your stuff to her room, while Kiara and Whezzie were in the kitchen. Sarah's room was beside Rafes's, so this would probably be a long night.

You guys made your way downstairs and started helping Kiara, and Whezzie made the snacks for the night, which consisted of a lot of chips, sour candies, and juice, but not a normal one.

“Now close your eyes, child.” Sarah said jokingly to Whezzie.

“How funny.” She answered, faking a smile. Since Whezzie was the only minor now, Sarah teased her, also not forgetting that one time she got drunk with Topper, and it was a mess, even if they would allow her to drink without snitch, she wanted nothing more to do with it.

Sarah got 2 bottles out of a drawer, a vodka and a sparkling wine. This was their first summer drinking (legally), which has kept them all excited about it.

You and Kiara got a big bowl and added pineapple, strawberries, watermelon, peach, lime, and blueberries. Whezzie poured the cranberry juice, and Sarah finally added the ice cubes, vodka, and sparkling wine.

“So... who's thirsty?” Kiara asked, and everyone started pouring into their glasses.

“Wuhh... that's- that's insane.” You said closing your eyes and laughing at the flavor, it was so good and strong. Perfect.

Sarah and Kiara kept drinking and drinking, as the drink got into them, they started to get a bit clumsy and laugh at everything.

Cleaning the kitchen. Kiara danced while setting up the music. “Yup... this is the one girls” she said as My humps by Black Eyed Peas started playing. The three of you started to laugh at Kiara dancing and acting out the song. “Come on, girls, don't leave me here alone.”

The song kept playing, and the dance kept getting ridiculous but funny, and the rap part was coming, you had no idea, but this song was their song. They started a sing/dance along thing.

“And mix your milk.” Kiara was pointing to Sarah, and Sarah to herself.

The next line. “With my Coco Puffs,” Kiara was now pointing to herself and Sarah, to Kiara, noticing them getting way too close, jokingly flirting. “Milky, milky Coco.” You couldn't help but burst out laughing and spit out your drink at getting the meaning of the lines.

“Oh gosh.” Whezzie covered her eyes and poured herself a bit of cranberry juice with a lime, and she called it a day, leaving the girls and your drunk selves alone.

Once the kitchen was clean, the music kept playing. You got tipsier, and you guys decided to make the dinner, pizzas, easy isn't? You have to make the dough, add some toppings, 15 minutes in the oven, and it was done, well, that took you all so long, and with how spent you were it took even more, the house was full of big laughs, and screams.

You were now against the kitchen counter, watching the kitchen mess again, getting a bit out of the state of happiness, excitement, and drunkenness you were in, with flour all over the counters and your hands and theirs, you appreciated the use of aprons.

Suddenly, you felt a new presence in the room.

“Oh, Sarah, you are so screwed.” He laughed, eating some of your fruit. You turned to look at him and rolled your eyes. Kiara was now hitting his hand, stopping him from eating more of your stuff.

“We are cleaning all this, what do you want?” Sarah asked his brother with a sigh.

“Relax, sis, I'm just spending time in my home. Am I prohibited from doing so?” You laughed with a scoff. He was impossible.

He looked at you with a sideways grin, you swallowed and turned quickly to look at the pizza in the oven. They saw and got confused, but it was quickly brushed aside by Rafe’s next action. “Well, I was just coming to get some water and food. I'm human, too. I have to eat.”

Sarah knew he did nothing without a hidden intention. “Make it quick.” She added, and he elevated his hands, acting innocent.

He made his way to the refrigerator, gathered his food, and was about to leave when he settled his stuff at the counter beside you. They got confused, and you did too. He looked at you in the eyes and got closer. You were in shock. What was he doing? In a normal situation, not being drunk, at the moment he got closer than 1 arm from you, you would have gotten out of there so quickly, but here he was now, at mere centimeters from your face, his hand got closer, and he cleaned your nose with his thumb, since it was covered with flour.

“I don't wish our parents to get the wrong idea out of you.” he said with a smirk as the flour simulated another thing. You all knew his past and relapses, so him, making a joke out of it wasn't new. He looked behind you at Kiara and Sarah, smiled playfully, and left the kitchen.

“What the hell was that about?” Kiara was the first one to talk. You turned to look at them, an unreadable face on you. Sarah looked startled as well. “That was gross.”

You bite your lip, without even thinking about it.

“Shit.” Kiara looked at Sarah. “She's into him.”

You were about to protest. “Wh-”

Sarah covered her mouth. "She is." Sarah laughed but also looked disgusted.

"What? What are-" You tried to fight it.

Kiara kept laughing, and you couldn't help but do so too. "Stop, please, oh gosh... It just got me by surprise, that's all, stop it." They were not buying it, they saw you, looking up at him, swallowing when his eyes lingered on yours.

"Just, don't do anything gross while I'm looking, I would probably vomit." Sarah added, now getting close to the oven to get the pizza out.

