𓂃✍︎ bf!rafe dealing with you squirming during sex . . .
summary: perhaps it was the fact that he was thrusting in a terribly fast and harsh pace, but you just couldnt seem to be able to stay still.
content: smut, dom!rafe with a lot of manhandling + talking you thru it, piv, positions change; missionary to doggystyle.
Both of your weeks ended like every sweet couples' usually do; using the last bits of your staminas just to get a satisfying release that'll clear out your heads from the long, tiring day. The word release, in this case, meaning sex till you're damn near breaking the bedframe.
That night, Rafe was being particularly rough, choosing the missionary position like he always does whenever he felt the desire to be the one 'in charge', placing wet, open-mouthed kisses around your neck while the sound of your moans fills his ear, his favorite melody.
Perhaps it was the fact that he had not only a tiring day but also a somewhat bad one, needing and chasing this satisfaction more than ever with his hips thrusting at a terrifyingly fast pace, practically slamming again and again into you while his fingers were grabbing onto your hips so tight it might even bruise your skin. His hands were a guide to your hips so you too were moving against him.
"Oh fuck... just like that..." he grunted, panting into your ear as he fasten his pace even more, your hips shoved together.
The problem isn't that you didn't like it, oh you fucking enjoyed it. Instead, the problem is the fact that you were a squirmy person, barely able to keep your limbs still as he drives his cock in and out of your pussy rapidly.
Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into his burning skin, only to let go and grip onto the sheets instead, not even knowing what to hold onto anymore. Your back arched, hips stuttering frantically in his hold, making his control on your hips movement a tad difficult, meanwhile your toes curled with your legs restless and your head thrown back over the pillow.
A moan escapes your throat, loud and desperate, "Fu- mm.. fuck!" You gasped, "S-so fast! I... I can't- please!" You pleaded with him, your shaky hands reaching for his wrists to try and pull them off your hips.
"You can, baby... I know you can..." Rafe assured you with ragged breath, his voice incredibly calm for someone who's raging cock is pounding into you, "Shit... stop moving, can you?"
He let out a grunt, patience growing thinner with each movement you made, which then led him to grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them up above your head on the pillow.
With your hands stuck on that position, you could only arch your back and move your legs as the tip of his cock kept on hitting all the right spots to make your toes curl even more. It might just be your favorite feeling in the whole wide world.
"Stop moving around, baby..." Rafe groaned, feeling your tits pressed against his chest due to how much you were arching your back, his ears filled with your desperate, mumbled, and frantic pleas. "I know, I know... You can take it, okay? Just... ah fuck..." He whispered, ragged breath and moans of his own filled your ears.
Yet now with only one hand on your hip, it was harder to guide them to move against his when your just kept on squirming and wriggling, so much that his dick managed to slip out once. Which to Rafe, once was plenty.
Rafe let out another groan, "Goddamnit!" He took his hands off your wrists– only to flip you over onto your stomach, hands guiding your hips to be lift up to provide him with your ass in the air, "Fuck... hold on, baby..." He cooed, as if as a silent apology.
As he thrusted back into you hard and deep, his hands held your wrists behind your back tightly, the slight grin on his face showed how he was assured that now you weren't gonna move as much. Not even gonna be loud, not with your flushed face pressed against the pillow, surely.
"Ra... Rafe..." You managed to moan against the pillow, eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool pooling onto the white pillow case. The position you were in had the least possibility to squirm around, only able to wiggle your fingers.
Rafe just kept on pounding into you, longing to feel those walls squeeze around him and hear the loudest and dirtiest moan leave your swollen lips, to know you were satisfied with the night just as much as he was. And while he's at it, he was still busy holding your wrists together, keeping your roaming hands still from clawing onto him.
JJ’s legs were thrown over yours on the couch, chin on your shoulder as you scroll on your phone. He’d been like this for the past hour, touching you like you’ll disappear if he lets go. “I missed you,” he mumbles, even though he’s been with you since the sun rose this morning. His fingers lazily draw circles on your thigh, rings clinking together when he shifts.
You smile, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m right here, clingwrap.”
JJ ignores that. Then he adds, dead serious, “You’re not allowed to leave me. Ever.”
You scoff. “What about work, Jackson?”
He melts at the sound of it. Jackson. No one else calls him that. Not even his friends. To them, he’s JJ, always has been—loud, reckless, a little unhinged. But to you? He’s Jackson. Soft and warm and real.
He nuzzles into your neck with a small smile. “Say it again.”
“Jackson?” you repeat with a giggle.
A pleased hum leaves his lips. “Mmm. Just like that. Sounds so pretty coming from you.”
“You’re such a weirdo,” you laugh, leaning your head against his.
“I don’t care. No one else gets to say it. Just you. If anyone else calls me Jackson, I’m fighting them.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
JJ pulls back, eyes serious now—like he means it. “I’m not kidding. That’s your name for me. You gave it meaning, you know?” His voice softens, “Jackson didn’t mean anything until you said it.”
You freeze, heart doing flips. “That’s… weirdly poetic for you.”
He grins, a little proud. “I can be deep.”
Then he tugs you until you’re laying on his chest, legs tangled. His hand slides under the back of your hoodie, warm and possessive. “I like when you say it when I’m sleepy,” he murmurs against your temple. “Or mad. Or when you’re all cute and bossy.”
“Jackson, get your hands outta my shirt.”
He gasps. “Hot.”
You swat his chest, and he catches your hand easily, lacing your fingers with his. “Don’t test me, Maybank.”
He makes a face. “Ew. Everyone else calling me Maybank? Normal. You calling me Maybank? Hate it. Feels illegal.”
You laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and Jackson is right there, eyes on you like you hung the damn stars. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. “Seriously though. It’s yours. That name. Jackson. You made it soft.”
You go quiet, your fingers playing with the hem of his sleeve. “I like that,” you admit. “That it’s mine.”
“It’s all yours, babe. I’m all yours.” He kisses you again—slower this time, and you believe he’s yours.
c/w ᝰ.ᐟ fluff!! + pet names (baby, pretty + no y/n) ᢉ𐭩✴︎˚
“…Did she say why?”
You glance up from the dresser drawer you’d been emptying, folding another sweatshirt before setting it carefully into the box between stacks of jeans.
“No.”
The answer hangs there longer than either of you expects. Half the shelves sit empty already, picture frames stacked neatly on the floor beside labeled storage bins.
The pale pink curtains she’d picked out when she was seven still sway softly in the ocean breeze drifting through the cracked balcony door, and one wall is covered in faded rectangles where photos and posters had hung for years before she’d peeled every last one down this morning.
