#also the way that these keep getting longer and longer...

[reignpage]

piggybacking on the banana question, if they all got to run the train what order would they go in?? 🙏🙏🙏

(i just wanna know where you’d put nanami tbh)

I LOVE THIS QUESTION

Choso: cause he'd be the virgin of the group. they'd think of it as initiation and would want him to experience the very best on his first time. I imagine nanami would likely have to guide his dick in because he keeps missing the whole, would mutter encouragements and instructions. everyone would even shout out tips like 'hey cho, slap her pussy she likes that' or 'choso ma boi, grind your hips, oh yeah just like that, hear her moans? she fucking loves that shit'. he'd be passed out on the side from the overwhelmingness of it all, probably drooling babbling about how great pussies are

Nanami: would go next, his case being that he's got things to do so let's just get it over with. truthfully he couldn't wait any longer. he talks you through it, describes all the things he's feeling, how you're so tight, the pleats and folds of your pussy, how beautiful you look. he fucks you like there's no one else in the room. they'd all start complaining about long he's taking and he'd roll his eyes but would make sure you cum first before he does. and then he never actually leaves, he just stays, brushing tears from your eyes and cooing for you to let him know if it gets too much

Sukuna: the fact that he's sharing at all is already making him on edge, so to be going third would piss him off. RIP your pussy bro. he's really getting all up in there, bruising you so badly you're gripping Nanami's arm whilst he smiles down at you for being so good. sukuna would slap your face (not too hard, just to get your attention) he'd tch! and start degrading the shit out of you. look at you making obscene noises from both lips like a whore. you love the attention don't you? bet you want all of your holes filled up, you dirty girl. would probably demand someone plugs up your loud mouth. and after he cums inside, he'd force you to clean him up whilst the next one steps up

Geto: if I had it my way he wouldn't even be in the room but whatever, dick is dick so who can complain. he's very sweet seeming, he wets his dick with your cum, doing a pussyjob, really getting you worked up so you beg for him and then he fucks into you slow. too slow. you start crying, complaining, screaming for him to fuck you hard. he laughs until everyone else gets mad at him for being too mean, like come on man, there are limits. so then he picks up the pace and he even pats your pussy and thanks it for doing a good job.

Gojo: insisted he goes after geto. says he wants his bestie to go first but really he just wanted to fuck you with his dick drowning in geto's cum. that really gets him going. really mean too, would mock the faces and sounds you make until you're pouting through the tears that he's just like geto. and that man cums. he keeps cumming too cause geto comes up behind him and guides his hips and keeps him fucking into you, whispering how poor little you didn't even get to cum yet

Toji: that man is a dirty dirty whore. he doesn't care that other men's cum is dripping out of you. he's filthy. in fact, he'd eat you out before he slips it in. and he's bending you in all sorts of different positions. he even lifts you up so everyone can see your tits bounce, your eyes roll back, and your pussy take his cock again and again. man also walks over to choso and does it right in front of his face, asks him to lick your clit, and of course he does. pounds into you so hard you're dazed and delirious and when he asks who's fucking you best you're just screaming his name and everyone rolls their eyes

It just means they go for round 2 to prove who really is the best

[curiousorigins]

Yeah, I had this whole period of a few years where I was working a near full time retail job, going to college (over full time via credit hours) and commuting around an hour-2 hours each way depending on when in that period and if I happened to get my favorite bus driver. (he shaved a full 20-40 minutes off of my 2 transfers commute.) Pretty much I had time for nothing especially when you factored in that I get motion sick, so I couldn't manage to do homework on the bus (I could at best manage audio language tapes... as that talk to text stuff was bad then and I have audio processing issues) and I wasn't sleeping well. (I've fallen asleep in a moving vehicle twice in my life for longer than 2 minutes. Once after a full 2 weeks of not sleeping for about 5 minutes (according to friend who was driving) and another on the bus during this period. And yes I was awoken because the bus returned to the bus service garage.) and had to actively play rock music (complete with an audio effects CD on shuffle which was the surprising boon to my playlists. I will never create a Mix CD/Playlist without random animal noises and sirens again.) in order to prevent myself from falling asleep in public and leaving my body to the whims of strangers around me.

So funny thing about this period of my life... whether due to the lack of calories. (no required meal plan as part of tuition as I was commuting to school and thus college not obligated to prevent student starvation. However it was a community college and thus real awesome at providing free food opportunities to those willing to follow their nose/rumors of free food with enough free time between classes to indulge.) lack of sleep, financial stress (I mostly save a few minor grants self-funded my schooling... ending with less than $1,500 debt my final semester despite going to college in the U.S. [highly recommend community colleges. However don't do this. I almost died so many times. I got an ulcer that led to 2 weeks of internal bleeding and missed 2 weeks of work and like 10 years+ fearing many foods. Getting a loan in this case would have been smarter. Yes even with how student loans are.] my grades also couldn't keep up and I lost any academic related funding as well. Including eventually the student loans. I pretty much had a major mental health crisis on top of very horrible health crisises... that for a period at up approximately 6 hours of my none-free-time but actual doing homework/studying/relaxing [If I ever had a chance] time. Don't do it.

Anyways I learned to eat one handed. We were raised in a set the table and use utensils with the proper hand etc household... so yeah for me this was a college-age learned skill. I learned to scarf down (already had to a degree. God bless ovrcrowded public schools where) ANYTHING in less than 10 minutes provided I was hungry enough. To eat (sort of neatly) when walking. To chug 44oz of water etc in about 5 minutes. (My job consisted of unloading trucks in lack of climate control in near one of the hottest places on earth for 3 months of the year. Funny thing, also near the coldest for near the same period of time annually. And I was always at risk of passing out from dehydration. I literally hardly peed during this period because I was sweating enough to keep up with the minimal gallon of water/sport's drink etc I was drinking per day.)

I also had started getting into art and social media. (I actually briefly was making minor waves.) and the only time I had to draw consisted of my breaks and meal breaks at work (because again I got motion sick in moving vehicles). I was drawing, inking, and painting in watercolor 25 days a month, completing an average of 25-40 paintings during that month. Work was the main area where I had wiggle room to socialize, so I was often, drawing/painting in the breakroom while stuffing my face with as many calories as possible (I was unloading trucks and at the height of my families' weirdly high metabolism) while talking. So I was penciling/drawing/finalizing an average of 10-15 minutes (while eating), inking in 5-10 minutes and painting in 15-25 minutes/day. (While eating). Oh and because there literally wasn't a schedule where I could possibly eat a meal at home 5-6 days/week; I also developed absolute zero shame to munching whereever I was, no matter what was going on (though little kid me was ahead of the curve because PBS used to broadcast surgeries on Sundays and I was fascinated. And would have my lunch/dinner watching them and only once they were wiggling around intestines while I was eating spaghetti and had a bad brain sensory visual textural experience. Otherwise I was good to go.) [as an aside, this includes that poor person who was 'pregnant' for a few decades, via the rare ectopic pregnancy that doesn't cause a patient to go septic, who's surgery ended up being broadcast on PBS for some reason... I would assume exploitation to pay for the surgery itself. That's called

(Trigger warning for link above: Many examples of very late term incomplete pregnancies that are identifiably human fetuses that are not compatible with life. Stopped living often decades before they might have been born had the embroyos implanted elsewhere. Frozen in gestation. Images within that could be disturbing to those mourning a miscarriage, actively pregnant, suffering infertility issues etc. Please do use your best judgement and do not click the link above if you're not in a place where one could take their time, energy etc to emotionally deal with such a disturbance.)

But yeah I can eat in pretty any condition. Not super cleanly... mostly because I don't care. My Dad hates going out to eat with me and has to remind me that I won't have successful dates (while I'm not interested in dating anyone) because of how I eat. While I say, "Might as well eat like a pig on the first date, not that there will be dates. Because this how I eat. If they can't stomach it. Then I'm saving us both some hassle." And quickly too. I can't manage to hold my breath while swimming/diving or do that weird pushing breath out to prevent water in your nose thing. But I can breath while I'm actively drinking and eating. I can also eat while talking while not telegraphing that I have food in my mouth via sound or sight.

Those are just some of the few unintended skills I ended up developing, perfecting out of genuine necessity and survival. And no, I don't ever want to live like that again. I respect myself too much to out myself through it. Of course when I decided I'd take commissions at conventions while selling my art, these are skills that I started to purposefully develop.

Jobs don’t always limit the skills you learn to the job itself. For instance, when I worked at Red Robin, they’d offer 30 minutes for an unpaid lunch, or 15 if you wanted to get paid the whole time. If you think that’s extremely shitty join the club.

As a result of wanting money I got really good at eating quickly so I could use my break to read or relax. I’ve always been a fast eater but when I worked there I learned how to eat an entire burger and fries in under five minute while keeping up a conversation. This is not advisable for good digestion, eat slow and chew your food.

There’s a balance to not talking with your mouth full and eating extremely quickly and it was a regularly used skill for years. When I worked at a sex shop I bragged about it once to a coworker.

She watched me with a timer going after I told her about it and we got burgers. I chatted with her the whole time. I was done in four minutes forty seconds.

Afterward she looked haunted and commented, “It was like watching a snake unhinge it’s jaw but you never talked with food in your mouth!”

More recently my beloved and I were catching up with a friend over lunch. I had a sandwich while they’d gotten falafel plates. We were having a lovely chat but after I finished a story our friend said, “I don’t want your food to go cold while you talk!”

I was surprised. I’d been deliberately talking more so she could eat. I turned to show her my empty sandwich box. Both she and my beloved were stunned. It was like I’d performed a magic trick and made my sandwich disappear because neither had even noticed me demolishing it like a snake unhinging it’s jaw.

[lackadaisycats]

Hello Tracy, I've been a fan of Lackadaisy since the webcomic days and want to ask a quick question regarding Patreon. I'm also an indie creative myself and currently trying to raise funds for a show I'm working on. What are the best ways to market myself online, and what are some ways to obtain money for the production of merchandise that doesn't involve crowdfunding?

Any specific advice I could give about marketing oneself online at this point would be pretty outdated. I started making Lackadaisy years back, when the internet had a rather different geography and culture. DeviantArt was where all the art kids were. That is, of course, no longer the case.

My generalized advice, though, would be to start working on your project, start sharing it in some form, even if it's just concept art or experiments at this phase, and start building an audience. Nothing speaks to the quality and appeal of whatever it is you're making like the thing itself does. Pick your poisons, as far as social media goes, but probably don't focus solely on one. Platforms don't remain useful or pleasant places to be forever. Set up an avenue for viewers to support you (Patreon, Ko-fi, or something like it), but don't expect supporters to come flooding in all at once. The internet is awash with so many creators and shows and influencers and distractions, it's hard to make waves. Tenacity will be your ally, though. You are likely going to be pursuing your project on the side and possibly working at a loss for a while as you build. Keep things small scale, especially if you're working solo, or with a small team of people. Audience growth and support may eventually start allowing you to expand your ambitions. It's important to do the thing you're doing out of love for the art, for the project itself, for the experience of doing it, and not because you're expecting rounds of applause, accolades, and money to come rushing at you. There's no guarantee that last part will happen...so at least make sure you're having fun doing whatever you're doing.

----------------

About merchandise --

You can incur the upfront cost of producing, say, a small run of enamel pins. Sell them on your own shop storefront or offer them to supporters at certain tier levels and see how long it takes to earn back the production cost such that you start earning a little bit of profit. Get a feel for how well you can handle packaging and shipping things yourself. Test the waters before making any large merch orders, and don't order vast amounts of something that you don't have room to 'warehouse' in your own home.