"I promise you nothing is happening." you said, helping her get the pizzas out.

"We'll see," she smiled, and you settled the pizzas on the counter.

"We'll see." Kiara backed her up. And you, annoyed, rolled your eyes and started drinking again.

"Let's forget about it, can we?"

Kiara nodded, but then added, just for the sake of teasing. "Can you tho?" They were impossible, you thought.

You ate dinner and were so full, so you decided to get changed into your pajamas.

Upstairs, you changed and settled your beds on the floor, with lots of sheets, blankets, and pillows.

Some funny face masks later, and it was already 2 am.

You guys started to get sleepy, so Sarah proposed something. "Quick, swimsuits!"

Kiara got up so quickly. "YES."

You were confused and a bit sleepy. "What?"

"We are going to swim." They got you up quickly and started removing their pajamas, putting on their swimsuits.

"At this hour? Isn't that like... dangerous?"

Sarah giggled, "That's the thing, silly." You were not sure, but you started to change too.

"We are going to be fine, promise, we have done it plenty of times." Sarah nodded at Kiara’s statement.

Outside, it wasn't as hot as in the afternoon, but it wasn't freezing either. You made your way out to the dock, it was pretty quiet at this hour, and also dark. If it weren't for the little string of lights, it would probably be too dark to see.

"Here I go!!" Kiara yelled and was the first to jump into the water. You guys laughed and reminded her to keep it quiet. Then it was you. And finally, Sarah, who screamed the most.

"What was that?" Kiara asked, laughing.

"It sounded like Jason was getting you." You joked, and everyone laughed. But then you got actually scared by your own joke and words. "Shit, this is exactly how horror movies start and what they warn you about. I don't know if this is a good idea anymore." You said that, as your way of swimming got erratic.

Kiara giggled and got close, "If it is like that, then he is underwater, you know? watching closely... let's put on a show."

Kiara gave Sarah a smirk, and she knew what she was talking about. You had no idea.

"Let's do that.... Yeah..." Sarah got closer to the dock as she undid the strips of her swimsuit, leaving her completely naked underwater. Kiara did the same, and you were laughing. Completely shaken out of the scary moment you got yourself into, they were expectant.

"Guess we will give him the best show." you said as you undid your own swimsuit and threw it up to the dock just like them. You kept laughing with them as the conversations went on, JJ and Kiara updates on their relationship, John B, as the best boyfriend ever, or Sarah said so, annoying parents...

You weren't nervous anymore, even though it was the first time you skinny dipped.

"Now... how am I supposed to go outside..." Kiara said. You guys laughed.

"Someone's gonna have to make the sacrifice and get out of the water, naked." Sarah said, as if it were now a challenge.

"NOT IT!" Kiara yelled.

"NOT IT!" Sarah continued, and you moved your head quickly, looking at her as if betrayed.

"That's literally not FAIR..." you said, drowning yourself. Then coming back to the surface. "Fine, I'll do it."

After some deep breaths, you rushed out of the water. It was as if the girls were teenagers, they couldn't stop giggling and cheering at you, actually doing it. You guys clearly still were.

You got their swimsuits and quickly threw them to them.

You started dressing, and just before putting the top on. You heard steps, quickly turned, and he was there.

You screamed and quickly tried to cover your exposed breasts. Rafe just giggled and turned around to the stars, or so it seemed, waiting for you to get the top up. You couldn't believe it, you flashed him. YOU FLASHED RAFE CAMERON, you were wishing for Jason to come and end it all for you.

"WHAT THE HELL, RAFE?" You protested, now fully dressed, getting close to him, as the girls got out of the water, now dressed.

"Were you spying on us? What is wrong with you?" You got closer and closer, but he was laughing? You couldn't believe it. "Answer me!!" you pushed him now,.

"Hey, hey, relax, I was not, I just, I heard screams a while ago, and then I heard complete silence, and you weren't in the house, I was just checking that the girls under my care aren't dead."

You rolled your eyes. That was a ridiculous excuse.

"We aren't kids. Thank you." Sarah said, covering herself with a towel.

You were still staring in disbelief at him.

"Yeah, I can see that." He said with a little smirk, looking you in the eye. You got mad as hell.

"You are an idiot." And without thinking twice, you pushed him hard enough for him to fall off the dock. And quickly went back to the house.

You were embarrassed, mad, and now completely sober. You knew getting drunk after something like this wasn't the best, thinking about the future, but right now it felt necessary.

So you went straight to the kitchen, dripping all the way through the house, and attempted to empty the bottle of vodka, if it wasn't for Kiara.

"Hey, hey, hold it there, girl, you are gonna get sick." She said, removing the bottle. You rolled your eyes.

"I'm fine, I just want to party, let's keep it going." You said, obviously tired and embarrassed by what happened. “Come on, Kie, we are supposed to be up till sunsire." You grabbed a cup, poured some of the funny juice you made earlier, and drank from it, and Kiara just looked.