It feels strange looking at it now—like somebody had packed away pieces of her without asking either of you first.
Rafe stands in the middle of the room with one of her hoodies draped over his shoulder, staring after the last box she’d carried down the hall.
“I mean…” he scratches the back of his neck, still looking toward the open bedroom door. “Did she say why she wanted that room so bad?”
You shake your head, climbing up her bookshelf ladder. “No, baby.”
His jaw works once before he nods to himself, looking down at the hoodie in his hands.
“I think she’s just ready.”
He lets out a quiet huff through his nose. “Ready for what?”
“To be thirteen.”
His shoulders sink almost immediately.
“You know…” you continue softly, sliding another pile of books into the next box. “Max moved down the hall when he was thirteen.”
“I know.”
“She probably just wants her own space.”
“I know,” he mumbles, every answer gets quieter than the last. “…Still hurts.”
Rafe kneels down on the floor, arm stretching under the bed, pulling out a box. He wipes a light covering of dust with his palm, Winnie’s Treasures etched across the top in Rafe’s scratchy writing, making his lips draw to the side and his eyes go wide like he already knows he’s close to tears. He doesn’t need another reason to let them slip.
He pulls back one flap, peering inside, then the other. His heart swells and his nose scrunches, his lashes fluttering fast as the memories come flooding back—and some stirring up nothing at all—no recollection of why he’s seeing what he’s seeing. A forgotten memory. And, he can’t decide what hurts the most.
The first thing he reaches for is the little stuffed bunny tucked against one side of the box, once white but softened into a warm cream after years of being dragged through the house by one floppy ear.
Rafe turns it over in his hands, his thumb finding the corner where the fur has been rubbed almost completely raw, worn flat from Winnie brushing it back and forth across the tip of her nose whenever she was tired.
His expression crumples as he stares down at it, remembering how that same ear would disappear beneath her tiny fist while she fought sleep against his chest.
“She wouldn’t go anywhere without this thing,” he murmurs, running his thumb over the bare patch again before carefully setting the bunny beside his knee instead of burying it beneath everything else.
He lifts out a tiny yellow sleeper no bigger than both of his hands, unfolding it carefully, the little feet dangling. The cotton has gone softer after years tucked away in storage, but one tiny milk stain still clings stubbornly near the collar.
His thumb rubs over it without thinking, just like it had in the middle of the night thirteen years earlier when he’d stood over the washer with a toothbrush and some stain remover, convinced if she looked perfectly clean that would somehow convince everyone around him that he had it together—that you weren’t two twenty-year-olds with two babies and not a single clue what you were doing.
A quiet laugh slips through his nose.
You watch him smoothing the fabric flat again, fingertips tracing little wrinkles that had settled over the years, and your chest tightens because he still handles every piece of your children’s lives like they’re made of glass.
“We really had no clue what we were doing,” you whisper, seemingly reading his mind.
“No… We were pretty convincing though,” he chuckles softly.
“We were,” you whisper. “Remember when she had her first cold?”
Rafe hangs his head between his shoulders, chuckling softly. “‘Course I do… Why was that so scary?”
“I remember we finally got her to sleep and we snuck into her room, just to make sure she was breathing.”
“And every twenty minutes after that,” he whispers. “I still check. Can’t help it.”
“I know.”
Rafe folds the sleeper, laying it back into the box again. “…No way.” He slides an old vinyl record free, laughing under his breath before the cover is even visible. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Dust clings to the cardboard sleeve until he wipes it away with the side of his hand, turning it over slowly like he hasn’t seen it in years.
“I couldn’t sing a damn song off this album,” he mumbles, replaying those moments he’d walk circles around the nursery with Winnie tucked against his shoulder, humming softly until she fell asleep.
He pulls the record out of the sleeve, studying the back, each scuff telling a story. His eyes lift to yours for a second, the smile on his lips turning quieter before he slips the record carefully back inside its sleeve.
He reaches into the bottom of the box again and pulls free an old paper envelope. A handful of photographs slide into his palm when he tips it over, the first one stopping him before he can look through the rest.
Max is balanced in Rafe’s arms beside Winnie’s hospital bassinet, dressed in tiny boat shoes and a little polo with his baseball cap turned backward over hair long enough to curl around his ears.
“Look at him,” Rafe whispers. “He was still a baby too.”
“He was,” you say softly, when he turns the picture toward you. “You wouldn’t let anybody cut his hair because you said he wasn’t ready.”
“I wasn’t ready,” he corrects, laughing gently as his eyes move across the picture again.
The laughter slowly fades, leaving him staring at two children who had once fit together inside his arms and now needed bedrooms on opposite ends of a house too big to ever feel full without them.
His features tighten, holding back tears. He flips the next photo and that emotion he’d been fighting finally breaks free, his thumb brushing beneath one eye before the tear can fall any farther.
His girl.
You’re sitting upright in a hospital bed with Winnie tucked against your chest, your hair tangled around your face and your eyes heavy from exhaustion, but you’re smiling down at her.
Rafe’s sitting beside you, one arm curled around your shoulders and his other hand resting over Winnie’s tiny body, but the fear in his younger face is unmistakable now that he knows what he’s looking for.
“I don’t remember this,” he admits, his voice fraying at the edges. “I know I was there. I remember bein’ scared, but I don’t remember this.”
Rafe looks down at the photograph again, his throat working around whatever he can’t quite say.
“Wish I remembered,” he whispers, his words so soft you don’t even catch it.
Rafe sets the last photograph back inside the envelope before sliding everything carefully into the box again. His palm lingers against the lid for another second before a soft creak overhead finally pulls him back into the present.
You’re balanced near the top of the rolling library ladder tucked against Winnie’s built-in bookshelf, one foot planted carefully on the step beneath you while you reach toward the highest shelf.
Rafe is already crossing the room before he really thinks about it—the ladder giving another tiny groan beneath your weight.
His hand settles instinctively against the rail, the other comes to rest against the back of your thigh, brushing once against your leg as though making sure you’re steady.
You look down at him and smile. Your stomach sinks, your heart breaking for him because his blue eyes are shimmering with unfallen tears, reddened slightly from trying to keep it together. Your bottom lip juts out slightly. You can’t help it. A chuckle breaks past his lips.
“Please,” he stops you. “Just—I’m fine, baby.”
You know he’s not, but you also know that he’s exhausted his emotions for the moment, and he’s hoping you’ll give him a chance to catch his breath.