You can go the print on demand route. It's got its drawbacks - like slim returns - but it allows you to offer an assortment of merch items without the huge risk of paying big manufacturing fees upfront. It can also do the fulfillment/shipping part for you. I did pretty okay selling prints this way for a time. (Research and be selective about what services you use here, though. Some have gotten markedly worse over the years.)

I know Patreon offers a subscription level for creators that includes some merch production and fulfillment. I haven't personally used it, though, so I'd ask around to see what other creators' experiences have been like with it.

One thing I would suggest relying more heavily on, especially at first, is digital/downloadable rewards, like PDF ebooks or digital sketchbooks - things like that. Shipping supplies and postage costs are ever-increasing and can easily end up putting you in the red. Also, if you have an international audience, it may be difficult to reach them with tangible merch items.

You might also check out some nearby conventions to see if they'd be a good fit for you and your project. Apply for artist alley space at one of them if that's appropriate, or investigate whether or not it'd be worth it to get a dealer table. You might even find someone willing to share dealer space with you for a trial-run.

At some point, when you have enough of an audience to warrant it, seek out a merch partner. Or, they might come scouting for you if they think you have something going that'd be soundly marketable.

[this-resident-is-evil]

Mountain Laurel

Note: I’ve been seeing some people wishing there was more lore accurate Leon, you know the guy who is awkward with women. So… I thought which role is the best fit for him other than the hades the Greek god of the underworld himself. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Hades Leon S. Kennedy x Persephone fem reader

Synopsis: You are Persephone one of Zeus’s many daughters and one of the younger goddesses. Your power to grow flowers and them appearing in your hair usually matches your emotional state. Life seems bleak and difficult, until you become the new queen of the underworld.

Contains: Incestual relationships (You know how the Greek gods are), Hinting at nonconsensual intercourse (not from Leon), passionate sex, hand job (m and f receiving), vaginal penetration, praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex, breeding kink (kind of?)

Warning: Minors do not interact.

Leon made his way through the marble building. The ancient Greek gods have accumulated amongst the humans for a long time now and seemed to be respected by the mortals. He stood in front the chambers where he would usually find his brother cheating on his wife with mortal sex workers.

He always felt awkward walking in on him and desperately tried to convince his brother to meet him dressed for once. But he was no king of Olympus and had no place ordering his brother around. Zeus was a stubborn fellow after all.

He knocks on the door hoping that the naked bodies of women wouldn’t greet him the moment he opened the door or was allowed the entrance.

“Come in.” A deep rumbling voice was heard from the other side of the large door and he opened it.

Of course, Zeus was sprawled in the middle of a large bed, his back against the headboard. Four women were tucked into his large frame luckily covered but considering the importance of the meeting he assumed Zeus would kick them out.

“Hades. We were meeting today?” Zeus chuckles.

“It’s Leon, brother.” He speaks up.

“You are not insisting on still keeping your alias?” Zeus mocked with a belly rumbling laugh. “Fine, fine, Leon…” He sighs. “What do you need?”

Leon swallowed a lump forming in his throat. He felt odd talking about this very topic in front of women he has never seen, who were also most defiantly naked beneath the silk sheets.

“I need a wife. The underworld is getting tedious to rule on my own.” He spoke up and Zeus’s expression shifts to a more serious one.

“You are free to go.” He spoke to the women.

While three of them tried to coax him into letting them stay a bit longer or praising his performance there was one that caught Leon’s eye. A woman who was quick to leave the bed and attempted to appear small and insignificant.

It was you. Bare as the day you were born rushing to find clothing to cover your bare body with and you were gone. He noticed your hair filled with Mountain Laurel’s a poisonous flower one even dropped at Leon’s feet as you were making record time in leaving the room.

He bent down to pick it up and take a better look at the flower. The mostly white petals with hints of pink felt soft to the touch. He wasn’t big on flowers but this one caught his attention when Demiter was yapping away about her daughter’s capabilities.

Luckily the said flower distracted him from accidentally making eye contact with the naked women leaving Zeus’s bed.

“So, a wife.” Zeus spoke up the moment the door closed behind the women. He stood up in all his naked glory pulling a silk robe over his shoulders. “You have anyone in mind?”

Leon pocketed the flower as he turned his attention towards his brother. “What about the young lady who left first?”

Zeus’s thick brows furrow at the mention. “Persephone?” He questions and Leon nods. “Brother, you can’t be serious.” He mocked.

“I’m serious.” Leon spoke firmly.

“She is used goods. I will find you a virgin goddess.” He waved it off.

“I’d prefer not to wed a virgin goddess.” Leon spoke up firmly.

Zeus chuckled. “What does it matter? It is not as if you can bear a child.”

This struck a nerve with the king of the underworld. He straightened his posture stating that he was firm in his request. Zeus’s look softened at the sight of his brother.

“Very well then.” He spoke in the end. “You can take her right now.”

It was disgusting. Treating her like a cow someone could just take away and not caring in the slightest. Persephone was his daughter… but this was Zeus. A man with too many children to count both gods and goddesses as well as half mortals. He had a different women warm his bed while his lovely wife was busy organizing banquets and family gatherings.

Zeus gave Leon a general direction where to go to speak to Persephone and he was quick on his feet to formally and officially meet his new wife. It felt wrong to him to just come up to her bedroom and say ‘hi there pack your stuff you are marrying me’. But how else could he put it? He struggled with many different approaches until he finally made it to her door.

A soft knock and a short wait later there you stood. Leon was smitten. All his speeches and offerings evaporating from his mind the moment his eyes landed on you. You looked tired and even broken most likely from all the hardships Zeus put you through.

“Can I help you?” You spoke up breaking Leon’s trance making him blink rapidly.

“I um… How do I put it…” He stumbles through his words your kind eyes making his mind run blank. “Are you alright?” Is the first thing that leaves his mouth after a longer pause.

This question caught you off guard. Before you, stood the Hades, the god of the dead and the king of the underworld and he was checking in if you were, okay?

“Yeah…” You lie through your teeth as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and another Mountain Laurel drops from your locks onto the ground.

“Please don’t lie.” He speaks and your eyes widen. Was he really the scary god you have heard rumors about?

You bite down on your lower lip and sigh. “No. I’m not.” You speak your voice breaking in the moment.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He almost stammers through the question but manages to keep his voice and tone even.

“I’m sorry, what?” You question.

“Do you want to get away from him? He won’t touch you again, you will stay in a safe place, far, far away from here.” He began explaining.

Your expression is taken over by shock and you were wary of his offer. He could just replace your current abuser and be even worse. However, there was just something about him. He was nervous, cautious and awkward as if he didn’t know how to best offer his aid to a person in clear need of some help.

“Yes.” Escapes your mouth before you think too clearly about it. Was it desperation or something else? You couldn’t tell. He was offering a lamp in the never-ending darkness, a hand to raise you from the despair and lift you to the grassy plains you always saw in paintings.

And so, it was… Leon took you to his penthouse in the mortal realm, offered you shelter from the horrible storm Zeus created and treated you with nothing but kindness and care. He was still very much odd in comparison to the other gods you have met but this was a welcomed difference.

The two weeks you rested and took time to process the horrors you went through and those two weeks were refreshing. Leon always stayed in a room of his own while allowing you to give the guest room your own touch. What else could it be but flowers you grew yourself?

Leon was curious and peaked at now your bedroom while you were in the shower. The flowers were vibrant, beautiful and very poisonous. Lantanas on the windowsill were bright red and orange making the window look as if it was painted in the sunset’s colors. Along one of the walls proudly stood the Lily of the Valley as well as several Foxgloves. They didn’t pose much harm unless consumed but what worried him was the Wisteria flowers hanging from the ceiling.

If he remembers correctly those are not harmful for humans but for animals like cats or dogs. If Cerberus the three headed hound was to eat some it would be harmful for him.

“Mr. Leon.” You squeak the moment you saw him in your bedroom.

“Just Leon is fine…” He speaks up now feeling the anxiety forming in the pit of his stomach. “I just wanted to see the flowers…” He adds.

“Okay…” You speak awkwardly. “I’m not letting Cerberus in there. Wisteria could be harmful if he was to eat some.” You add and a hint of a smile appears in the corner of his lips.

“Thank you.”

You nod holding onto a damp towel you usually placed on a radiator in your bedroom. Just then the pitter patter of claws against the hardwood floors turns your attention to the three headed dog that stared into your soul.

He was quick to tuck one of his heads into your side practically demanding that you pet all three of his heads. “He took a liking to you.” Leon speaks up.

“Yes, I suppose he did.” You say as you lower your free hand to pet Cerberus on one of his heads.

“You two will protect the house then.” He spoke. “I have a meeting I must attend tonight… hopefully it won’t take too long.”

You took a better look at him noticing he wore a perfectly tailored suit with a Mountain Laurel tucked into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. It looked as if it was on the verge of wilting away.

You picked one of the smaller lilies now growing among your locks and replace the sad flower with a fresher one. His blue eyes stare into your own at the gesture and he gives you a nod of approval before leaving the pent house.

Left to your own devices you made your way to a bookshelf standing in the living room. Among the old classics and newer works, you run your fingers along the spines. Recently you finished reading The Count of Monte Cristo and now it was time to occupy your time with something else.

Your finger lands on the spine that read The Frankenstein... intrigued you pick it up and open it. What you found inside were newspapers neatly bent and placed between the pages. You take the paper and unfold it to find the flowers that grew in your hair from the moment the two of you met. The Lilly, the Water Hemlock, The Oleander and of course the Mountain Laurel. The very same he picked from the ground as you rushed out of Zeus’s chambers.

He pressed to preserve the flowers growing in your hair. Commemorating the stages of healing you passed in the last two weeks. Your heart warms as you put everything back in place. From that day onwards every time Leon had to leave the pent house you tucked a fresh flower into his breast pocket. Calendulas, Dahlias, Cornflowers, Pansies and lastly Roses.

He was kind and patient with you giving you support and care you couldn’t even dream of receiving while you still lived in the Olympus villa. He even insisted for you to pick a name of your own, one that he would call you and one that you felt comfortable having.

“(Y/N)…” He spoke up one evening tucking your attention away from a book you were reading. “I didn’t want to bring this up while you were still vulnerable and getting better but I think I should now…” He seemed nervous, hands seemed to clamp up as he rubbed them against his pants. “When we met… I came to Zeus to discuss me finding a wife.”

“Is that why you were going on meetings so often?” You question your heart feeling as if a dangerous string was tightening against the beating organ.

“Well yes… um… I asked Zeus for your hand in marriage.” He admits and your eyes widen. “I should have said something sooner and I’m deeply sorry for keeping this…”

“Why me?” The question escapes you.

He is taken aback by the question. “I’ll be frank… I have never seen a woman run for their life from Zeus and I just had to meet you. And when I did, I was…”

You await his continuation and he just can’t seem to find the right words to explain the hurricane of emotions that over took him the moment he saw you. He was enchanted with your beauty, charmed by your honesty when he kindly asked for it, knowing that I would make you vulnerable if you did speak the truth, he was angered by the pain a sweet doe such as yourself carried on her shoulders.

“I was smitten, enchanted, charmed, enamored, as if the fates have decided to bless me with such treasure. I went to those meetings to convince your mother to allow me to take you to the underworld with me. If you of course so wished. And she was a tough nut to crack.” He sighs.

Your brows furrow in confusion. How was your mother in charge of your own choices. Leon was giving you the choice to reject him and to walk away from the marriage he proposed but alas why would you? He treated you like a queen, his queen.

“She demanded that you spend spring and summer with her in the overworld. And you can stay with me in the underworld during winter and autumn.” He clarified noticing your confusion.