Sarah then came along. "Oh gosh, he is pissed, but he deserved it. I'm sorry, he is a dick, I'm sorry.... He was totally spying on us, and I'm sorry for making you do that, and him, watching, I'll do whatever to make you feel-" Sarah kept apologizing, but you stopped her mid apology. "

“Let's... Let's forget it, can we? And keep this party? I need to forget, make me forget girls." You said, now hiding your red face between the counter and your hands.

They looked unsure but nodded and started drinking with you.

Another few laughs, and somehow you ended up in Sarah's room.

"Window, window!" Kiara said, then opened the window and went out...

"Shit, Kiara, you are gonna fall." Sarah giggled and dragged herself there.

"No, if I have, if I have you guys to hold me." She went completely out of the window, and you followed them. You peeked your head out and saw Kiara trying to light up a joint. You needed that.

"Oh, so you were hiding the very best till the end, right?" Sarah helped you get out of the room and join them.

Kiara passed the joint, and you guys started smoking and instantly felt that relaxed feeling. You were now totally lying on the ceiling, looking at the stars, Sarah faintly telling a story about a star, and how that story got her to lose her virginity with John B.

We laughed, but for her, it was pretty serious, she still laughed with us.

"Wait. So... The Kook... princess... is no longer... pure?" Kiara said jokingly and mockingly. "You little SLUT!" She teased, and Sarah laughed out loud.

You started fidgeting about the topic, even though you wanted to get it out of your mind. Tonight was the first time a guy ever saw you, as you were brought into the world. Not ANY GUY, but the guy you secretly liked, you were dying, not a single amount of alcohol or weed could make you forget.

You sighed and whined all of a sudden, about to scream, but you controlled yourself. Cutting in the conversation Kie and Sarah were having.

"That was so embarrassing, I mean, I mean you guys teased me about getting nervous of him, about him getting close, about me and him, and then THAT, HAD TO HAPPEN, I had to flash him my tits!"

It sounded ridiculous, maybe it was the weed, but you just started to laugh out loud. Hiding your face in your hands. The girls laughed too.

"Just think about how.... think about..." Kiara was trying to think of something to say. "Just think of how many pairs of tits he has seen, I bet he will forget them too-"

Sarah hit her in the arm. "Don't say that" She rolled her eyes at her.

"Don't listen to her, don't think about that," Sarah added while resting her hand on your arm. "He may be a dick, and look all dangerous and casanova, but here, between us, i'm telling you, he has never gone further then a kiss, and he told me, once, actually, every time he gets wasted, he comes and complains about it with me, here in this place, many times, he has confessed how scared of intimacy he is, how ridiculous he feels for not being able to hold eye contact with a girl, how much disgust he feels when a girl tries more than a makeout session, not for them, for him, for not being able to connect, or commit." That was a BIG ASS confession.

"Just don't, ever say this. He trusted me, and we are not the best friends, but he is still my brother, and I love him." You nodded.

"So I promise you, he was and is, as startled and embarrassed as you, and I'm sure he actually regrets it. When you ran to the house, and he got out of the water, he was pissed, but not at you, at him, for getting in the way and making you uncomfortable. He gave me his apologies, and he actually looked regretful..."

You were shocked, just as Kiara. "Shit, this is the most I've heard of him having feelings." Kiara joined the conversation again, Sarah looked at her and just scoffed.

"He does, and I'm pretty sure he has them for you." She looked at you, but really looked at you, she was definitely telling the truth. Nothing like a child or a drunk person to tell the truth.

After that intimate, deep talk, you guys made your way inside, Sarah and Kiara instantly falling asleep, as they dropped their bodies to the millions of pillows you settled before, you chuckled at them giving up the idea to watch the sunrise, still thinking about what happened, and without a way to get asleep like them, you made your way to the kitchen, still a mess, so you decided to clean a bit.

Trying to make little noise, you were slowly moving in there, thinking, replying moments, not only tonight but every single interaction with Rafe, his eyes, his teasing actions, his smirks, every single one just as electric as the other, oh gosh what were you thinking, falling for Rafe Cameron, but maybe, perhaps, there was more of him than that name and now known fake reputation...

After finishing, you decided to go to the living room to check the aftermath and maybe clean some there too, but then you noticed something different in those cushions.

Him, and the funny juice, you noticed it was completely emptied, you sighed, he was here drinking all this while you were with the girls upstairs, you weren't even mad but worried, something definitely was keeping him awake, just like you before.

You got close and sit not that close but still, just a bit, he was breathing, okay.

He actually, now that you think about it, this is the most peaceful you have seen him, he, he kinda has a smile on him, and looks, cute.

You stared, a bit more than you should, snapped out of it, and started cleaning, trying not to make noise and waking him up. You wanted to give him his peace.

Just the bowl of the juice left to take, you got close, and grabbed, turning around to take it to the kitchen.