“Co’mere,” he nods for you to come down and you step carefully onto the next rung, his hand never leaving your leg until both feet find the hardwood again.
Before you can move away, he reaches for the books in your hands and sets them beside the others waiting to be carried to her new space.
His hands settle at your hips while the curtains billow softly in the midsummer breeze. Rafe draws a deep, needed breath as your arms wrap around his neck, his big arms lacing a little tighter around your waist, needing you close.
“Keep thinkin’ about our little house.”
A smile tugs at your mouth immediately. “The air conditioner barely worked?”
“Mhmm.”
“The kitchen sink that leaked every other week.”
“…I fixed that thing six times.” He sighs. “Figured it out eventually.”
“You did,” you whisper, nails scratching into the hair curling beneath his hat. “It was perfect.”
“It was… We figured it out.”
“We did.”
His thumbs drift slowly across your hips before his eyes wander around the room again.
“I was sittin’ over there lookin’ through all her baby stuff…” he says quietly, nodding back toward the box still resting beside the bed. “And all I could think about was how fast we did it.”
You tilt your head slightly, waiting for him to gather the words he’s trying to say.
“We were runnin’ the whole time,” he whispers. “But I keep thinkin’…” He pauses, searching your face before the words finally find him. “We’re not those kids anymore. We’ve got time now.”
A smile tilts on the corners of his lips, forehead tilting forward, resting against you.
“I’d like to do it again, baby,” he murmurs. He steps just a little closer until hardly any space remains between the two of you. “…I think we’d actually get to slow down and remember it all.”
You close your eyes for a second, feeling his breath against your lips.
“What do you say, pretty…” he whispers. “One more?”
little kids in their costumes, giant treat bags ready to be full by the end of the night, and parents dreading the sugar rush after it all.
you were smiling wide, sat on the porch steps besides rafe holding you close and guarding the bucket of candy in front of you.
"i can't believe you actually splurged on king size candy bars. it's ridiculous," he groaned, looking down at you through his mask.
little red riding hood and the big bad wolf... it was just one out of a few couple costumes you had put together for halloweekend.
"hey, it's our first halloween that we get to hand out candy. better start off our candy reputation with a bang," you shrugged, waving at little kids skipping up the pathway.
"the hell does that even mean—"
rafe was cut off by three minions yelling trick or treat!
he only chuckled and shook his head before tossing one candy bar into each of their treat bags.
"happy halloween, minions." giggling, you both watched them run off again.
"this is not fun. we have like... two more hours of this before the party starts. and you shooting down my idea of scaring kids makes this ten times more boring, sweetheart." he hung his head back, arms propped behind him.
"just because you're dressed as the big bad wolf doesn't mean you have to act like one," you teased, glancing back at him.
"oh, i'll be the wolf, alright," he murmured as he sat up, arms wrapping around your waist. his fingers found your sides and you dissolved into giggles.
you squirmed, pushing at his chest, but he only leaned in, pretending to bite at your shoulder through the mask.
"rafe! cut it out!" you gasped, kicking and laughing all at once.
trick or treat!
the next group to approach was a full-on incredibles family. the mom balanced a chubby baby on her hip, the little brother nearly vibrating with excitement at the candy, and the dad trying (and failing) to settle him down. their daughter looked between you and rafe with the sweetest smile.
"i love your costume! you're so pretty!" she announced, stepping forward with her bag open.
"aww, thank you, honey! happy halloween," you replied, placing a candy bar in her bag and then in each of her brothers'.
as the family walked away, rafe turned to look down at you, smirking behind the mask. "we're totally stealing that costume idea. we'll put it to good use in a few years."
raising an eyebrow at him, "you're ridiculous, rafe. obviously, our first family costume will be the avengers." you reached up, moving his mask out of the way to kiss his cheek, leaving a red mark.
"god, i love you." he leaned in, kissing you straight on the lips.
"ewww!"
you both turned in silence.
trick or treat... a toddler coincidentally dressed as spider-man paused, scowled at your kiss, grabbed a candy bar, and ran back to his mother like his feelings had been personally hurt.
"thank you, mister and miss!" he yelled, waving as he disappeared around the corner.
you and rafe turned toward each other and fell into laughter.
"that right there?" rafe murmured, slipping his hand to your hip. "that’s my future. and it looks pretty damn bright. happy halloween, baby."
— a/n: wrote this in like under two hours (i’m very tedious LMAO) but i’m HOPING to post one blurb a day this week in honor of the loml, halloween :) kisses love you alllll
synopsis :: you’re a kook, jj is a pogue. your parents find out you’re together. what could possibly go wrong? thankfully jj is there to catch the falling tears
based off this request
warnings :: none, mentions of a fight
word count :: 1.2k
pairing :: jj maybank x kook!fem!reader
outerbanks masterlist (not yet linked!)
The humid Kildare air was thick with the scent of marsh water and cheap beer as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the marsh in bruised purples and golds. At the Chateau, things were as chill as they could be. John B and Sarah were tangled together in a hammock, Pope was trying to explain the mechanics of a rusted winch to Kiara, and JJ was perched on the porch railing, mindlessly flicking a lighter open and shut.
The rhythmic clink-flick of the lighter was the only thing grounding him. He’d been off all day. Shorter fuse than usual, eyes constantly darting toward the dirt path leading to the road.
"Earth to JJ," Kie called out, leaning back in her lawn chair. "You’ve been staring at that street for twenty minutes. You expecting a package or something?"
JJ forced a grin, the practiced, lopsided one that usually hid everything. "Just waitin' for the inspiration to strike, Kie. Thinking about taking up interpretive dance."
"Please don't," Pope muttered, not looking up from his manual.
The banter was cut short by the sound of tires crunching on gravel, fast. A pair of high end LED headlights cut through the twilight, far too bright and far too expensive for the Cut. A sleek, white SUV skidded to a halt just inches from John B’s rusted-out van.
John B sat up, squinting. "Who the hell is that? Topper? Rafe?"
The Pogues stood in unison, a collective wall of defense. JJ’s lighter stayed shut in his palm. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He knew that car.
The driver’s side door flung open, and you stumbled out.
You didn't look like a Pogue. You wore a silk camisole and expensive linen trousers, the uniform of Figure 8. But you were also shaking. Your hair, usually perfectly styled for country club luncheons, was a wild mess, and even from the porch, they could see the dark tracks of mascara staining your cheeks.
"JJ?" your voice broke, thin and desperate.
The group went dead silent. Pope dropped his wrench. Sarah’s eyes went wide, darting between you and the blonde boy standing next to her.