“How about a whole year?” You spoke up with determination laced in your tone.

Leon’s mouth opens slightly and he closes it. “You-“

“I don’t want to be controlled. I’m not a puppet. So yes, I will marry you and become your queen of the underworld.”

That was all he needed. The marriage ceremony as a whole didn’t take long and you were adorned in bridal wear as you stepped onto the Charon’s boat with Leon by your side. Demiter of course threw a fit over it all and demanded that you hold up the deal she made with Leon. Which was the whole catch. She made that deal with your now husband, not with yourself.

The boat ride was far from romantic the screaming souls of the dead pierced your ears but you didn’t mind it. This was going to be your life now and you willingly stepped onto the path that will lead you into the deepest parts of the underworld.

The house of Hades was adorned in reds, oranges and yellows it looked beautiful from old statues all the way to a deserted part in the west wing of the main hall where damned souls waited patiently in line awaiting their judgement.

Leon was quick to lift you off your feet carrying you, bridal style towards his chambers. He was practically attacked by workers under his care to get back to work but the fact that he now held and former Olympian goddess in his arms made them grow silent instantly.

“This will be our bedroom.” He spoke the moment he set you on your own two feet taking the room in.

It was spacious and adorned in memorabilia that just screamed it was his. “It looks lovely…”

“You… you can change it…” He was quick to offer. “However, nothing grows in the underworld, nothing really lives… but you could have gathered as much.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You smile at him and he has that look in his eyes.

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, now the flowers adorning your locks were the ones of a pomegranate. “You are…. Stunning.” He stumbles over the last word. “I just… want you to feel comfortable… and I know there are expectations… to… consummate the marriage but… there is really no need for it. I… do not expect you to…”

“I want to.” You interrupt his speech and you swore you could see a hint of a blush paint his cheeks.

All of your experiences thus far were unpleasant to say the least. You just needed something much nicer to replace the horrors that made Mountain Laurels begin growing among your locks.

“Okay…” He clears his throat. “Um… if you wish to stop at any moment just say so I will stop.” He clarifies as he steps forward his wedding robes perfectly framing his well-built body making you swallow a lump forming in your throat.

He was careful slowly moving his hand to hold your chin and guiding your head to look up at him. Already you had a feeling this will go differently than when you were violated by your own father.

Leon leaned in closer pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. Zeus would never, he would grab you by the throat and basically suck all of the air out of your body with his lips. Leon was so calm, so slow… his other hand moving to gently trace his fingers up your arms and down.

He took hold of your forearm guiding your hand to press it against his chest. He craved your touch. You took his movement as a sign to lift up your other hand placing it on the side of his neck.

The slow and gentle movement of lips began turning a bit more passionate and before you knew it you were pressed against his chest kissing him to the best of your ability. Your arms wrapping around his neck.

Leon lifted you off your feet carrying you to the lavish bed. His lips not moving once from yours as he laid you down on top of it. “You are beautiful.” He speaks his voice turning huskier.

The warmth you felt in your cheeks seemed to intensify as he spoke those sweet words. Your hair was spread against the pillow the petals falling all over the sheets and the floor. It made you feel vulnerable and somewhat uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?” He questions the moment he noticed the shift in your expression.

“I- I don’t know…” You stutter.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no… I…” You sigh your brows furrowing.

Leon stills as he looks at you from above… there was a worried look pooling in his eyes. You could see the cogs turn in his head as he was thinking of a way to make you more comfortable. His blue irises were unfocused and until he looked straight into your eyes with determination.

“How about this…” He speaks as he picks you off the bed and switches places with you. He was now sat on the bed against the headboard and he sat you so you would straddle his lap. “You are the one in control…” He offers and your brows furrow in confusion. “Use my body to make yourself feel good.”

“I can’t do that.” You counter.

“I… want you to. I want you to feel pleasure… and if I can make it more comfortable for your I will…” Your heart warms at his reassurance. “So… use me…” He speaks; his tone was slightly unsure but his eyes were filled with determination.

You were sure you can do this. This man was your husband, kind, thoughtful and desperate to make you comfortable as well as make you feel as safe as he possibly could. So, you reach for his hands and place them on your hips.

You then move your hands to his robes pushing them off his body. His chest was full of battle scars. Some of them mere scratches but some deep and gnarly looking gashes. Your hand traces the scarred flesh and he shivers under your touch.

“They must have hurt…” You speak; your mind enveloped in a trance like state.

“Yours too…” He pulls on your clothing revealing some of the marks you had.

“They are not nearly as bad as yours.” You counter him and he chuckles.

His hand moves a strand of your hair behind your ear and cups your face. “Every scar has a story… we don’t need to compare them to acknowledge the fact that we felt pain.”

You lean in closer to him to place another kiss on his lips. This one was far shorter than when he kissed you and you think of what you wanted him to do. “Undress me.” You order.

His hands move up to push your wedding garments off your shoulders and you notice a slight tremor in his hands. He was nervous, nervous to be intimate with someone, nervous that he will hurt you, even if it was unintentional he would never forgive himself for harming you.

“I… don’t…” You sigh… you couldn’t pick where to start, what to do… how are you supposed to know what you wanted when you were never asked… or were never allowed to express.

“I want to kiss every inch of your skin…” He announces… his cheeks turning a shade darker. “Can… can I?”

A nod of your head and he leans in closer pressing a gentle kiss on your lips then moving lower. The feeling of his lips against your neck made you shiver. You held onto his bare shoulders for support as his lips began moving over your collarbone then over your shoulders.

“Can I go lower?” He asks and you hum in approval. He pushed more of the fabric to the side exposing your bare breasts to the slight chill in the air.

He pressed his lips over your breasts and took one of your nipples into his mouth. Your thighs clench against his from the sensation and your grip on his shoulders grows stronger. Before you knew it his mouth was on the other breast making small whimpers of pleasure escape your lips.

“Me… too…” You sigh… “I want to kiss you too...”

Leon leans back against the headboard giving you access to his chest. You leaned closer placing feather light kiss against his neck. He noticeably shivers and you feel a bulge forming beneath you. You look down and you know what is hiding beneath the fabric of his wedding garments.

“It’s…” He stumbles in his attempt to ease your mind but the moment you placed your hand over it his flinches almost choking on his saliva. Wide blue eyes make contact with yours. Your hand moves up and down along the length.

He was half Zeus’s size in length, about half a foot if you had to be specific, but what he was lacking in length or better yet not lacking considering the monstrosity Zeus carried beneath the thin fabrics Leon made up in grith. It was intimidating, the sheer thickness of it all.

“You don’t… have to…” Leon sighs at your movement, his shoulders were turning blush red as well as his cheeks.

“I want to.” You spoke.

“I want to make you feel good too.” Leon sighs as one of his hands moves up your thigh closer to your center.

“You can…”

His hand moves between your legs, his middle finger running along your slit. “You actually want this…” He spoke… it was as if it surprised him that he could feel your arousal.

You nod confirming… of course you wanted it. You were just scared. That it will be the same as it was before. But no matter what you trusted Leon. Your now husband. Your now king…

His fingers moved more entering your most sensitive place. You moaned as he pumped them inside you. First one, then two… then three… it didn’t hurt unlike when you felt this before and you pant against him. Your forehead leaned against his for support as your breaths mix in between.

Your hand began moving more confidently every stroke deliberate as the two of you pleasure each other. Leon swore under his breath several times and sooner rather than later the movements of your hands were in sync.

“I want to feel you… around me…” Leon spoke up an embarrassed tone hiding beneath the husky desire.

“Me too…” You pant.

“You are in charge.” He reminds you as he removes the fabric covering his length. The angry red tip stood proudly somehow; he looked even thicker than when you could barely wrap your hands around him earlier. Every vein that snaked around his length looked to be deliberate as if his whole purpose as a god was to give pleasure.

But alas he was the god of the dead and not love or sex. Not that it mattered. He helped you line up your hips with his length and was there to help you keep your balance. “Easy… at your own pace.” He reminds you.

You slowly lower your hips and feel the tip entering you. “That… is a lot…” You point out and he holds back a chuckle.

You move lower and get to about half way before you have to pause. The stretch was a different sensation that you didn’t expect to feel tonight. It wasn’t bad just… different. Leon patiently waits for you to adjust and the moment you took him in completely he bottoms out with a throaty moan.

“Fuck…” He groans. “(Y/N)….”

You let out a noise that was a mix between a hum and a whine as you attempted to get used to the thick length inside you.

“You… feel… so… fucking… good.” He pants between each word.

His praises and cloudy eyes make you want to see more of it. What expression he will make if you began moving? What if you moved faster? What if you were in a different position? The possibilities seemed to be endless, and you just had to see all of it…

You move your hips up and down and he forces his hands to grip the sheets, he wanted to touch you oh so desperately but there was that fear. You seemed to be so frail, what if he put too much pressure on your body?

“Leon…” You moan his name desperation hidden beneath the surface of your tone. “Touch me, please.” You plead.

And how is he supposed to say no? His hands move to your hips aiding you in your movements and leaning forward to silence his moans as much as he possibly could by kissing your breasts.

The sound of skin slapping against skin feels the room together with needy moans and pants, you swore the room got so much warmer than when you entered it earlier. It didn’t take long for a strange feeling develop in your stomach.

“Leon… I… feel weird…” You stumble to finish the sentence.

“It’s okay… let it go…” Taking his advice you relax and a sensation of pure ecstasy takes over your whole body. “That’s it… come on your throne…” Leon smiles against your skin. The pure huskiness in his voice makes you shiver. “You, okay?”

Your eyes were clouded with lust and desire. The pleasure was all too much for you to speak in the moment so you nod to answer his question.

Leon flips the two of you so you were laying on your back his length barely moving inside you as he held most of his weight on his arms. “Let me do all the work.” The blush on his cheeks was far darker than when you began consummating your marriage.

His hips begin moving in a slow and steady rhythm making you unravel under his touch. Panting and moaning his name you grab a hold of his shoulders to ground yourself. When his hips begin to move in a more rapid pace your nails dig into his skin and he groans. Each time he moves it feels as if he is reaching deeper into your core.

“L-Leon…” You stutter through the moans.

“You are doing so well… my queen…” He moans into your ear making you shiver yet again. Not even the gods know how many times goosebumps formed on your skin from his voice alone.

You can feel each vein and the moment he is about to reach his peak somehow you could tell he was about to feel the same overwhelming pleasure you felt while you were nested in his lap.

“I wish…” Thrust… “I could…” Thrust… “Give…” Thrust… “You…” Thrust… “A child…” He speaks absentmindedly. “Please come with me…” He begs.

Leon uses one of his arms to rub your clit and it takes seconds to get you to the same state he was in. You mumble under your breath and the both of you reach the climax. You spasming around his length and he deep inside you.

He pants as he leans his forehead against yours. He stayed like that for several minutes before his mind cleared and he picked you up taking you to a bath to clean you up. His bare feet walking over the lose petals that escaped your hair.

 The warm water relaxed your tense muscles as he joined you in the bath seating himself behind you and rubbing a wash cloth over your skin…

“Can I ask you something?” You turn your head to the side so your profile is facing him and you can catch a glimpse of his stunning blue eyes from your peripheral vision.

“Anything…” He speaks as he kisses your shoulder.

“You said you wished you could give me a child… does that mean you can’t?”

He tenses at your question. “No, I cannot.”

“Why?” You lean back against his chest.