But something grabbed your wrist, you jolted and almost screamed, quickly turned, and he was opening his eyes, the light causing his eyes to squint, "Shit, sorry, you scared me..." you confessed, almost in a whisper.

He chuckled a bit, still waking up, keeping his hand on your wrist, was he rubbing it? Maybe you were imagining… You were not.

"I'm sorry." he said, way too serious to be saying sorry for scaring me. You nodded and looked at him with an upside down smile.

"Not only for this, everything, tonight, I promise, I wasn't trying to be a creep, and every other time, I've been a dick, or..."

You completed his phrase, now realizing some tension... "An idiot?" He cracked up and let go of your hand to fix his hair. You sat next to him, as if a major force dragged you.

"Yeah, that, I guess I've been like that too..." He grinned again and then, now that his eyes were completely open, he looked at you, really looked at you, no games, no teasing, you thought you saw him, for the very first time, and it turned your stomach, maybe it was all the things you took before, were making effect and messing with your body, but you saw him differently now.

He saw you staring, but he only smiled, and with one hand, he placed a strand of hair behind your ear. Your cheeks burned now.

"See, I'm not who you think I am." You listened carefully. "Well, or other think I am, I accept, my weird behavior is, weird..."

You realized he still had a little problem forming words, the alcohol still had an effect, or the fact that he woke up, so you chuckled. He did too, and shook his head as if scrambling his ideas.

“I just wanted you to know that... Yeah, I mean, you make me feel like I can be more than what they know or think..." You were in shock. Was he serious? Again, nothing like a child or a drunk person to tell the truth. But he wasn't drunk anymore.

"I just, the very first time I saw you, hanging with Sarah, I thought you were gonna be one of her moddy friends, who think I'm just an annoying clown, and yeah, I may be, but I'm not the whole circus, right?"

You laughed. "Yeah, I don't see you as an equilibrist." referring to you pushing him easily at the dock. He laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, exactly, I'm unstable, and I guess, once I started teasing and you answered differently, my brain had a short circuit, and I realized I don't have to follow the same recipe, or believe the narrative I created in my head about my role in this so called life. As a resume, and I'm sorry for keeping you awake now, you must be exhausted." You shake your head.

"Don't, keep going." One of your hands now rested on his at the couch, it felt natural. He smiled and kept talking.

"Well, I just, you make me want to be me, not the me I created and perform, not the me and monster they think I am, but me, the me of your eyes." You were shocked by this whole confession.

"I want this, us, well, if there's an us, and you feel the same-" You stopped him.

"I do." You nodded, and he couldn't help but grab a cushion and use it to cover his face. You removed it, now closer to him, your eyes connected again.

And then it happened, he kissed you. It wasn't a ferocious kiss. It was not rushed.

But it wasn't slow and shy. It was calm and expectant, passionate, as if every built moment brought this perfect moment to fruition.

He went for more, and you let him, his hand in one side of your face, brushing your cheek with his thumb, and the other caressing the nape of your neck.

Your hands linger on his shoulders and neck, moving up to caress and trace his jaw. His tongue asked for permission, and you accepted, mapping you.

You got a better taste of him, or the juice you drank earlier, and he did too, as if reading your mind he then said, "Good juice..." and you nodded, kissing him again, his breathing getting heavier, his hand that was in your face now falling to your waist, caressing, and his thumb dancing lower in your hip bone, you completely wrapped your arms around his neck and he lowered you on the couch, he pulled out of the kiss to breath, but his eyes looked past you, then he smiled.

"Wait, come with me." He got quickly up off the couch. And you followed without any questioning, but a bit curious, you passed Sarah's room.

He opened the door to his, you hesitated a bit, but he looked for the first time, trustful, so you grabbed his hand and got inside, he opened the window and got out, bringing you with him, then you saw it, the sunrise, almost there.

You smiled and grabbed a seat beside him. "I bet it's gonna be beautiful."

He nodded, "I know she is." He said, looking at you again, the almost gold color of the sun kissing your face, he grabbed your face again and kissed you, it was better than any drink you could've taken to forget or any drug he ever took to make the pain fade away.

Your mouths parted and reconnected, your hands caressing his chest.

He bit your lip, generating a beautiful sound from you. He got crazy, his hand now caressing the curve in your back, kissing your jaw, making you see stars, oh, the sun, you saw it as he kissed your neck, wet traces from his lips, you shiver as the cold breeze of the morning hit the wet spots, you patted on his back.

"The sun- the sunrise..." You smiled and he stopped his ministrations on your neck to appreciate it with you.

His eyes looked so beautiful under this light, his skin bathed in this perfect gold, you couldn't help but bite your lip at the precious sight of him.

A “Thank you.” leaves your lips... He looked back at you, one eye closed for the light of the sun, a bit confused.

“Thank you for letting me see you. The real, you...” He smiled and brought your lips together again, his body getting closer, hovering over yours, one of his legs now between yours, the pressure making your body weak and melt.