"y/n?" John B asked, his voice laced with pure confusion. "What are you doing here?"
You didn't answer him. You didn't even see him. Your eyes were locked on JJ. When you caught his gaze, a fresh sob escaped your throat, and you started toward the porch, your steps uneven.
JJ didn't wait. He cleared the porch railing in one fluid motion, landing in the dirt and sprinting toward you. He caught you just as your knees started to give way, his rough, calloused hands gripping your waist while yours flew up to clutch at his salt stained t-shirt.
"Hey, hey, I got you," JJ whispered, his voice dropping an octave, losing every bit of its usual bravado. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, pulling you so close there wasn't an inch of air between you. "Shh, y/n, I'm right here. You’re okay."
On the porch, the silence was deafening.
"Uh," Pope started, his finger pointing aimlessly at the scene. "Does... does anyone want to explain why a Figure 8 princess is currently melting into JJ’s arms?"
"Since when do they even know each other?" Kie added, her brow furrowed. "JJ hates kooks. He spends fifty percent of his time complaining about her neighbors."
Sarah, who had grown up in the same circles as you, looked stunned. "That’s y/n. Her dad is on the board of the restoration project. She’s... she’s supposed to be dating some guy from Charleston. JJ, what is going on?"
JJ ignored them. He was busy brushing the hair out of your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears with a tenderness none of the Pogues knew he possessed. "What happened? Did someone hurt you? If one of those country club douchebags touched you, I swear to God—"
"No," you choked out, clutching his wrists. "It’s my parents, JJ. They found the letters. They found the pictures of us at the wreck. My dad... he said if I didn't stop seeing 'that Pogue trash,' he was sending me away tonight. I just... I couldn't. I left. I drove and I didn't know where else to go."
JJ’s jaw tightened, a muscle leaping in his cheek. The "Pogue trash" comment clearly stung, but his priority was the girl trembling in his arms.
"You're staying here," JJ said firmly. It wasn't a suggestion.
He turned back toward the porch, still holding you tightly to his side. The four faces staring back at him were a mix of shock, betrayal, and awe.
"JJ," John B said softly, stepping down the stairs. "Man, how long?"
JJ sighed, his defensive walls creeping back up just a fraction, though he didn't let go of you. "Four months. Since the bonfire at Mason’s. I didn't tell you guys because... look at her, man. She’s got everything to lose. I didn't want the kooks coming for her, and I didn't want you guys giving me hell for 'sleeping with the enemy.'"
"We wouldn't have given you hell," Kie said, though her voice lacked total conviction. Then, seeing the state you were in, her expression softened. "Okay, maybe a little. But JJ... you should've told us."
"I'm sorry," you whispered, finally looking at the group, your eyes red and puffy. "I know I'm the last person you want here. I'll go, I just... I needed to see him."
JJ’s grip tightened. "You aren't going anywhere."
He looked at John B, a silent plea in his eyes. John B, who knew better than anyone what it was like to be hunted by the Figure 8 elite, simply nodded.
"The Chateau’s a safe house, y/n," John B said, a small, welcoming smile tugging at his lips. "Even for kooks in distress. Sarah, you got some clothes she can change into?"
Sarah was already moving. "Yeah. Come on, y/n. Let’s get you cleaned up. Pope, go get some water. JJ... stop looking like you’re going to punch a hole in the wall. She’s safe now."
As Sarah led you inside, JJ stayed in the yard, watching your retreating back until the screen door swung shut. He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for months, his shoulders finally dropping.
"Four months, JJ?" Pope asked, whistling low. "You kept a secret for four months? I didn't think you had the lung capacity for that."
JJ reached into his pocket, pulling his lighter back out. Clink-flick. "She’s different, Pope. She's the only thing in this whole damn island that makes me feel like I’m not just some kid from the Cut destined for a jail cell."
He looked at his friends, his expression raw and honest. "I love her. And if her old man wants to call me trash, that’s fine. But he’s not taking her away."
The Pogues exchanged a look. They knew that tone. JJ Maybank had found something worth protecting, and for the first time, it wasn't a treasure map or a gold bar. It was a girl from the wrong side of the island who had found her way home.
a/n :: @mirrorballdickinson I hope this lived up to your expectations! Thank you again for requesting!!
rafe shows up to your house with blood on his face
You hear the knock before you see the time. Three soft taps. Even. Unhurried. You don’t even have to check. You already know who it is. Your stomach turns, but your feet move anyway.
When you open the door, Rafe’s standing there—bruised and bloodied. Again.
There’s a smear of red across his jaw, some dried at the corner of his mouth. His nose is still bleeding a little, and his knuckles look like he punched a wall, or a person.
His eyes lock onto yours, and the second he sees your face, he exhales. “Hey, baby,” he mutters with a scratchy edge to his voice.
You don’t say anything. Just open the door wider.
He steps inside, brushing past you like this is routine. Like this isn’t the third time this month. You shut the door, slowly.
He leans against your kitchen counter, swiping the blood from under his nose with the back of his hand. “It’s not mine,” he says casually, like that’s supposed to comfort you.
It doesn’t.
Still, you don’t say anything. You head to the sink, grab a washcloth, run it under warm water. You hear him chuckle softly behind you. “You’re mad.”
You’re not. Not really. Just scared. Worried. But you don’t want to give that to him right now. You don’t want to feed whatever this part of him is.
When you turn, he’s already watching you. Waiting.
You walk over. Hold the warm cloth to his face.
He flinches, just a little, then lets out a breath and leans in. His eyes flutter shut, like your touch calms him down. “You always take care of me,” he murmurs, lips brushing the air near your wrist. “Even when you look at me like that.”
You pause. “Like what?”
He opens his eyes, smirking. “Like I scare you.”
You don’t respond. You just keep cleaning him. Careful, quiet. His hand drifts to your waist at some point, fingers resting there like it’s normal. Like this is just your thing now—late nights and blood.
“Still love me?” he asks after a beat. You roll your eyes, but your hands get gentler. He smiles, “You do.”
And even though you don’t say it out loud, you think he knows.
Because a few minutes later, he’s dozing on your couch with his head on your shoulder and your fingers are in his hair, quietly tracing circles. You might be mad. You might be scared. But when he’s here, with you, it's when you feel the safest.
Okay, maybe it had started because you called his dealer “kind of nice” after he held the door open for you — and maybe you did giggle a little too hard when he complimented your lip gloss. But it wasn’t that deep.