He clears his throat. “Nothing grows in the underworld… and since I’m the king I cannot bear children by any means… now unfortunately… the only thing that seem to grow down here is the flowers in your hair…” He explains with a sigh as he reaches for the pomegranate flower that fell from your hair and was now floating in the soapy water…

The revelation saddened you but it still wouldn’t make you change your mind on the decision you have made when you married him. You were now his queen and you wouldn’t dare to break his heart by leaving him especially after all that he had done for you.

It turns out that the abandoned and ghostly west part of the house of Hades was a garden with tainted soil. You spent your alone time in there and on one particular day you buried some flowers into the soil.

Many days later you revisited the garden and there it was a single sprout peaking from the soil. Your hand automatically reaches for your stomach… perhaps… it was not so impossible to grow in the land of the dead.  

[vixenofthemist]

I believe in Abysswalkers mask staying on till the very last moment. I want desperate kisses to be pushed against it bc she can't hold back affection any longer yet it's the last barrier of restraint for them both. I want the mask to brush against inner wrists and thighs. I want it to be electric and SO close yet remain on bc if it came off everything would become so much more. The mask is a restraint. A reminder of duty and honor to Lemuria. A wedding veil that shouldn't come off until the "I Do's" bc if his Beloved Bride cannot wear it in this lifetime he should. It gives him oxygen while preventing him from truly breathing in the ways Lemurians in love are supposed to. In the most romantic and poetic ways possible the mask stays on during sex. Her Highness is stripped bare and open beneath him and he's as clothed as possible because he might have to leave in haste at a moments notice to not be caught in the Princess' bedroom and killed. He's truly a fish suffocating on land while the ocean waves are cruelly wrapping their legs around his waist and begging for him to just dive back in and take in the essence of life back into his lungs- But he's going to have to take his dagger and carve out his own heart one day, and he doesn't know if he could if the ghost of her skin beneath his lips is something he knows in this life. So the mask remains firm and restraining, and desperate kisses beseech he remove it yet also understand he cannot. She wants to get as close as possible still because she wants to drown yet to her the ocean refuses to take her. So she smears her lipstick over the course leather and cries his name with enough air for them both. Too much air for someone open mouth in the current yet still the tides refuse to fill her lungs. I want the mask to stay on till he can't ignore the pleas of his devout follower anymore. I want it to be clawed off but neither know whose hand did it. I want the first kiss Rafayel gives her to be that crashing wave she's been craving that FINALLY pulls her under, while her open mouth fills him with the cleanest breath he's ever taken. They're both now in the sea yet still in the desert; but a Lemurians kiss gives the ability to breath underwater to a human, and to kiss your love is to ease any pain of a Lemurian. And now that the mask is off, the kissing isn't going to end anytime soon. They still have vows to make, and a kingdom to rightfully restore to the Sea God's Dominion. What better way to do so, then for the Princess who keeps everyone in the kingdom alive to force change by marrying the God of the Tides?

[bathroomcryptid]

The Real Housewives of the Imperium: The Scoop on Step-Mothers??

A/N: Sorry for my long absence, life sucks sometimes. But here’s some more bullshit from the Real Housewives universe I’ve cooked up in my head.

Warnings: None

The Dark Angels: When approached for comment on the Dark Lady, two members of the Dark Angels said, and I quote, “Who?”. After explaining that the entire Imperium knows the Dark Lady exists and that they can’t keep pretending that she’s still a secret, they both ran. They’ve been put down as ‘refused to comment’.

The Emperor’s Children: “She’s exemplary in every way. Truly, she is the only one befitting of our Primarch and the title of our Legion Mother. Here look at this painting I did of her.” It was a beautiful painting.

The Iron Warriors: “We’ve only had her for five minutes, but if anything happened to her, we’d kill everyone in the Imperium and then ourselves.” The commenting Iron Warrior was so passionate he broke our microphone and we had to purchase a new one.

The White Scars: After barely catching one, he simply had this to say: “Our Lady Mother is the best.” Before we could ask for further elaboration, the White Scar had run off and we were out of vehicles to pursuit them in.

The Space Wolves: The commenting Space Wolf initially tried to eat the microphone, but after explaining its function and the reason we approached for comment, he had this to say: “The Wolf Mother is unmatched in every aspect. She can fight and drink with the best of them.”

The Imperial Fists: We weren’t able to get a comment as they asked us to leave as Lady Dorn had plans to walk through that room later and they had to fortify it. Apparently, this happens frequently.

The Night Lords: “The Lady has made great progress when it comes to the flaying of our enemies, she no longer faints at the sight of blood-“ The commenting Night Lord seemed to have more to say about Lady Curze, but we here at Imperial News™️ were too scared to find out what and quickly absconded. In the future, we have made note to exclusively ask for comment from the Night Lords via mail.

The Blood Angels: Initially, both commenting Blood Angels looked as if they wanted to kill us for simply mentioning the Mother Angel. After assuring that we ment no harm, they had this to say. “The Mother Angel is our legion’s life blood and the most sacred treasure of our Primarch. In the future, you should be more careful about arbitrarily throwing around the name of our legion mother.”

The Iron Hands: The four commenting Iron Hands were stopped exiting a hardware store. “She’s nothing but a temptress that serves to turn our Primarch’s eye away from far more important and pressing matters.” Commenting Iron Hands confirmed that they were procuring supplies for a glue trap they were going to set up outside the Lady of the Iron Hands’ bedroom apparently in retaliation to her booby trapping the bathroom a few days prior.

The World Eaters: “She doesn’t impede our cause.” After discussing the comment from the World Eater with several experts, we’ve come to understand that this is very high praise.

The Ultramarines: “Lady Guilliman stands without equal. Her mind and wit are unparalleled…she’s also very good at paperwork.” The commenting Ultramarines were very serious about how great Lady Guilliman is.

The Death Guard: Were marked ‘refused to comment’ as they looked like they might kill us after simply uttering their legion mother’s name. We’ve made note to seek future comment regarding the Lady of the Death Guard elsewhere.

The Thousand Sons: “The Red Lady has earned her name. She’s an unparalleled mind, a fierce warrior, and the only person befitting our Primarch. Also, she made us cookies.” The commenting Thousand Sons did share his cookies and they were in fact delicious.

The Luna Wolves: “Lady Lupercal? She’s the best!” “Yeah! There’s no one better for our Primarch!” “She’s the best at everything!” The three commenting Luna Wolves were very enthusiastic when asked to comment on Lady Lupercal.

The Word Bearers: Initially approached us asking if we had heard about our lord and savior, The God Emperor. Upon confirming, yes, we were aware of the Emperor and his feats, we asked about Lady Aurelian. They simply handed us a brochure titled ‘The Goddess of Colchis’ and upon opening it, simply had ‘she’s perfect’ scrawled inside. They said that if we needed more information, they were glad to read to us from the holy texts about her and proceeded to pull out a book the size of two human heads. We informed them that was alright, we had all we needed, and left as quickly as possible.

The Salamanders: Due to the length of the comment as the commenting Salamanders probably sang the praises of the Mother of the Salamanders for actual hours, we were forced to condense it in editing, but in summary: As far as the Salamanders are concerned, their mother pinned the very stars in the sky. She is the best at everything and is unable to do wrong. She is the kindest, gentlest, and most fiercely protective woman you’ll ever meet. She is literally the best and the God Emperor weeps at her feet. - a paraphrasing by Imperial News.

The Raven Guard: After searching for a Raven Guard member for months to make comment on the Raven Mother, we finally found one. After asking about the Lady of the Raven Guard, the Raven Guard member gave a thumbs up before disappearing again.

The Alpha Legion: [REDACTED]

[mywomankatarina]

"𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐍𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭'𝐬"

Sevika x f! reader - 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗲

A = Aftercare:

Sevika isn’t overly affectionate, but she’ll make sure you’re taken care of. She’s the type to light a cigarette, pull you against her chest, and casually run her fingers through your hair. If you’re sore, she’ll smirk and tell you to get used to it—but if you really need her, she’ll wordlessly help clean you up and get you water before lying back down with an arm around you.

B = Body Part:

Her arms. More specifically, her metal arm. She knows exactly how to use it—pinning you down, gripping your throat, or holding you steady while she ruins you. She also has strong thighs, and if you ever get the chance to be between them, consider yourself lucky.

C = Cum:

Sevika loves making a mess. She’s possessive in bed, so if she can mark you, she will. Watching her release drip down your body is a sight she enjoys far too much. If she’s feeling particularly filthy, she’ll make you clean it up yourself while she watches.

D = Dirty Talk:

Filthy. Downright sinful. Sevika’s voice is deep, rough, and intoxicating, and she uses it to get under your skin. Expect plenty of praise mixed with degradation—one second, she’s telling you how good you are, and the next, she’s laughing at how desperate you’ve become for her.

E = Experience:

Sevika has been around—she’s had more than her fair share of lovers, and she knows exactly what she’s doing. She doesn’t waste time, doesn’t hesitate, and is always in control. If you’re inexperienced, she’ll take her time breaking you in—if you’re experienced, she’ll make sure you never forget her.

F = Favorite Position:

Against the wall—holding you up with one arm while she absolutely wrecks you.

From behind—with her metal hand pressing firmly against the back of your neck.

Riding her thigh—watching you fall apart on her while she smirks and takes a long drag from her cigar.

G = Goofy:

Sevika isn’t playful in bed, but she does have a dark sense of humor. If you’re struggling to keep up, she might chuckle against your neck and call you cute before giving you exactly what you begged for.

H = Hair:

She keeps herself well-groomed but doesn’t obsess over it. She’s a practical woman—whatever is easiest to maintain without getting in the way of business.

I = Intimacy:

Sex with Sevika is intense, passionate, and raw, but it’s not always romantic. She sees it as an outlet—a way to release tension. But if she genuinely cares for you, you’ll notice the way her hands linger, the way she presses her forehead against yours, or the way she stays a little longer after it's over.

J = Jack Off:

She doesn’t need to often, but when she does, it’s quick, efficient, and purely for release. Sevika prefers to have a partner, but if she’s away for too long, she’ll handle it herself while thinking about how wrecked she’s going to leave you next time.

K = Kink:

Domination & control – She’s always in charge. Always.

Size kink – If you’re smaller than her, she’s going to use that against you.

Overstimulation – She enjoys pushing you past your limits.

Choking – With her hand or her metal arm—she likes watching you squirm.

Teasing – She loves watching you beg for her, dragging things out until you’re a desperate mess.

L = Location:

She’s not shy about where she takes you. Her room, her office, a dimly lit corner of The Last Drop—as long as she has control, she doesn’t care where it happens.

M = Motivation:

Sevika gets turned on by submission, confidence, and neediness. If you’re defiant, she’ll enjoy breaking you down piece by piece. If you’re already desperate for her, she’ll take her time dragging it out just to see how much you can take.

N = No:

Sevika doesn’t do soft, romantic sex unless she truly cares about you. She also doesn’t tolerate bratty behavior unless she’s in the mood to punish you for it.

O = Oral:

Giving – Sevika is a goddamn expert. She doesn’t just go through the motions—she devours you, holds you still, and doesn’t stop until you’re a shaking mess.

Receiving – She loves it. Watching you on your knees, staring up at her with pleading eyes, is enough to drive her wild.

P = Pace:

Rough, deep, and unrelenting. Sevika doesn’t believe in taking it easy unless she’s in the mood to torture you with slow, drawn-out teasing. Either way, she’s always in control.

Q = Quickies:

Sevika loves quickies, especially when she doesn’t have time for a full night of ruining you. She’ll pull you into a dark corner, have her way with you, and leave you breathless and shaking before heading back to business.

R = Risk:

She’s willing to take risks, but only when she knows she can get away with it. She’s had you up against the wall of a back alley before, hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet.