You were making soft noises, he was getting addicted to them, so he tried to get there more often out of you, a trace on your uncovered stomach, a slight nibble on your lower lip, his hips rolling into you.

You were about to lose it when you heard a voice completely out of nowhere, and something was thrown at him, a plushie?

“Get a room, for God's sake.” Kie talked on the other side of the roof, Sarah giggling beside her.

You covered your face with your hands, and Rafe laughed. “Since when have you been watching?”

Sarah answered. “Enough to know you should get a room and me to wash my eyes with chlorine.”

You laughed, and Rafe got you up from the position you were in. He got inside first.

You looked at the girls, and they started acting out some backshots..?, Kie making like she was riding Sarah, a cowboy gesture, and Sarah kept bumping into her, acting out suggestive faces. You laughed but still flipped them off.

You grabbed Rafe hand and got inside, you now got time and enough light to look carefully at his room, memories of him, as a kid, a baseball team, him and Sarah, middle school graduation, as well as high school.

You felt his eyes on you and turned around to look at him. "I promised Sarah she wouldn't see anything, or us, doing anything..."

Rafe thought about it and smirked. “So... you've thought about us doing things...” You roll your eyes.

“Don't get so big in your head. She just caught a vibe and asked to never see anything...”

He got closer, his hands resting on your hips, his lips now brushing your neck, close to your ear. “I don't see her in here...”

You prevent yourself from falling by grabbing his shirt. “Guess she isn't...” You faintly said.

“Well then, don't mind if I...” He started to walk you backwards, but you didn't stop him, the back of your knees touching the soft blankets of his bed, a wide bed you thought about before.

He carefully kissed your neck and jaw, tossed you onto the bed, followed by his body, that he didn't entirely positioned over yours, not wanting to crush you. Still, there's a building pressure that is making you crazy, the morning is getting warmer, or it was just the heat of your bodies.

He kept kissing your lips, to your neck and upper chest, his lips working wonders on you, his hands caressing the leg you got up on the bed, feather touches that made you ache for more.

Then he looked at you, looking for an unsure look or something that would make him stop, but all he saw was you, needing more.

“Can I?” He asked, touching the buttons of your pajama top. You nodded, and he smiled, carefully kissing as he unbuttoned. No bra. He was having the time of his life.

As he unbuttoned the last button just below your belly button, his hands removed the rest of the shirt out of his way, and you sat up a bit, helping him get it out of your body.

He then went and devoured your lips once again, they were both probably all swollen by now, his were now colored a pretty pink.

He then slowly cupped one of your breasts, they fit on his hands and that made you weak.

A faded sound, out of you, followed by a groan out of him, this was as far as he had gone, and actually, you too, this was your very first time, everything.

He brought his mouth closer to your breasts and started kissing, biting slightly, a new sensation that had you bolting and digging your nails into his gorgeous, soft hair.

You were drunk on him. He then, as if he were a kitten, started to give flat licks to your nipples.

Making the heat between your legs worse, your moth opened and you tried to control your breathing.

He started to suck on it, and your hands reached to his back, attempting to bring his shirt up and remove it, you had to feel more of him, he helped you removed it and he pressed his chest against yours, it was as warm as the summer sun, making you smile at the sensation, he rolled his hips for more friction, he was as hard as a rock, and you could feel it between your legs, he made his way down your stomach, kissing here and there, till he was kissing your hip bone, teasing the hem of your pajamas shorts, you looked at him, wanting more, needing more, he looked at you asking.

“Please...” was the only thing leaving your lips, he grabbed the hem of your pajama shorts, and slowly brought them down, kissing your legs as they made their way off you along with your panties.

He then grabs your ankles and pulls your legs to the edge of the bed. There, he crouches slightly and folds your legs over his shoulders. The contact being magical, his shoulders so soft you thought, your legs so smooth he did.

Looking up at you, his eyes intense and his pupils so grown, you feel goosebumps trickling over your skin. He waits for any kind of uncertainty from you, but you meet his gaze, your hands reaching out to grab his. He slips his fingers between your hands and holds your hands, braced on your stomach, the touch strong and reassuring.

Rafe gives you one more smile, then he dips his face between your legs. You gasp loudly when you feel his warm tongue and hot breath against your folds, his cheeks teasing your inner thighs, as you instinctively try to close them.

It's when he starts sucking gently on your clit that you throw your head back with a loud moan. Holding you as you twitch, he continues, his mouth exploring every inch of you. You can't help but arch your back, your hands going to his hair. “Oh- Fuck- Rafe...” the sound higher and needier than you intended.

You feel it, building deep in your body, provoked by every lick, every kiss, every nibble and suck, whatever he does, it works.

“You taste amazing...” He stated as you squeezed his pretty blonde hair, the vibration making it better, convulsing on the bed, your legs kicking helplessly, you gasp, freeze, muscles tightening, before it all breaks loose and washes over your like a wave, probably the greatest wave you have surfed in your whole life living in this island, warm and soothing, rolling from the top of your head all the way into your now curling toes. He keeps licking at you gently as your ears thrum and your heart thunders, your whole body trembling.