But Rafe’s eyes had gone sharp, mean — and before you could blink, he was barking at you in front of everyone. That angry tone. That cold stare. The way he spat “Do you even think before you speak, or is your head just full of lip gloss and Instagram filters?”
You’d said nothing.
Just stood there like a kicked puppy until you finally turned around and left. You didn’t even wait for him to follow. You barely remembered how you got home.
Now it was hours later.
The silk tie on your robe was knotted too tight. Your lashes were clumpy from crying. And you were curled up in the corner of the bed, surrounded by pillows and a half-eaten bowl of cereal you didn’t want anymore.
Your eyes hurt. Your face hurt. Your heart hurt.
Your bottom lip wobbled as you stared at the door, waiting. Hoping.
He’s not coming home.
He was probably out somewhere still pissed, chain-smoking and calling you names in his head. Maybe he’d realized he was tired of babysitting his airhead girlfriend. Maybe he’d finally decided you were too much work.
And maybe you were.
You sniffled as you pressed your face into your sleeve. You were stupid. You knew it. Everyone always said you were — Rafe included, sometimes, when he was tired or mad or both.
But you loved him.
And now he hated you.
The front door creaked open.
You froze. Heart stopping. Head snapping up, curls falling into your eyes. You heard the soft sound of sneakers on hardwood, then his voice — calm, gruff, like nothing had even happened.
“Baby?”
You didn’t say anything. You stayed in your nest of sadness and almond milk. He appeared in the doorway seconds later — messy hair, tired eyes, hoodie slung over one shoulder.
And in his arms…
…a kitten.
A tiny, gray, squirmy little fluff ball with big ears and a pink ribbon tied gently around its neck.
Your mouth parted. A soft, wet hiccup broke from your chest.
“You got a cat,” you said stupidly.
Rafe ran a hand over his face. “She’s not a cat yet, she’s a baby. Just like you.” He walked over, nudging a pile of your blankets aside with his knee. “Figured if you’re gonna cry this much, you should at least have someone to match your energy.”
You stared at the kitten. Then at him.
“I thought you were mad at me,” you whispered, voice all glassy and broken.
He looked at you for a long second.
Then dropped the kitten gently on your lap — where it immediately started climbing onto your fuzzy pink robe, purring — and knelt in front of you, resting his hands on your knees.
“I was mad,” he said slowly. “But I still love you.”
You blinked fast, overwhelmed, reaching out to touch his face with trembling fingers. He let you, his eyes dark and tired but so soft.
“You think I’m dumb,” you mumbled, voice cracking again. “You said my head’s full of filters.”
He sighed, fingers curling around your thighs.
“Sometimes you say dumb shit. That’s different. You’re not dumb, baby. You’re just…” he searched for the word, lips twitching a little. “Sweet. And clueless. And too trusting. And it scares the fuck outta me.”
You pouted. “I didn’t even like his compliment. It was a gross compliment. I only said thank you ‘cause I was raised polite.”
“I know.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead to your knee. “I was being an asshole. I know.”
You were quiet, running your hands through his hair, lip wobbling again.
“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you whispered.
Rafe’s eyes shot up to yours.
Then — without another word — he stood, pushed you gently back onto the bed, and climbed over you.
The kitten meowed indignantly and trotted off the blanket, leaving you breathless beneath Rafe’s weight, the scent of smoke and mint gum clinging to his hoodie.
His hands found your waist. Your thighs. Sliding under your robe to touch bare skin.
“I always want you,” he said lowly, voice thick. “Even when I’m mad. Even when you drive me fuckin’ crazy.”
You bit your lip, heart racing, legs falling open just a little.
“You forgive me?”
He kissed your cheek. Your jaw. The tip of your nose.
“Nothing to forgive.”
His hand slid between your legs, slow, possessive. You gasped softly, fingers curling into his sweatshirt.
“Now stop crying, baby,” he whispered against your skin, “and let me remind you whose dumb little girl you are.”
Warnings: oral(m&f receiving), bit of a handjob, praise kink, spit kink, innocent reader but she’s lowkey in control, reader kinda gets bullied in the beginning but not directly. Not proofread.
{masterlist} • {PART TWO)
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“She’s like their little sister,” you heard the kook girl you didn’t recognize laugh as she spoke about you, “She follows them around like a groupie, JJ most of all. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with what she has. I would be flirting non-stop if I were with him as much as she is. JJ is absolutely delicious.”
“I think they’ll always be just friends,” her equally annoying friend giggles, the pair clearly not noticing you behind them or simply not caring, “I mean, look at how innocent she is, I doubt she would know how to please him if she had the chance. She has literally never had a boyfriend, she probably has never given head in her life, and JJ gets around a lot; he has plenty of better options. Hell, he probably doesn’t pay enough attention to even notice her raging crush on him anyway. You should definitely go for it tonight, I’ve heard he’s good.”
You huffed, stomping off back towards the couch you had left JJ on. What annoyed you the most wasn’t the shit talking, you knew people talked, especially kooks who somehow had nothing better to do. What hurt was the accuracy. Despite being the same age as your fellow Pogues and knowing JJ and JB since the third grade, you were still very much innocent. Especially when compared to your ragtag group of friends.
You knew they didn’t mind; they all loved you no matter what. Kie helped you as much as she could, but it was pointless; you just didn’t know how to be as laid back as they were. You had fun and loved to party as much as they did, but you still preferred a nice night in with a movie. And while part of you used to worry you held them back, they made sure you knew you could always come to them. So when you saw JJ wave you back over with a questioning look in his eyes, you knew you could ask him to help you with anything.
And your crush on him had totally and absolutely nothing to do with that decision.
“Will you teach me how to give a blowjob?” You blurt out, dropping onto the couch in front of JJ’s outstretched arm as though everything was normal. He gagged on the gulp of beer he’d just taken before looking to you with wide eyes, trying to decipher if he had heard you properly.
“What’d you jus’ say?” His voice was breathless as he wiped his face of spilled beer, your eyes tracing the droplets that escaped down his neck.
“I want you to teach me how to give good head.” You stated, stretching the words to make your intentions clear. You watched JJ’s eyes bounce between your eyes and lips, the gears in his brain working overtime to decide if you were joking or not.
“Like- uh.” JJ starts, his voice strained while he needlessly wipes his mouth again, spreading his legs on the coach and making room for himself and letting his knee touch yours, “Like on what though.” He arches his eyebrow to look at you, not wanting to be presumptuous but wanting nothing more than to help you directly.
JJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you like that a million times. He wanted you, he just never admitted it out loud because he thought you deserved better. He messed around and acted out while you and John B cleaned up after him, but over the years, he started to notice a distinct difference in his feelings for John B compared to those he had for you. However, he decided long ago he wouldn’t act on any of them unless you did first; he couldn’t risk ruining you because you were just so good.
“On you, Jay, come on, don’t make me feel weird about it.” The whining tone of your voice makes JJ bite his lip, unsure if this is ethical. JB would surely frown upon this, and Kie would probably kill him for corrupting you. But he was having a hard time fighting the urge now as you looked up to him with pleading eyes.
“Well, I don’t wanna take advantage of you or anything, y’know?” He stutters over his words slightly as he fumbles to find anything to say, making you giggle in that way he loves so much. You had never once seen JJ flustered or worried about a girl asking to suck him off and you honestly couldn’t believe it was you who got that honor.
“But I asked you to show me, I want you to teach me.” You beg him, turning your body on the couch to face him fully, placing a hand on his exposed bicep.
And his resolve snapped.
He tossed his half-full beer can aside as he stood, not caring where it landed. His hand took your own hand, gently but assertively pulling you up with him. He held onto you tightly, not wanting to lose you while weaving through the crowd in the Chateau, making his way to the bedroom he had made his. You caught sight of the first kook girl in passing, noticing the way she tried to catch JJ’s eyes, only to be ignored. Her face contorted in surprise and disgust while you laughed softly before JJ was yanking you into his room and locking the door behind you both.
“C’mere,” JJ instructed, waving two fingers towards him. When you turn to him, he’s facing away from you, grabbing a pillow from the top of his bed and tossing it on the floor at his feet. The bed creeks from his weight flopping onto it, manspreading while watching your slightly shocked and confused face, unable to hide his smile. “Come on, y’wanna learn or not?”
Your legs carry you to him, anxiously messing with the hem of your dress now that you can make out the bulge in his shorts. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice draws your gaze back to his and you can see the excitement whirling behind his blue eyes dropping you to your knees carefully, leaning into the comfort of his pillow.
“Thanks for the pillow,” You whisper, locking eyes with him from between his legs, “I didn’t know guys did that, I’ve never seen it in the porn I watch.”
“You watch porn?! Oh my god this keeps gettin’ better.” JJ groans with a smile, knocking his head back and letting you watch his adam’s apple bob, “I’ve never done it before, I just didn’t want you to bruise your knees.”
“Good to know I’m special.” You laugh awkwardly, wiggling with excited and nervous energy where you leant before him. He released an airy laugh above you, looking down at you again, his pupils dilated.
“You have no idea,” JJ’s voice was breathless and his words caught in his throat slightly, “Do you wanna get started on our lesson Princess?” JJ asked teasingly, running his fingers down your warm cheek, stopping to lift your head up by your chin. You nodded, shell shocked as you stare up at him unable to force your mouth to form words.
“I need you to tell me,” He whispered, leaning forward slowly until his lips ghost against yours, “If I’m going to finally corrupt you I need you to ask Cupcake.” Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in his scent as your heart rapped against your ribcage.
“I want you Jay….T-to teach me, please.” Your eyes flick open just in time to catch a wicked grin spread across his face before your cheeks were cupped in his warm palms, tugging your lips into his in a heated kiss. Your sighs mingle together, finally exploring what you both silently desired for so long. His tongue danced across your bottom lip asking for entrance as you gasped letting his tongue fight yours, forcing a moan from you that vibrated against his lips. He pulled away slowly, spit connecting you for a second before you’re licking your lips subconsciously. JJ observes your furrowed eyebrows and the redness flooding over your skin as your eyes stay closed in obvious pleasure.
“Still with me Gorgeous?” JJ asks, tapping your cheeks lightly, smiling excitedly as he watches you look up at him. His painfully hard erection rubbed against the zipper of his shorts as he adjusts his hips. Leaning back and resting his weight on his forearms, his crotch looming in front of you, your wide eyes telling him you have no clue how to start this. “Put your hands on my knees,” He instructs, shivering under your touch when you listen immediately, your cool hands resting against his steadily warming skin, “Good girl, now I want you to slowly move them up, like you’re not sure you want to take my pants off yet, tease me y’know?”
Your breath hitches at his praise, and he notices. You whimper as you try and follow his instructions drifting your hands across his broad thighs and letting your fingers tease under the fabric of his shorts, “You like being my good girl don’t you?” He asks, his voice teasing only slightly, his breathy voice making your thighs clench, rubbing them together desperate for friction.
“Yes, I do,” His eyes immediately catch onto the movement of your thighs, biting his lip while he watches you wiggle in front of him. He twitches in his shorts at the thought of you getting off to his pleasure, moaning loudly when he takes your hand in his pressing your palm directly into his bulge. Using his larger hand to move yours to perfectly cup around him and uses your palm moving it against his shaft as he swallows, desperately trying to collect himself.
“K-keep doing that until you’re ready,” He sighs, letting you continue at your own pace, moving his hand up to your hair to fix it, not wanting it to fall into your face as he watched your features for signs of distress, “When you want to unbuckle my belt and-“ He gasps cutting off his sentence when your fingers immediately jump to hastily undo his belt. Your shaking hands struggle for a few awkward seconds before you’re tugging his shorts down his thighs exposing his black boxers. JJ lifts his hips to let you discard his shorts fully, tossing them aside as you stare into his eyes triumphantly, “Good girl.”
Your wide smile as your hands tease their way back up his naked thighs just as he taught you has him reeling, practically shaking with excitement. “You like being praised, don’t you Mama?” He asks, tugging his lip between his teeth when your fingers find his cock again. He tugs your hand upward, moaning when he presses your hand into his tip, stopping your movements entirely until you respond.
“Yes Jay.” You whine, your tone impatient as you wiggle your hand under his, making him release a breathy moan laced with a laugh as he releases your hand, letting it continue it’s excited exploration of him. Your free hand started to sneak it’s way up his body, making him jolt forward as your cold hand found it’s way into his shirt.
“Who do you wanna learn this for?” JJ blurts out, not entirely wanting to hear the answer as he tugs his shirt over his head impatiently. Closing his eyes as your nails dig their way back down his chest, part of him wondering how you knew he’d like that.
“Myself.” JJ feels the smile grow back on his face, relief flooding his body as he opens his eyes, locking onto your wide gaze looking up to him expectantly. You want his instructions, and he wants to draw this out.
“So there’s no one in that precious mind of yours right now?” He asks, letting his eyes fall down your face, gazing at your wet lips before eyeing your cleavage and wiggling hips. Trying to suppress that part of him that wants you to stay here like this forever.