S = Stamina:

Absolutely ridiculous. Sevika can go all night, and she has no problem pushing you past your limits just to see how much you can handle.

T = Toys:

Sevika enjoys using toys, especially when she wants to push you further than you can handle on your own. If she’s in the mood to be particularly mean, she’ll tie you up and watch you struggle as she takes her time.

U = Unfair:

Sevika is incredibly unfair. She’ll edge you mercilessly, drag things out, and watch you squirm just because she enjoys seeing you beg.

V = Volume:

She’s low and rough, more grunts, growls, and dark chuckles than anything else. But if you get her worked up enough, you might just hear a deep, broken moan against your skin.

W = Wild Card:

She loves biting. Hard enough to leave marks—your neck, your thighs, anywhere she wants to remind you who you belong to.

X = X-Ray:

Built like a goddess of war—all muscle, power, and raw strength. Every part of her is made to dominate.

Y = Yearning:

Sevika doesn’t crave sex emotionally, but if she wants you, she will have you. If she actually cares about you, though, you’ll notice the way her hands linger a little longer.

Z = Zzz:

She doesn’t stay unless she really likes you. If she does, she’ll pull you against her chest and rest her metal arm over your waist, keeping you right where she wants you.

[spencerfuckngreid]

Burning Up || Spencer Reid + 18

· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader · Category: Angst, Smut · Warning: Soft sex, happy ending. · Words: 3082 · Summary : A tension exists between you and Spencer. He actively resists and maintains distance every time you come near. He has an internal conflict between what is right and what is wrong. · Inspiration: Song: "Burning Up" Madonna

· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind! · Masterlist · TikTok

The room was charged with a subtle electricity that always seemed to build between you two. The rest of the team had already left to rest or go over leads in other areas, leaving you alone with Spencer.

You had tried to focus on the files in front of you—the photographs, the scattered notes on the table—but your eyes kept drifting toward him. Seated across from you, hunched over his notebook, Spencer scribbled something with the intensity of someone trying to find a logical way through chaos.

It was that intensity that drew you in—it always had. Spencer had an aura that made him seem untouchable, as if his mind operated on a level no one else could reach. And yet, the more time you spent near him, the clearer it became that there was something beneath the surface. Something vulnerable. Something passionate. Something he worked hard to bury under layers of professionalism.

"Don't put me off, 'cause I'm on fire."

The lyric echoed in your mind, and you bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

"Y/N, are you listening?" His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You blinked, realizing you'd been staring in his direction—though not directly at him. "Yeah, yeah… of course. What were you saying?"

Spencer frowned slightly, adjusting his glasses with a quick motion before pointing at the map spread out on the table. "I said that the profile suggests the suspect will likely return to where it all started. It’s a pattern that—"

"Uh-huh, I get that," you interrupted gently, leaning forward to get a better look at the map. "But what if that’s exactly what he wants us to think? What if he's breaking the pattern on purpose? I know it’s not typical… not a common choice… but at this point, we should at least consider it."

Spencer studied you, his brown eyes scanning you with curiosity. He always appreciated a fresh perspective, but this time, his gaze lingered a little longer than necessary before shifting back to the map.

"Do you wanna see me down on my knees?"

The lyric hit you harder this time, making you press your lips together. There was something about the way he always pulled back whenever you got too close that only made you want to push his limits even more.

"It’s a possibility..." he finally said, breaking the silence. "But the pattern is the only solid lead we have right now."

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as you looked at him, frustrated. "Always so logical, Doctor."

"It’s my job," he replied without looking up, his attention still on the papers.

"And it’s also what keeps you safe, isn’t it?" The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Spencer’s head snapped up. "What do you mean by that?"

"You hide behind logic, Spencer," you said, leaning forward. "It’s your shield. But some things aren’t logical—you can’t just avoid them because they scare you."

He blinked, caught off guard by your bluntness, but before he could respond, you pushed yourself up from your chair. "I’m getting coffee. Do you want anything?"

He shook his head but didn’t say anything else. As you walked out of the room, you could feel his eyes on your back, and it only made you want to turn around and challenge him again.

"I'm burning up, burning up for your love," you thought, clenching your fists as you made your way to the coffee machine.

The words you had thrown at Spencer still echoed in your mind as you waited for the coffee to finish brewing. You had crossed a line, and while you didn’t regret it, you knew he wouldn’t just let it slide.

Back in the conference room, Spencer was exactly where you had left him—except his posture had changed. His back was stiff against the chair, and his pen, usually in constant motion, lay motionless on his notebook. When you closed the door behind you, he looked up, his expression more guarded than usual.

"What was that all about?" His tone was colder than you expected.

"What was what?" you asked, trying to keep your tone light as you walked closer.

"That whole thing about me hiding behind logic." Spencer stood up to face you, adjusting his glasses. "I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but if this has anything to do with—"

"—you and me," you interrupted, setting your coffee down on the table with more force than necessary. "That’s exactly what it has to do with."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to argue. But instead, he looked away, his gaze dropping back to the papers. "There is no 'you and me,' Y/N. This is work, and the only thing that matters is solving this case."

The way he said it—so sharp, so final—should have made you back off. But instead, it only fueled something inside you, a need to break through that carefully crafted façade of perfection.

"Are you really going to keep pretending you don’t feel anything, Reid?" you asked, stepping closer. "That you don’t notice how the air changes when we’re in the same room?"

"What I notice," he started, pushing himself up from his chair, "is that you’re crossing lines you shouldn’t be crossing."

"That you want to want me, but you can't let go," you thought as you watched him. You could see the way his self-control tightened, as if every word was a struggle to hold his ground.

"Maybe those lines shouldn’t be there," you said softly, taking another step forward. You were close enough now to catch the light, clean scent of his cologne.

"Y/N, stop..." His voice was low, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you.

"I can’t stop." You moved even closer, forcing him to step back until his back met the wall. "And neither can you, so stop trying."

He lifted his hands slightly, as if to create some invisible barrier between you, but his eyes betrayed the war raging inside him. "This isn’t right," he said, his voice laced with an intensity that almost made you hesitate. "We can’t do this. I can’t do this."

But he didn’t move away. His hands remained raised—but he didn’t touch you, didn’t push you back. His eyes stayed locked on yours, and the tension in his body was almost tangible.

"Then say it," you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t want—"

His lips parted, like he was about to say the words. But nothing came out. Instead, his breathing quickened, and his hands slowly dropped to his sides.

"That’s what I thought," you said, your tone victorious but laced with quiet softness.

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering every ounce of willpower. "This is a mistake," he murmured finally.

"Maybe." You leaned in just enough so that your face was inches from his. "But some mistakes are worth making."

Spencer took a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself, but it wasn’t working. "This can’t happen," he said more firmly, stepping to the side to put space between you. "Not just because it would be inappropriate, but because… because it wouldn’t work."

You followed him, moving back into his path, challenging every barrier he tried to put up. "It wouldn’t work? Or you don’t want it to work because it would complicate your perfect, structured life?"

"It’s not that!" The words came out too fast, too forceful. He immediately glanced toward the door, as if worried someone else might have heard. Then, in a lower voice, he added, "This isn’t about avoiding complications. It’s about doing the right thing."

"And what if the right thing doesn’t feel right?" you challenged, tilting your head.

"Then we ignore it," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest as if that could shield him from the weight of your words.

"Do you wanna see me down on my knees?"

The lyric echoed in your mind, giving you the push to take this one step further.

"You’re not as good at lying to yourself as you think, Spencer," you said, stepping closer again. "Not with me."

"Y/N," he murmured, and this time, there was something almost pleading in his tone. "Please, don’t make this harder."

"Harder for who? You?" You held his gaze, unwavering. "Because for me, this is simple. I know what I want. And what I want is standing right in front of me."

The color in his cheeks deepened, but his posture remained rigid. "It's not that simple," he said, though his voice no longer carried the same conviction.

"Why not? Why are you afraid of feeling something you can’t control? Why won’t you admit that you’re already feeling it?"

The silence that followed was deafening, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, Spencer stepped back, putting the smallest but most significant distance between you.

"I can’t do this," he said, his voice low, as if each word drained his energy. "Not with you. Not now. I’m sorry."

Disappointment tangled with frustration, but you knew he wasn’t running because he felt nothing. He was running because he felt too much.

"Fine. Have it your way," you finally said, stepping back. "I won’t push you anymore. I just... I can’t pretend this isn’t happening. If you’re ever ready… tell me. But I won’t wait forever."

Spencer looked at you, his eyes reflecting the war within him, the battle he couldn’t put into words. He didn’t stop you as you gathered your things and walked out of the room.

Out in the hallway, you leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly. "I'm burning up, burning up for your love," you murmured to yourself, letting the song finish the sentence you couldn’t say out loud.

—

The hotel room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the small bedside lamp. You had tried to distract yourself with case reports, but the words on the screen blurred into meaninglessness. Every time you closed your eyes, the confrontation replayed in your mind: the conflict in Spencer’s gaze, the way he said no… but also how he hadn’t been able to step away until the very last second.

"Unlike the others, I'd do anything."

The lyrics echoed in your head like a taunt, mocking your attempts to stay calm.

You got up from the bed, unable to stay still. There was something suffocating in the air, a mixture of regret and longing that kept you moving, as if pacing back and forth could silence the thoughts running wild in your head.

Across the hall, Spencer sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His hair was a mess, his glasses sitting on the table beside the phone. He hadn’t even tried to sleep—how could he, after what had happened?

He had gone over every word, every look, searching for a logical angle, a way to make sense of what had transpired. But there was no logic that could save him from what he felt: guilt, yes, but also an unrelenting desire burning beneath his skin.

"This can’t happen," he whispered to himself, as if saying it aloud could make it true. But even as he spoke, his eyes drifted toward the door, as if something—someone—on the other side was pulling him in.

At some point during the night, your paths crossed again. Maybe it was chance, or maybe it was inevitable. When you opened your door to step out for some air, you found him in the hallway, his face pale, his eyes dark.

"Spencer," you whispered.

"I needed… to walk," he said, though it was obvious he was looking for something more than that.

Silence stretched between you, thick with everything neither of you dared to say.

Until finally, he shook his head. "I shouldn’t be here."

"But you are." You took a step closer.

His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, both of you stood frozen, caught in a place with no turning back.

"It’s too much," he admitted in a breath, his voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know how to handle it."

"You don’t have to handle it," you murmured, stepping close enough that he could feel your warmth. "Just… go with it."

Spencer didn’t move, as if fighting every instinct in his body. But when he finally looked up at you, there were no more defenses in his eyes—only raw, consuming desire.

"I can't keep pretending," he murmured, stepping toward you.

"Then don’t," you whispered.

The space between you disappeared in an instant. His mouth found yours with a desperation that stole your breath, his hands gripping your face as if afraid you’d vanish. Spencer had always been methodical, in control—but in that moment, there was none of that. He was pure fire, everything he had suppressed finally unleashed.

Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer as you stumbled backward into the room. The door slammed shut behind you, but you barely noticed. All that mattered was the weight of his body pressing against yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, the low, ragged sounds escaping his throat.

"This is insane," he muttered against your skin, though his lips kept moving along your neck.

"I think you need a little insanity," you teased, breathless, fingers tangling in his hair as his hands roamed your back with a frantic kind of urgency.

For Spencer, this moment felt like crossing a line he had never thought he would. But in the end, he realized he had been standing on the edge of that line since the moment he met you.

The air was thick, heavy with heat. His breath mingled with yours, uneven, as his lips traced your neck, alternating between kisses and gentle bites that made your head spin.