You are melting in his hold, too blissed out to notice him pushing you up the bed so he can kneel on it as well. He's arranging you with care, he slides his hands up your torso, back to cup your breasts.

His touch giving them enough pressure that you can feel it through the white noise surrounding you, he leans over, his mouth slowly making its way up your body, kissing along your hipbones, tongue licking stripes around your belly button, higher and higher he goes, until he removes his hands and closes his lips around your left nipple, hard and aching from his intense attention.

You sighed, gasped, and moaned as he flicked his tongue around it, teasing his teeth against your soft flesh. He shifts beside you, one hand slipping up to caress your head, pushing a strand of hair out of your sweat slick forehead.

You tried to look at him, meeting his warm gaze through blurry eyes, you smiled nonetheless, watching him switch from your left to your right breast, repeating his ministrations.

Suddenly, you feel a light pressure, a warm grip as he curls his other hand around your sex, fingers pushing insistently between your puffy folds.

A gasping mewl escapes you when he pokes his middle finger against your hole, teasing lightly. You enjoy it, the warmth flowing through you, the many different sensations he creates all over your body are just too much to focus on just one.

Your hips buck almost automatically when he slips his digit deeper, following the natural curve of your channel, pushing in and out lightly, your cunt clenching around him.

Your breath hitches when he curls it just right, passing by that special spot with every pull back, and he seems to watch and enjoy you and your reactions, because he soon removes his finger only to replace it with two.

The stretch is noticeable but welcome, and you moan softly when he pushes deeper, your body shifting to accommodate the intrusion.

He keeps fingering you, quickening his pace, digits bending, exploring your tight warmth with an eagerness that's only mirrored by his hungry mouth devouring your breasts.

He pushes his fingers in and out of your fluttering cunt, and you feel the rest of your body shaking, thighs twitching, toes curling, your hands digging into the sheets and his shoulder.

When you come again, you are crying out louder, a sudden rush crashing through your convulsing body, a burning need, and no means to stop it.

“Oh god, Rafe, Rafe, I-I can't... please-” You moaned, and then you feel it as your orgasm rolls over you with a force you haven't expected, a wetness, bursting out of you, making the squelching sounds of his fingering even louder.

And while you'll still be highly mortified to see the wet sheets and blankets later, in the moment, right now, you don't care. It feels too good to let go like that, you just ride the wave instead of fighting it.

Sweat covers your whole body, you feel light and heavy at the same time, exhausted and thrilled, and yet you keep shaking, and he keeps working on you no matter what.

His hand has left your face, only to hold down your hip as he continues to push his fingers deep into your convulsing cunt, and you feel that wave building up again, the heat so hot inside of you, gathering low, filling you up, until... “Oh Rafe!” you whine breathlessly as yet another orgasm pulses out of you, unable to stop the reactions of your body.

Now he pulls his digits out and instead clamps his mouth to your clenching hole, his tongue eager to lick up whatever wetness you produced. Heat crashes through you, a bit of shame at the thought, that quickly faded away through the longer he sucks on you, licking up and down your slit, his hot exhales sounding just as breathless as yours. You can't believe this, it's like you been asleep all your entire life till this very moment.

A deep sigh escapes your mouth as you throw your head back in exhaustion, staring at the ceiling, trying to ease your breathing, a dumb little grin on your face.

He's crawling over you, his body warm against yours, before he rolls onto his side and pulls you with him, strong arms closing around your shaking form. His wet lips find your forehead.

“My turn.” You said, grabbing the hem of his pants. He smirked and tugged you close for another kiss.

i may write part 2... should i? 😏 let me know if there's any mistakes or i'm missing a tag !!

[hunilvs]

i cant wait for summer . ݁₊ ⊹ 🐚 ݁

I can't wait for summer to arrive!! To pass the time, I’m planning to start a series of fics to keep me busy until then. It might take some time, but I’ll try to be consistent. The fics will cover different summer related topics with various characters from Outer Banks because there's nothing more summer than that show LOL Also, there will be 21, so till summer, I will probably be posting every 5 days. Here's the list of fics.

I can't wait for:

-> sleepovers. 6.1k words, rafe cameron x female reader🧸🫐

-> bonfires. 4.8k words, jj maybank x female reader 🪵🎇

-> bathing suits. 3.7k words, jj maybank x female reader 👙💞

-> freckles 2.6k words, sarah cameron x female reader 🍓🧊

[hunilvs]

is it aching?

clark kent x female reader

Clark. How good he is, how gentle, he always takes care of you, even when you don’t say a word, when you don’t ask for it. And now you can’t stop wanting/needing to give him something back. Anything. Everything.

cw: +18 MDNI, FLUFF, SMUT, hand job, edging (if you squint??) accidental facial/c*m shot, reader is on her period (no period sex, but there’s a vibe 👀) semi-public indecency (office) praise, curses, pet names: hun, ma'am (?) fluff, he is a sweetheart and they can't stop giggling... established relationship

word count: 2k

note: THIS IS MY FIRST EVER FIC on Tumblr after years of retirement from wattpad. So please let me know if I suck LOL no but let me know if there's any mistakes 😭 because English is not my first language… but I do dominate it a bit thank you 💞 Also let me know if I'm missing a tag (cw)

A slow Monday morning at the Daily Planet, a torture compared to the people having the time of their lives at their summer vacations. Clark found himself trapped between the crystal-clear walls of the temporary "private" office he was assigned.