“Well,” You giggle, palming him through his boxers just over his tip, loving the way his head falls back with a moan when you apply more pressure, “Right now I have you on my mind Jay.”
“Fuck, you have no idea what that does to me,” He smiles towards the ceiling, imagining all the times he came in his hand to this exact scenario, “I thought you were too good for me, why’d ya ask me?”
“Some girls at the party were talking about me, calling me your groupie and saying I wouldn’t know what to do with you if you ever gave me the chance, and I really wanted a chance.” You sigh, drifting your hand down his toned abs to tease the elastic of his underwear, letting it snap against his skin as your excited eyes find his again.
“Oh Princess,” he cooed caressing your cheek, “You have always had the chance. You were the first girl I ever imagined doing this for me.” His eyes went wide when he realized what he had said, almost backtracking before you interrupted him to speak.
“Good, because I can’t imagine anyone else teaching me, I trust you, I want it to be you.” You state simply, locking your eyes in his gaze and taking not of the hitch in his breath. In a spurt of confidence you’re tugging his boxers down his thighs, eyeing his thick, throbbing cock as it bounces free, eyes meeting his again in a beg, “Tell me what to do Jay.”
“First give the tip a kiss Baby,” You do as your told, touching your lips against his hot, red tip as it leaks precum onto your lips, “Mmm, fuck now get your tongue nice and wet and lick up the middle, when it feels right slide my tip against your tongue n’suck on it like those Cherry suckers you’re always begin’ me for.”
You laugh, suddenly feeling more and more confident as you watch him come undone above you. “Is that what you want Jay? Or are you goin’ easy on me?”
“If you think you can take me in one go do it Princess, but don’t think I’m pressuring you,” He sighed, watching your tongue wet the side of his pulsing cock, “I want you to go at the pace you’re comfortable with.”
You smile up at him as you separate from him, letting spit coat your tongue before moving to lick up the prominent vein popping out of the other side of his cock. He groans above you, subconsciously moving his hips closer to your mouth in uncontrollable excitement. As your lips caress against his red, leaking tip you slowly let spit drip from your lips onto him, watching as it drips down him and pools in the bit of trimmed hair at his base. His eyes pop from his head when you bring your hand up to spread your saliva over him, pumping your hand slowly and twisting it like you’d seen in videos. You watched his furrowed eyebrows, buying yourself time to work up enough spit in your mouth to take him fully. His lips tug into his teeth as his hips stutter upward into your hand.
“Where did you learn to do that?” JJ gasps, stuttering and twitching in your wet hand.
“Porn.” Your sickly sweet voice has him moaning and tugging at your hair, forcing you’re eyes up to his.
“You’re so fucking perfect.” He states before slamming his lips into yours, moving you back by your hair wrapped around his fist. You gape up at him wide mouthed, your hand speeding up when his eyes bounce between your open, drooling mouth and your blown out eyes as though asking for permission. You nod your head to him, not sure what he wanted to do but okay with it nonetheless. His free hand jumped to your chin, tugging your mouth open wider before leaning down and spitting directly onto your tongue. Rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you moan you shiver in front of him at the feeling of his spit mixing with yours, unknowingly helping you in your previous goal.
JJ chuckles at your reaction, moaning slightly when your hand speeds up again. You savior the feeling of his spit in your mouth for a second, your eyes latching onto his as you smile wickedly. JJ only takes a second’s pause before his eyed widen watching your mouth dip lower, his fingers subconsciously tightening in your hair, moving his other to grip the bed and ground himself. Breath fills your lungs from your nose, prepping yourself before teasing his tip with your tongue for only a second before you slowly slide him into your mouth. His hips jolt forward subconsciously, shuddering breathlessly when your eyes meet his over your lashes again. JJ curses under his breath, watching you take almost every inch of him in one go, sliding your head down his shaft, resting your hand at his base when you can’t fit anymore.
JJ moans loudly when you swallow around him, jerking his hips into you desperately trying to control himself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cut him off quickly, shoving your head as far down as you can go, feeling his tip twitching in the back of your throat as you gag around him. You pop your head up, dragging your tongue against the underside of his shaft, moaning at his taste and sending vibrations through him. You suckle on his tip, preparing yourself as you gasp for breath around him. You start to bob your head up and down him, swirling your tongue as you go dropping low enough to feel his pubes tickle your cheeks, his hands moving to the back of your head to tug your hair into his fingers.
“You’re a natural,” JJ sighs, “Feel like imma cum already Gorgeous, fuck.” Gazing up at him you watch his eyes try and stay open, try to maintain eye contact until they flutter shut when the tip of your tongue grazes his ballsack unintentionally. JJ subconsciously pushes your head down, pulling a moan from you as he groans into his bitten lip, hooded eyes watching you intently now as he tugs you off of him with a pop. His hand stays in your hair, his eyes watching the way your spit dribbles down your chin, mixing with your lipstick and contrasting the black mascara running down you cheeks.
“I want you to try something, but only if you’re comfortable okay?” You nod to him desperately, ignoring the fact that your hair’s probably a mess in his hand, “Flatten out your tongue f’me,” His voice was demanding but soft still, a side of him you had never seen before beginning to come forward, “Yea, good girl just like that,” He says as he watches you stick your tongue out for him, spit dripping down the middle and directly onto is erect cock, “Now lean down and suck on my balls Sweetheart.” Your eyes went wide watching how he bobbed infront of your face. “If you don’t want to that-“
A shiver runs down his spine and directly into his rock hard cock when your warm tongue drags against his heavy sack before you suck one into your mouth, his hand tugs into your hair harder instinctively as he shudders. His shaft twitches against your face, your tongue swirlly against his salty flesh, tugging off him with a pop. You look up to him, makeup dyed spit dripping off your chin and down your chest, “Like that?”
“Yes yes just like that,” He gasps, desperation laced in his tone, immediately making you drop your head back. Sucking his other tight ball into your mouth, swirling your tongue while he shakes you slowly move your hand that was supporting your weight on his knee under your dress, circling your clothed clit with two fingers. Moaning around him as your eyes flutter shut feeling the wet patch seeping through your underwear.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” JJ growls when he catches your hands movement, his hand caress your face gently contrasting his hard tone. Despite wanting to listen your eyes stay shut as you speed up your fingers movement, “Thought you said you liked being a good girl, now listen to me.”