"This isn’t—" he started, his voice a whisper against your skin. But there was something desperate in the way he touched you, as if he needed to feel you, to confirm that this wasn’t just a dream.

There was no time for more words. Spencer’s logic, his self-control, his professionalism—everything unraveled. With a near-violent impulse, you pushed him toward the bed. Clothes—an obstacle neither of you could ignore—began to fall away between kisses and gasps. Every movement was a battle, a push and pull between his deeply ingrained restraint and the undeniable force of desire. But now, in this space, nothing was holding him back.

Your body burned under his touch, and though he tried to keep his distance, his hands betrayed him, exploring every inch of you, his palm gliding over your torso, down to your waist, as if he was finally allowing himself to have you. This wasn’t the distant, controlled Spencer you had known. This was a man on the edge—of need, of madness—consumed by what he felt for you.

"Y/N," he whispered between kisses, his voice raw, as if clinging to your name was the only thing grounding him. "This... I can't..."

You didn’t let him finish. You silenced him with a kiss, deep and hungry, and he laughed into your mouth. There was no case to solve, no walls left to break down. Just the need to be together, no more excuses.

With a determined move, you pushed him back, taking control, feeling the way he yielded under your touch. Spencer was completely in your hands, and for the first time, he didn’t seem to want to fight it. His grip on your back tightened, pulling you against him as if he needed the physical connection, the proof that this was real.

"I don’t know if I can handle what I feel," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. But when his hands found your face and he kissed you with a raw, burning intensity, it no longer mattered what he thought.

You moved with him, and the world blurred away. The softness of the bed beneath you, the heat of his body against yours, the way his lips trailed lower, leaving a path of fire across your skin... The rhythm between you was frantic, yet tender, as if both of you were trying to prove that this wasn’t a mistake, not like Spencer had tried to convince himself before.

Spencer paused for a moment, breathless, exhausted, looking down at you. "Y/N..." Everything was clear in that instant.

"Yes," you whispered, cupping his face, pulling him closer. And in that kiss, nothing else mattered. No words were needed. Everything between you finally made sense.

When the morning light filtered into the room, the silence between you had shifted. Spencer lay beside you, staring at the ceiling as if searching for patterns, lost in thought. Reality had changed—you had changed—and you both knew it. His mind was running a thousand miles per hour.

"I can’t... I can’t promise this won’t get complicated," Spencer murmured, his voice quiet but filled with the resistance that defined him.

"You don’t have to promise anything," you said, turning to face him, resting a hand on his chest, gentle. "What, you expect this to be easy? That sounds boring." You teased.

He gave a subtle, lopsided smile, and somehow it put him at ease, helping him come to terms with the situation.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. Neither of you knew what would come next, but for now, all you could do was accept it. The tension that had defined your relationship until now had transformed into something else entirely.

"You know you got me burning up, baby."

· Requests via DM ·

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Holding It Together

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST 

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,065ish

Summary: It all becomes too much and Logan can tell.

Warning(s): some angst, mental breakdown

Notes: I wrote this because I'm really struggling right now and I wish I had someone to break down to. You can really imagine any type of Logan you want.

Everything had slowly piled on. From every direction. Work. Family life. Your insecurities. The political climate. Your health problems.

On the outside, you forced yourself to seem put together, positive, and okay. But on the inside, you were breaking faster than you could put yourself together. You didn’t want anyone to know how bad it was getting, but someone was slowly seeing the cracks you didn’t know were coming through your facade. 

Logan first noticed when you laughed at one of Scott’s lame jokes one breakfast. It wasn’t as loud as it usually was, more hollow. The next time, he found you zoned out in the library. He watched you curiously for a moment. And before he could go to you, Ororo pulled you out of your daze and dragged you a long to come help her.

Logan noticed that you were being pulled in too many directions. Everyone wanted your help all the time. To collaborate on lessons. To ask questions. To hang out. Or to run trainings and missions. Then there were the family events you were constantly going to when you had time. He couldn’t remember the last time you took a day off or insisted on staying in your room for the night. Logan was growing concerned that you weren’t going to be able to handle all of this much longer.

One night, on his way to bed, Logan saw you in the hall. You clearly didn’t notice him as a few tears slipped down your cheeks and you seemed to head to your room on autopilot.

“Y/N?” He called your name.

You froze and quickly wiped away your tears. “Hey, Logan,” you forced out a smile. 

“Y/N,” he repeated, his tone full of concern as he stepped closer to you. “Are you okay?”

You bit your lip and nodded. “I’m fine.”

His brow quirked. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

He didn’t believe you one bit. “I’ve noticed that you been non-stop lately.”

“It’s just life,” you shrugged.

Logan shook his head. “No, it’s not, sweetheart. This is much more than that.”

You sighed. “I’m okay, Logan.”