The planet decided to make some renovations. Perfect timing, as nothing much happens the first 2 weeks of summer. Most people were on vacation, which made for the perfect boring scenario, at least for him. His friends weren't there, and the only person that mattered in this place was trapped 3 offices away from him.

Writing some emails to the photographers of the paper, Clark hurried to finish his coffee, with the intention of getting out of the Lex Luthor prison wannabe, and getting a new one near his lover's office. He holds the illusion that her pretty eyes will illuminate the room, or that that smile of hers will makes him feel better than flying, and that a little chat...

For him, any interaction would be appreciated.

He took a last sip and went out to the communal coffee station. He walked past her office, but she wasn't there. He felt disappointed and worried. He kept looking at the other offices, maybe she was checking some facts or arranging interviews, but she wasn't there. Now he was smiling politely and awkwardly when the people in the offices saw him staring.

He tried to shake that weird felling of something really bad happening "She is fine, yeah, Why wouldn't she?" he thought, it wasn’t the first time he worried for nothing, she is the most precious thing in this world, his world, so every time he had no eyes on her, he couldn’t help it but get worried, the last time he took his worried at the next level, he ruined his own birthday party. But no celebrations were close.

While the machine kept pouring coffee, he checked her socials to see if she was online, maybe she had taken her lunch sooner, but why without him? He got even more worried when he didn’t saw her online in any of her socials, his phone was now full with them, and the most recent city news, he was probably exaggerating and doing way too much when he could probably text her but he knew better not to bother her with his worries, he is nervous about her, and always will.

She silently loved that, but she would never confess it out loud, how seeing him get so miserable for her was one of her guilty pleasures.

Back at his office, 10 minutes passed. Yes, he was worried for 10 minutes without knowing about her, so he decided to text her before resorting to a major and extreme way to try and find her (by using his ability to look through the walls).

Clark: Hi love, is everything okay? You aren't in your office, so just checking!!

…

2 minutes without an answer, and he thought the worst, she was in danger, probably at the top of a cliff with thousands of explosives, or about to be dropped in a tank of chemicals. He tried to calm himself and adjust in his chair, but the sweat broke out, and his leg started shaking.

It was incredible, his stress over threats to the entire humankind felt minimal compared to the only thought of losing her.

Then she texted.

Yes ma’am: Yes, I'm actually not feeling quite well.

I knew it. He thought as he stood up and immediately went to the door.

Clark: Where are you?

Yes ma’am: I didn't mean to alarm you clark, I’m fine, it's just girl stuff…

He arched an eyebrow.

Clark: Okay, where are you? I want to help.

He waited at his office door impatiently.

She bit her lip. Of course, he would offer his help; he always does. He is always there. All she can think about is all the times he has been helpful this past weekend and how she has not been able to give him proper thanks. In the bathroom, where she was hiding, she was fighting demons, a sudden heat, all her body was burning, and her thighs aching. She needed him. But how? How right now? In her state? At work?

Yes ma’am: I need you to wait for me at your office.

He couldn't scratch that itch; something was not right. The “girl stuff” clicked in his head like her being on her period, but why would she need him? And, in his office? And, not him being needed somewhere else? This has happened before, her forgetting a tampon and him bringing it. This was different.

He came back to his chair, then he realized everyone, or the few who were there looked at him, acting weird, he got up again, smiled awkwardly and waved, closed the curtains and just waited for her, he was just about to use his see trough walls, but then she opened the glass door, smiling wide like if nothing had happened. Like if she hadn’t been pressing her legs, trying to erase the memories of the good days (1 week ago) when both of them were sharing a bed, his hand and fingers deep between her legs his mouth in her neck, or that time he helped her assemble that new couch where they would spend the next hours eating each othe-

All those things, all those memories, and all those hormones were too much, she thought she was being punished for having such a great hot boyfriend. She knew better, it was too good to be true.

He went up instantly. “Hey hun, what is happening? You really have me worried… I…” he said, fixing his glasses and looking at her carefully, almost examining that she were okay, no scratches, no tears, she seemed fine...

“You, Clark. You are happening, I mean…” She laughed and placed her knuckles on her mouth.

“Me? I...“ He was confused, of course. Was she laughing? And... he was happening? What was this?