Letting your eyes flicker open you feel your cheeks heating up even more when you catch his gaze. His blue eyes only egg you on further, your fingers speeding up subconsciously while he stares at you with a smile. Breathing through your nose you continue your mouths exploration of him, popping your mouth off of his flesh only to immediately suck his tip into your mouth again. JJ’s hand tugs your hair into a ponytail as you bob your mouth on him, his tip hitting your throat each time making you gag and moan on him. The vibrations of your noises make his hips jolt uncontrollably, his body and dick twitching together as your spit pools on his groin and slips down his thighs.
He releases a loud needy groan when you force your mouth off him, his hand falling from your hair and clutching the blanket below him, mumbling incoherently while trying to ask why you stopped. He whines loudly gasping and gripping the bed so hard his knuckles turn white when you drag your wet tongue from the middle of his ballsack directly to his tip. Moaning when he twitched against your face, sucking him into your mouth while you eye his adam’s apple bobbing. Sensing he was close you stop your fingers with a whine around him, moving in order to move your hands to support yourself on his knees as you suck your cheeks in. You drag your mouth down his shaft and JJ whimpers, shoving his hand into your hair and tugging as he cums down your throat, filling your mouth as you moan.
“Fuck I’m so sorry, I didn’t have time to warn you, do you need’ta spit?” He asks, trying to ignore the tingle running down his spine at the sight of his cum dribbling past your lips.
“It’s okay,” You state simply licking your lips clean, the sweet tone in your voice not changing despite the more than inappropriate circumstances, “Your cum tastes so good Jay, look I swallowed it already.” You stick your tongue out to him, showing what little residue remains as he groans above you again.
“If you need anymore lessons, you can always, and i mean always, come to Papa Jay.” His breathless voice makes you laugh as you hop up to sit next to him on the bed.
“Do you wanna take my virginity too.” The burst of confidence making him cum gave you almost wears off at the look of shock that grows onto JJ’s face.
“Damn Mama, you are so fucking bold tonight, you have no clue how many times I have imagined you asking me that.” He smiles at you, his large ring clad hand gripping your thigh as it sits beside him, “Wanna tell me how long you have been fantasizing about your best friend poppin’ your cherry?”
“Forever.”
“Mmmhmm, that’s what I wanted to hear.” JJ groans, pulling your thighs apart and shoving you backwards letting your dress ride up. He rolls over you, settling over you where you lay on his bed, framing your face with his arms. “I think it’s your turn right now though don’t you?” Shivers run down your spine at his tone, subconsciously trying to rub your thighs together earning a teasing laugh from JJ. You brace yourself on his waste, tugging him closer to you as his lips crash into yours, tongues immediately starting to fight for dominance only for him to win with a groan.
“We should save your first time until there’s not a dozen people right outside the door.” Lowering his voice to a whisper as he lightly digs his hips into you, “And I think we need to have a conversation before we….move forward.” Letting his lips graze your neck as he keeps going he smiles at your gasps of appreciation, “But don’t think I don’t really, really want to right now.”
JJ’s teeth tug at the spaghetti strap string of your dress as he crawls lower down your body, letting it snap back against your skin with a sigh, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, so perfect I can’t even look at you sometimes.” The warm feeling of his tongue against your collar bone has you bucking against him desperately, hissing when his teeth nip at the exposed flesh of your breast.
“I love when you wear this dress,” JJ moans against your skin, his head falling low enough to push his face into your chest for a few seconds, wiggling it around dramatically, making you laugh before be continues his decent, “I don’t wanna take it off.” He groans, biting at your flesh through the fabric.
“Then don’t.” You say breathlessly, smiling down to him as you tangle your fingers into his hair. He smiles back to you, quickly pushing himself down the bed the rest of the way so he was face to face with your exposed thighs. With a quick flick of his wrists he flips the hem of your dress up, exposing your damp matching underwear.
“You matched your underwear to your outfit? That’s so cute.” JJ groans, dipping his head to bite at the flesh of your thigh as his hands slowly work their way up your thighs. He pulls back, watching intently as he slips his fingers past the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down as you lift your hips to help. You watch him as he tosses your underwear behind him, his eyes meeting yours for a second seeking consent as he shoves your thighs further apart, putting you completely on display for him. JJ licks his lips as he eyes you, moving his hands slowly under and around your thighs resting them on his shoulders before shoving your hips down with his large palms. He groans loudly as he bites into the flesh of your thigh beside him, slowly licking his way to your center and leaving a wet trail behind.
His hands hold your hips down hard as they jolt upward with your moan and laughs into you happily. Eyeing the way your head falls back, your chest rising and fallen he quickly speeds up his tongues pursuit of your clit. Watching you as one hand hangs above your head and the other plays with his hair, JJ can’t think of anything that looks better.
“Oh my god,” You yell, the feeling of his tongue flattening against you, slowly licking back and forth over your clit before quickly sucking it into his mouth. You scream a moan at the sensation, tugging at JJ’s hair aggressively not caring if anyone outside the door can hear your pleasure. “Do that again Jay.” JJ’s lips pop off of you into a smile, his lips glistening with your release before he drops his head back into you. Flicking his tongue aggressively against you as he licks up your slit, groaning at the feeling of your nails against his scalp when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. JJ can feel himself growing hard against the blanket at your taste, your shaking legs egging him on as your release quickly approaches.
The feeling of JJ’s tongue prodding at your entrance as you clench on nothing has the tightening feeling in your abdomen worsening, making you whine and wiggle your hips subconsciously. The grip of JJ’s hands on your hip tightens, his nails digging into your flesh as he grinds himself into the mattress at your excitement. He plunges his tongue into you, collecting your juices on his tongue with a desperate groan, his eyes flickering shut as he moves to flick his tongue against your puffy clit again. JJ pulls back quickly making you whine and tug at his hair, trying to shove him back into you and forcing a wicked laugh from him as he spits directly onto you and dives back in. You shudder when he starts to lap against you wildly, your hips jolting and your back arching, your hands tugs on his hair harder as you cum, the almost painful band in your abdomen breaking in a euphoric release. Moaning so loudly you know for sure anyone close enough to the door could hear but you didn’t care as you came undone on your best friend’s tongue, breath shaking as your body twitches.
JJ’s tongue slows, pushing himself up to get a better look at your post orgasm face, your eyes unfocused and your mouth open in gasping breaths. He slowly crawls up your body, smiling in your face and you smile back at him the best your can, he groans at the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your hair sticking to your forehead as he smash his lips into you. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue as you both moan into each other.
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I might wanna do a part 2 of this for their first time, would anyone be interested in that?