“Y/N—“

“I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” Then you disappeared into your room.

~~~

Logan kept his distance the next day but also made sure that you were in his line of sight most of the day. You were holding yourself like the weight of the world was on your shoulders and Logan hated to see you that way. He just wanted you to be happy and relax.

As they day went on, Logan watched you continually put others before yourself in unhealthy ways. You really had no boundaries. When Kitty asked for your help with prepping dinner, Logan stepped in. He had had enough.

“No, Y/N’s going to go rest,” Logan said, placing himself between you and Kitty.

“What?” You questioned. “Logan, I’m fine.”

He turned around to face you. “No, you’re not. Let’s go.” He gently turned you around and began guiding you to your room. 

“Logan—“

“Not hearing it, sweetheart.”

“Logan, please.” Tears collected in your eyes.

“I’m done watching you run on fumes. You’re going to rest and I’ll bring you whatever you need.”

“No.” You pulled yourself from Logan’s grip and spun around to face him. “I can’t, Logan. I need to keep going.”

“You’re going to get sick if you continue on like this.”

“I have to keep going. If I don’t… Just, please, Logan. I’m fine.”

He shook his head. “No. I’m not dropping this. You’re running yourself to the ground and I can’t stand by and watch it anymore.”

“There’s just so much,” you admitted quietly, allowing the tears to fall. “If I help everyone else, I don’t have to think about it.”

“Sweetheart…” He stepped closer and carefully cupped your face in his large, rough hands. “Ignoring the problems are just going to make it worse. Trust me, I’m the king of doing that.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just all too much, Logan… It’s all too much.” You broke down into sobs and Logan quickly pulled you into him, holding you close.

“I got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 

Gently, Logan picked you up and carried you the rest of the way to your room. He tried to set you down on your bed but you gripped him tightly. He toed his boots off as he held you before moving to lay on the bed. 

“You can’t keep going like this, sweetheart,” he told you as you cried against him. “You’re wearing yourself down and it’s hurtin’ me to see.”

“I’m sorry,” you cried.

He shushed your apology. “Don’t do that.”

“Everything’s just so overwhelming… I’m so alone and I don’t know how to handle any of it.”

“I’m not goin’ to let you handle it alone anymore. I’m right here for you, sweetheart.”

You pushed yourself up to try to get off of Logan and shook your head. “No, I can’t put my burdens on you, Lo—“

“Stop that.” He pulled you back against him. “You can’t keep your burdens to yourself any longer. I’m here and willing.”

“Why?”

Logan looked at you and hesitated. How could he possibly tell you that he had a major crush on you when you were at such a low? He would have to wait and be okay with just being a friend for now.

“Because, sweetheart, I care about you,” he responded. “And I’m your friend. Let me help.”

You nodded. “And it all… won’t scare you away?”

“Never, darlin’. Nothing you could say would ever scare me away from you.”

Your breath caught at his words and the look in his eyes. You could see that he was serious and that there was something else behind it. You didn’t push though, not in the right mindset.

“I need you to stop holding it all in, sweetheart,” Logan continued. “I need you to be straight with me and allow me to help you.”

“I don’t know where to even start, Logan… Just the thought of any of it… I get emotional and I—“

“Calm down, darlin’. Breathe. We don’t have to talk about anything right now. Whenever you’re ready.” He kissed your head. “Right now, let me just hold you. Okay?”

You let yourself sink into him further, tears still slipping from your eyes. “What if I fall asleep?”

“Then I’ll hold you until you wake. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

[sheepispink]

Is this a Date? ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི lt ghost x baker!reader, part of the Sweet as Sugar Series

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Summary: after your past hesitance, Simon asks you out on more of a silly date than a romantic one. Nonetheless, he begins to realise just how much you two really feel for eachother

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི a/n: fair warning that all the arcade games in this are based of the ones i go to, which are british obvs, so accurate? yes. particularly fun? probably not. Also i said chips but i know some of yall will call it fries. chips is the british word thanks for coming to my ted talk <3

PREV NEXT

———

Finally, Simon would be taking you out properly, just like he’d been trying to hype himself up to do for nearly three weeks. He gave you some time since you confessed your anxious thoughts to him, but you’re already feeling a lot better, practically radiating like the sun.

”Are you busy this week?” He considered texting you the question, but he was sitting in the cafe with you again and he just couldn’t wait any longer, half tempted to drag you out with him today.

You’re sitting opposite him in the empty shop, the closed sign bumping against the door. “Hmm.. don’t think so. My parents are taking over to give me a break.” He watches you eye the biscuit tin you leave out for him no matter how many times he insists that he doesn't always eat them, and passes you a bourbon. Your lips quirk up, a soft grin as you take a large bite into the chocolate biscuit, crumbs on your lips.

”A break huh? Well, if you haven't planned anything yet then why don't we go out?” You perk up instantly at that, a light clang of the teaspoon you just dropped on the table echoing out as the possibilities run through your head. Sure, you went to the farm and the winter festival with him, but actually going out? ..Is this a date?

“Where would we go?”

Before you know it, it’s Thursday and he’s wrapped you up in his jacket, the one he knows you love. Since you seemed to have such a great time at the festival, he figures he’d play it safe this time and take you to everyone’s favourite destination— the arcade. His decision is right, of course, confirmed by your eyes brightening as you step out of his car and he has to convince you to let him lock the car first before you start dragging him inside.

“Oooh! Let’s do the shooting!” You exclaim, pulling him along to the little booth and he picks up the fake gun, eyeing it with slight distaste. It’s not close to a real gun in the slightest, but he pushes that thought away as you grab the gun and pull a playful pose, pretending to look through the scope. “Alright, alright.” He places the coins into the slots, watching as the zombies start to approach.

Turning his brain off becomes increasingly easier with you, especially as you aren't afraid to express yourself or act the slightest bit silly, yelling at him to get the ones approaching you on the right. “Simon! I’m gonna die!” You squeal, still pretending your very best to act like a proper fighter as you dramatically move the gun around to aim at all the approaching enemies. “Got your back, love.” He mutters, already forgetting that these games are practically light work compared to anything he’s ever done before, his eyes locked onto the screen as he destroys anything coming your way. By the end of it, you’ve got your hands in the air as you cheer and even he’s grinning wide as possible.

What he didnt expect for you to call out to a random stranger, the woman’s head turning to your voice. “Excuse me, can you take a picture of us?” He has no time to argue, you’re already pulling the fake gun up to your face like some kind of secret agent all while he can hold it across his chest like he does on missions. The woman smiles and returns your phone, only for you to drag him away before he can say anything else.

The pair of you continue through the arcade, him even laughing when you fail to keep up with the dance game you insisted you were brilliant at. It’s not your fault he sneakily picked the hard mode to watch you scramble to get all the notes, but he won't admit that. Next, you drag him over to the air hockey table, a mischievous look on your face as you begin to rack up points like they’re nothing (only because you screamed “Ow!” and he immediately dropped his pusher). “That’s cheating.” You watch his eyes narrow and his stern voice comes through, and you immediately panic like a deer in headlights, eyes so wide you don't notice him pushing the puck straight into your goal. “Hey!”

This time he pulls you along, leading you to a new side of the arcade since it recently got refurbished and towards a booth that has a target behind the barrier. Curious, you raise an eyebrow before looking at the sign above. “Try beating me now.” Damnit, you know he’s smirking behind that mask and you’d be damned because watching him hurl every axe to the centre of that target had to be the definition of attractive. Unlike you, where the axe bounced off the target altogether whilst he tried his best not to stifle his laugh. It really was quite comical, the way you huffed under your breath as it continued to miss, only grazing the edge before bouncing off again. “I-it’s not funny!” He’s had to turn away from how hard he’s laughing right now, and you’re half tempted to give him a fake punch for that though you know he’d only just laugh harder. “Sorry, i’m sorry, i’ll teach you.”

He steps behind you, his hands curving over yours to help fix your lousy form into one that will definitely produce some better results. Well, at least it sticks this time.. on the edge of the target that is. “Simon!” You exclaim as he bursts out laughing again, thankful for his mask as his face is practically burning hot now. “Okay, okay—“ He adjusts you again, helping you tilt your arm back enough and aim it at the centre. Slowly stepping back, he signalls you to throw it. Your brows furrow as you concentrate, arm going a little further back before you throw it forward and it finally hits directly on the bullseye. “I did it! Look—“ You cheer, instantly spinning around to throw your arms tight around his middle as if it was something you’ve done a million times before, like it was something you’d have done for years. The touch immediately fries his harshly trained nerves, the muscles in his stomach tensing as he looks down at the sight of you squeezing him as hard as you possibly can— he can't say his stomach did not flip at least a little. You seem to notice, eyes quickly glancing up at him. Though, before you can stammer out an apology, he scoffs and pinches your cheeks. “Took you long enough.”

———

Exhausted from your escapades, he takes you to a diner. Well it’s barely anything like actual American diners but they make good burgers, so who can complain? You order your usual, and when Simon sees you eye the milkshake options for too long you end up with a tall glass of it in front of you. Meanwhile, he decides to go for something new for once, figuring the description was exaggerating, before he ends up with a giant hunk of a burger before him. “Oh.” The sight has you giggling far too much.

“Those two idiots knocked out right on me. You’d think they’re kids coming back from playcare the way they fall asleep anywhere.” He huffs, describing to you the less gruesome details of his recent deployment.

“Hmm.. Soap is the one with the mohawk right? And Gaz… the one who wears a cap all the time?” You ask, snickering from his story and he nods along, confirming your questions.

“Soap looks lively— well by what I've seen anyway. You said Gaz got his name for being quiet huh? I bet he’s one of those types who randomly have the best quips?”

Simon smiles behind the mask, intrigued by your new captivation about his teammates. Sure, he’s used to talking with you about whatever, just as he is with others. But he never really talked about himself much, at least not more than a few opinions on what he liked— he was far more interested in whatever you’d say. He just never considered you’d be so interested in what he’d say too. You’ve asked before, and he never paid much attention, but now you’re even remembering things from past conversations and expressing intrigue in his life. He might need to step outside to breathe properly again.

”Yeah, he’s definitely that type. Johnny barely wins an argument with him around; I think Cap’ even has a hard time defending himself.” You giggle again, stealing some of the ketchup from his plate with a swipe of your chip. “Do you see them all the time?”

“Yeah. Practically have our rooms right beside each other. We watch the football games in the common room.” He rolls his eyes when you coo at him, saying “aww” and smiling wide at him like he’s a kid who made his first friend or something. You really are an exception huh? He can’t even get all that mad at you when you look at him with curiosity swirling in your eyes.

“Why don't you come down with them sometime? You can bring them to the bakery.” You hum, licking the ketchup off your lip as you chomp down on your last bite of the burger. For some reason, he thought you were joking— would you really entertain a bunch of random men just for the sake of them being his friends? It didn't make sense; you didn't even know them, nor had you met more than one either. ”Pretty sure Johnny would eat all your pastries, love. It’s not worth it.”

“Well, I guess I'll just have to make extra that day then. I’m serious, y’know? Bring them around at your usual time, I'll have tea and the pastries ready.” Now that was unexpected; you were actually willing to give up some of your time to welcome his teammates, ones that he’s never even introduced you to before. Wait— did you think he was rude for not introducing you before?

”I did plan to introduce you at some point— they’re just… busy.” Wow, he actually fumbled his words for once, at this rate his chest will falter as well with the rate you keep surprising him with your genuineness. “Huh? I know, I just thought it’d be nice for them to relax a bit, have something sweet.” You hum, sipping your milkshake he bought for you, before passing the glass over to him and for some reason he doesn't hesitate, slipping your straw beneath his mask as he takes a sip himself.

He ignores the taste of your lipgloss that lingers.

—————

He drives you home soon after, walking you all the way up to your apartment door. You start slipping off your shoes, the time already growing late since you had only gotten to the arcade at five o'clock. He stands awkwardly in the doorway, knowing he should probably say his goodbyes and leave now— because he’s not yours, and you're not his.

Yet.

Your head turns, a brow raised at him curiously. “Won't you come in?” His words clog in his throat, wondering if he should accept the offer. Surely you’d be heading to sleep soon enough anyways, wouldn’t it only be an inconvenience to keep you up any longer? He’s conflicted, wanting to leave you be but ever since the last time he was here, he’s thought about your home more than he’s yearned for a second of rest, which is very often.

“It’ll be late if you drive all the way back to base now. You can just crash on my couch again.” Your hand finds his sleeve, pulling him inside before he can utter a sound against you, and closing the door behind him. “Thanks for today by the way. ..Do you wanna get brunch tomorrow too?”

He thought dating was meant to be taken slow, something that’d develop over weeks and dates were planned apart. Well, that’s how everyone said it worked. Now here you were, not even parting for him and asking for more of his time. Trying to hide the swelling of his pupils is impossible and he has to bend down to undo the laces on his shoes just to try. “Is that even a question? Of course.”

He stands once more, but you’re looking at him with lovestruck eyes, affection pouring out of every crevice as you grin and hug him again for the second time that day. “I knew you wouldn't say no. I’ll make us some tea after I get changed.” Your eyes crinkle again sparkling with something you don't even attempt to hide before you step on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek where the mask doesn't quite cover.

Oh, so that’s what that look was—cheekiness, huh? Especially when you run away after that, scurrying into the bathroom as you snicker to himself. He looks up into the mirror in the hallway, realising his eyes have been struck wide.

————

You wander into the kitchen to start brewing the kettle, dressed in your favourite pajamas already whilst he heads to the bathroom to freshen up. He stares into your mirror, lingers of black paint still clinging onto his lashes. Should he take off his mask? It’s not like you haven't seen him sipping from his drink before, or even that time he fell asleep on the couch without pulling it down again. His fingers linger on the fabric, hesitating as his heart churns with the need to drop everything right now for you. His brain screams at him to act rationally but his gut tells him to take it slow, else he scares you off altogether. He sighs, conflicted, before a flash of light appears in the corner of his eye. Your phone had been left behind on the windowsill, a notification lighting it up. He picks it up so he can hand it back to you, only for it to flash again, the lock screen the picture of the two of you posing with your fake guns, your hand doing bunny ears behind his head. His own sits in his other hand, the picture of you with his stupidly oversized burger held up to your mischievous face flashing to life.

Maybe not today. But he’d definitely get you back for the surprise kiss, stepping out of the bathroom to sneak up behind you as you grab the milk from the fridge.

————-

PREV NEXT

Taglist:

@hidden-treasures21 @bieberismysoulmate @gallantys @tessakate @galactict3a @krispymagazinepizza-blog @silas-aeiou @kupids-arrow @enfppuff @oydan @keytofu @vogueprincess

[liminalweirdo]

Image id under the cut

1: Rainbow letters reads, "How to resist an oligarchy," [Image shows five differently coloured people-shapes smiling and raising their arms in the air.]

2: "Oligarchy: a small group of people having control of a country, organization, or institution." [Image shows Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, and Jeff Bezos.] Text continues: "Their goal: For us to be overwhelmed, to ignore/avoid the growing information, and to feel helpless. "Our goal: Learn and focus on what we CAN do instead of why we can't.