She was still trying not to lose it, not to get instantly on her knees and beg for it. Her little laugh and in-between serious face had him worried.

“Not you. It’s me. it’s- Clark…” Too complicated to explain with words.

Before he could say anything more, he felt her warm lips against his. COFFEE. Of course, his kisses taste like coffee and caramel. She thought.

He grabbed her waist to prevent him to fall backwards, a simple, little touch, and she panted against his mouth, he was either way responding to the kiss… another laugh… and he still had no idea what was happening, but sure he wasn’t complaining.

A few more seconds, and she was lacking oxygen.“Of all the lives you’ve saved, I might be the most grateful… and right now, the most eager to show it.” He understands now. Now that her hands are on the hem of his pants, pushing him backwards, close to his face, looking at him right in the eyes, he just noticed there, the sweat in her neck, her not properly buttoned shirt, her messy hair, not the same he remembers her doing in the morning, the pleading look in her eyes. She was dying for it. But of course, the time and place were not right, they were at work, and they still had long hours ahead until getting home, until he could stop hiding behind those glasses, until he could praise and take care of her needy, aching body.

He understood, he didn’t stop her, he tried to blame it on her hormones, but he knew, deep down, it had nothing to do with it, and he was capable of thinking straight for them both, even though this seemed pretty reasonable for him too.

The intensity of the kiss grew and now his hands were around her neck, it was still so shocking how they wrapped perfectly around her without any choking problem… He smelled her perfume and bit slightly at the lobe of her ear. Forcing her to grasp her nails around his arms and bury her face on his chest to muffle the out loud sound she would have made.

With a little laugh, she pushed him slightly, guiding him to his chair, giggling at the little moment he made her have, making sure the curtains of the office were down, her hands started to touch his curls, his hands went to her thighs, trying to get her close and to sit on his lap.

“No, Clark.” She shook her head while removing his hands from her thighs. He pouted.

His hand rested on her lower stomach, his hand big enough to cover it all. His thumb reaching a bit lower, teasing the hem of her pants, “Let me take care of you, hun. Is it aching?"

“Not having you inside? Yes…” he smiled and couldn’t hold a laugh…

"You know I'm not afraid to get a little messy when it comes to you, hun, make the call and I'll..." He said looking up at her teasing her thighs again, his thumb way too close to her core... She bites her lip and lets out a sigh with a laugh.

"Home, at home... now let me... please..." She said, lowering herself so quickly you would have thought her knees failed her to support her weight, but she was just so eager.

"Dammit... hun... if you... If you keep acting like that..." he said, breathing heavily as her hands palmed his bulge, already removing his belt and unzipping his pants... But he stopped her a bit, bringing her face close to his...

"You are wild... and I love you..." she smiled and gave him a little kiss... before going back to work him out...

"I love you” She whispered while bringing his thick length out, her thumb now teasing his tip. He jolted and brought his hips up while closing his eyes and holding back a moan. She giggled and wrapped her fingers around him. She loved this part: when he would whisper praises or curses, his neck would get sweaty, his pupils would dilate. "Fuck... That's- I- I can't take it..." A little smirk formed on her face.

"So hot in here, isn't it?" She was now with her free hand unbuttoning his white shirt. He smiled and nodded, not being able to think straight anymore as she kept stroking him. "You are such- Fuck- a tease..."

His chest was exposed, and she couldn't help but bring her mouth to his abs, little kisses, lower and lower, one hand working his growing length and the other tracing little circles on his stomach. He was a panting and groaning mess. "Hun- I... Fuck..." He had to keep his hands busy, preventing him from making a loud noise with his sudden movements, so he grabbed her hair in a ponytail.

"Remember, we are not alone..." she said, now kissing his tip before going in for a kitten lick. He was far too gone, so close. She had barely even done anything, the grip on her hair making the ache between her legs worse, the pure sounds of her work were enough to get him to the edge, without a warning, a big load of his cum. "hun- i... fuck... i... I couldn't... I couldn't control it... I'm sorry... fuck... your face." The sight was obscene and a dream to him, her face covered with his white load, she just smiling and cleaning a bit of the mess, some got in her eye...

"Well, that... was a bit... unexpected..." He was so embarrassed, and she loved him for it. "Am I that good, or have I been depriving you a lot lately?" He laughed, trying to regain his breath. She, without any hesitation, licked the traces of him out of her face and his own length, cleaning him.

"You... You are amazing." She helped him get his clothes fixed. Now, face to face on each side of the desk, with hands resting on the desk as during an interview, he spoke.

"Towels."

"What?" She asked, confused, maybe he got really fried by the handjob she thought.

"We'll use towels." She realized what he was talking about and let out a laugh and her cheeks got red again immediately…

THAT'S ALL I realized I wrote this in a SHE way, not a YOU way 😭😭 but please make it like it's talking about you… I'm just too lazy to change it.... Thank you for reading 💞 I picture Clark leaving the office after all that like this LMFAO