3: Quiet Subversive: If your calling is hiding ppl, driving women to clinics, mailing BC, or any illegal morally good activity, be paranoid. Social media is not your friend. Zuck, BlueSky, etc. will sell you out. In ordr to be a Jane, you have to assume your life, lives of your family/friends, and lives of the ones you are helping are in mortal danger. As soon as you blast, "I'll hide Ann in my attic," you are no longer safe and not useful for this kind of work." [An image of an elderly woman holding a tray of cookies. She is all coloured in yellow.]

4: Distributer: "This can be done by printing info, or providing online links. For groups and orgs that can take the heat, such as Planned Parenthood, sharing and boosting their posts can be helpful. If your calling is to print up red cards/make pamphlets, then anywhere you place this info is going to be targeted for destruction of materials. Regularly drop off info and find new ways to get the word out. For smaller groups that need to stay somewhat obscure, be selective about sharing info." [An image of a purple person handing out red cards to several other people coloured in purple.]

5: Financial Supporter: "Every dollar has a potential to do good. If you are able to put money towards a small business, especially if they are run by marginalized persons or groups, please do." [A purple image of a person in a small booth.] "The billionaires won't be hurt and it won't stop them from aligning with fascists but it will put money into hands of those needing to escape, needing aid, or in the hands of the above mentioned resisters. [Photograph of a group of people holding a Planned Parenthood banner. Drawing with an orange background with several different types of people holding rainbow flags. White text reads: Trevor Project: Saving young LGBTQ Lives"]

6: Church Goer: Historically, churches/synagogues/mosques/temples have been a safe-ish place to gather in large grops and organize. Anyone familiar with the history of black churches, or churches under fascism, know there is potential for great good but also a risk of the church being burned, raided, bombed, or leaders being rounded up. Whether you are a theist or atheist, consider finding a community that can gather and organize in large groups and become a regular contributing member. As of 1/22/2024 ICE is legally allowed to raid churches, hospitls (sic), and schools under illegal immigrant suspicion. They need a JUDGE ISSUED WARRANT. You ARE legally allowed to look at it and demand it. [Several images of various places of worship]

7: Educator: "These come in many forms: building, first aid, critical thinking, self defense, fact checking, science, map reading, psychology etc. Anything that can help the quiet subversive, the information distributer (sic), the marcher etc. etc. be more effective; keep up the good work of long threads and videos. If you are not an expert, share media and videos from credible experts." [An image of several different coloured people (green, red, blue) in various clothes indicating careers such as camouflage, medic gear, professor]

8: Volunteer: "Soup kitchens, shelters, anywhere and everywhere people or animals are in need. Any and all good works towards our neighbors is resistance." [Image of several differently coloured people receiving food from blue coloured people at a yellow soup kitchen]

9: Marcher: "Marches can be used for paying attention to which groups are attending. Any group showing up with a banner is putting a giant target on themselves and they are going to need support. Volunteering with, or sending money helps them to continue showing up. The focus of a march is disruption which can potentially lead to becoming a target. Don't bring your phone. Don't share faces. Bring water and medical supplies. Be prepared to be pepper sprayed, smoke bombed, hit by a baton, harassed if your face is passed around among fascists, and/or arrested/imprisoned." [Images of people at protests either facing away from the camera or with faces blocked out]

10: Rest: "Rest can be resistance. From what I understand, it is about self care for the long haul. For more information, I recommend reading "Rest is Resistance" by Tricia Hersey" [Image of Rest is Resistance by Tricia Hersey] [Image of a yellow-coloured person wearing cozy clothes and holding a pencil over a notebook] "Create: Paint, write, draw, graffiti, design, music, videos, comedy. If you are a creative person, use it to spread awareness, help raise funds, etc."

[end id]

#Repost @gogreensavegreen

You might be more than one. You might be different ones at different times. 🫶🏽🫶🏽 you might not be one of these. There are more roles 💪🏽 but this is an amazing intro.

You can’t just like the idea and envision yourself in one of these roles you have to figure out how to be about it ♥️🫶🏽

Via @deiloh & @fablefulart

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy XIII

a yandere art professor John Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... (also featuring Matt from River's Edge. If you haven't seen the movie that's ok, I will fill in the gaps as we go...) warnings: dark adult themes, violence, sex, drugs, yandere shit. plz don't read if u can't handle it ->chapter map

XIII.

-You thought you’d done a good job talking yourself up to it, but you are so embarrassed, when you get up on the model stand, and it's time to start class…and you simply can't do it. You freeze, absolutely unable to bring yourself to take off your robe, to expose yourself again after your near brush with…whatever the fuck those creeps intended to do with you. 

“I…”

You don't even know where to begin to explain. You wait for John to say something cutting or sarcastic. To be a jerk about it, annoyed that you're stalling his class.

You watch warily as he approaches the model stand, hands in his pockets, the very picture of the brooding artist. Yet when he looks up at you…there’s an empathy in his dark eyes that squeezes your heart with a fist. He could have pushed you over with a feather when he asks, “Are you alright, y/n?”

Sadly, you shake your head, hugging yourself. “I’m…not sure I can do this right now. I'm so sorry.” You sway on your feet, and he must sense something wild inside you, a mare threatening to bolt, or a statue ready to tumble, because he holds up his hands as though to steady you–those large, eloquent hands with their impossibly long fingers.

You don’t know what possesses you, when you take his fingers in yours, holding on to him like he is a life line. They’re strong, and calloused, and for the first time since waking up after your mishap you feel somewhat anchored to the world around you. 

He lets you hold on to him, his expression softening for you the way it used to, before you had your heated little tiff over Matt’s work. His voice is low, and calming, acting like a balm for your troubled soul. 

“That's ok, y/n. It's your choice. Do you maybe think you could sit for us with your robe on?”

You think about it a few moments before nodding. 

“Alright.” He squeezes your fingers encouragingly. “Let's do some warm ups, then we'll pick a pose.”

You nod, and somehow, this small gesture of support empowers you again to do your thing. 

- You're not sure how he knew you needed it, but in the end you decide on a reclining pose. John produces blankets and pillows from the closet to make you a comfortable nest on the otherwise hard model stand, and you hate to admit it, but…you fall asleep. 

You haven't been sleeping well, and something about being here in this place you love, rather than your cold and lonely apartment fulfills something you've been missing the past few weeks. 

By some miracle, as though even your sleeping brain knows, you do not move from your position even in slumber. It takes a gentle hand upon your ankle to rouse you,  and you wake with a start to find John standing over you. 

The room is empty of students; through the windows you can see that night has fallen outside. Fuck.

“I'm so sorry,” you immediately apologize, bolting up right. The class ends at six. How much longer did you keep him here?

“It’s ok,” he says in his soothing baritone. “Are you…ok, y/n?”

You look at him looking at you so earnestly with those infinite dark eyes–it ties you up in knots, and you feel like you can't hide a thing from him. Like…he already knows, and just wants to give you an outlet to talk about it, if you want. 

“Something …bad happened at the Monster Masque,” you admit in a whisper, looking fixedly at the corner of your blanket beneath you. “I've just…felt weird, ever since.” 

His frown is like a thunderhead, forbidding and beautiful. “Do you need help, y/n?”

You shake your head. “No. I think…the matter is closed.”

“Oh?”

“I think…someone took care of it for me.”

“Who?”

“I…don't know. Maybe someone I met at the ball. I think…” You look to him, drowning, and you can't help but compare his stare to the black satin shine of your Lone Wolf’s eyes. Dear lord, do you have a type. “I think he saved me.” 

John lifts a single dark brow to this. “Sounds like you have a guardian angel, y/n.” 

A shaky little laugh escapes you. “Yeah.” You think that guardian demon might be more likely, but you don’t say it aloud. 

When you dismount from the modeling stand the concrete floor is shockingly hard and cold beneath your feet; your leg tingles with pins and needles, having fallen asleep. You take a step and would have stumbled–-but John catches you, holding you in his strong arms. 

You swear you didn’t do it on purpose, but you find it’s a very nice place to be. There is something hauntingly familiar about being held like this, tucked against his chest with his arms around you. You look up at him from so very close, and you realize something is different. 

“You cut off your beard,” you say, maybe with way more wonder in your voice than the observation actually warrants, but there's something about being able to see the sharp lines of his jaw that moves you to your toes. 

“I trimmed a little.” He doesn't scold you for staring at him like a star struck idiot. He seems…content, to stand like this with you, while you are reeling in this bottomless freefall into deja-vu.

He has a distractingly beautiful mouth, lips full and infuriatingly kissable. You cannot tear your eyes from the lower half of his face; the sum total of its lines strum some forgotten chord inside you.

Is it possible?

Your memory is so fractured from that night. Nothing is clear amidst the bits and pieces that remain to you. The gaps are large as a canyon in your mind, yawning fissures in the landscape of your memory. Whatever those boys drugged you with…it really fucked you up, and just thinking about it makes you want to hide under John Wick’s chin and not come out for a week. 

You decide that you are wishfully projecting your hopes onto this man. That he had much better things to be doing on Halloween, than masquerading around in an animal costume just to flirt with you. 

“Have you been eating, y/n?” he asks, squeezing your sides gently. You suppose he remembers how much padding you had from the last time you were in his hands. The memory of that lightning-charged squabble compared to how he handles you now makes you weak all over again. 

You shrug, embarrassed for some reason. “Not…well.” 

He nods, because he already knew the answer. “Come home for dinner with me.”

“I…would hate to bother you.” Deep down you want to say yes, and yet you cannot shake the dogged mantle of your hesitance. 

“No bother. I think it would be good for you.” 

He's being polite, yet there is a firm insistence in his tone that leaves no further room for argument.

“Okay.” You manage to keep the tremor out of your voice as you agree, and you decide to give yourself a point for bravery. Your score’s been running in the negatives lately, and maybe this will be good for you.

Or maybe you'll ruin it, the way you ruin everything, eventually.

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[itertarot]

TAROT | YOU

How can you practice self love:

Pick an image:

Pile 1:

You’re a very practical person, my Pile 1. You need to practice self-love by keeping your feet on the ground. Stability is essential for you, and it’s important to live in the present, avoid getting lost in fantasies or planning without taking action. Routine is key, and for some of you, even having a spreadsheet or diary to track daily tasks can be incredibly helpful. Take care of your finances. Where are you spending your money? Are you earning enough? How can you improve your financial life? Stability is closer than you think, and this is an area where you can make meaningful progress. For some of you, it’s important to avoid impulsiveness and unnecessary conflicts. It’s okay to speak your mind, but do so in a grounded way. Remember, attacking someone’s ideas isn’t the best way to change their perspective. Others in this pile need to cut out things that are holding you back from growth, but be mindful of what you’re removing. Take care in the process.

Practice patience, my dear Pile 1. Engage in slow activities, try meditation, gentle exercises, or walks in quiet places. Slow down your brain and avoid overstimulating programs or apps. When was the last time you read a book? Do you think you could pass an exam right now if needed? Is your brain being treated right?

You can benefit from seeking knowledge, joining a community, or starting a new course. Your mind is craving to learn and expand. Turn inward and do the inner work. Search inside yourself for what you truly desire and who you truly are, not who you’re supposed to be. Also, my Pile 1, do small things that make you happy. Take time to do what you enjoy, even if it seems meaningless or like a waste of time. Go watch that movie you’ve been procrastinating on, start that hobby you always put aside, or buy that decor or clothing item you’ve been wanting. Pamper yourself a little it’s okay to spend money on yourself sometimes.

Pile 2:

(You could watch the Tinker Bell movie)

Hello, Pile Number 2, how are you?? Darling, do you know how you can practice self-love? By giving! Do you have things you no longer use? Things that are just taking up space in your home? You can benefit from donating to people who will make good use of what no longer serves you. For some reason, Marie Kondo came to mind, maybe you should look into the KonMari method to organize your home, because organization and donation are important for this pile. You can also engage in social projects.By helping, you receive, that’s the motto here. You are good people, and for some of you, the number 6 might be significant, perhaps in numerology, or maybe it’s a number you like or that holds some meaning for you. Nurture your feelings, keep being good people without fear of getting hurt. Unfortunately, not everyone will appreciate you for who you are, not everyone is good, but don’t let difficult people or situations harden your heart. Allow yourself to feel and be affectionate. There’s nothing wrong with being sentimental.

What skill are you good at? What do you want to learn? Learn it now! For some of you, this includes hands-on work like painting, gardening, or anything that involves creating with your hands. Unleash your creativity! Fill yourself with ideas and let them flow. Write a book, paint a picture, try something new, anything you want, no matter how crazy it seems!

Step out of your comfort zone. Plan for the future: travel, career, where you want to be in 3 months, what short-term goals you want to achieve, etc. Take the leap! Be courageous and determined. Don’t let fear stop you from shining!! But, just like Pile Number 1, be mindful of impulsiveness and how you communicate with others. Avoid unnecessary fights and strive to express yourself clearly and non-aggressively.

Pile 3:

My dear Pile 3, you have so much pain to deal with right now. You need to mend your broken heart! Allow yourself to feel the pain, but don’t get stuck in it. Grieve and release what hurts you. I’m sorry for what you’ve lost, and if you’re feeling hopeless, I understand. But you need to look at what you still have and what you can achieve. Look around you and see what’s waiting for you. Remember: "The past is history, the future is a mystery, but today is a gift." Recognize how strong you are, and be proud that you’re still here. Give yourself some credit, even through hardship, you’ve managed to come this far. Don’t be afraid to stand up for yourself and set boundaries. You deserve to be treated with dignity.

Do small things that make you happy. Drink a cup of coffee or tea, bake a delicious cake, watch a comedy or rom-com, or listen to fun, uplifting songs. Take small steps toward happiness, it will slowly help you heal your broken heart. Also, connect with people who love you: your partner, family, best friends, or anyone who can support you. Accept help, you are worthy of being loved! Also, i heard that someone here feels like there's no one by yourself, but darling you have someone waiting for you, even if you didn't meet them in the 3D.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel and a whole world waiting for you to discover it.

Pile 4:

Similar to Pile Number 3, you’re also dealing with some heartbreak, Pile 4. Maybe something in your life has ended, or perhaps you’ve been struggling with depression. Whatever it may be, know that you are strong, and the universe has something much better in store for you. Accept change and surrender to destiny.

What do you want in life? What kind of connection do you crave? For some of you, an important message is this: to have a real connection, whether it’s a soulmate, twin flame, or deep bond, you need to let go of connections that no longer fulfill you as you need. I truly believe most of you are already doing the work and staying strong. Very logical personalities here. Keep standing up! You love yourself by respecting yourself. You can also seek help if you’re feeling lonely or left behind. Remember, a bad day is not a bad life, nor can a bad week or bad months define your life. You will be happy again, this is just a difficult moment.

Love yourself as a whole, every part of you. Your personality, your looks, your body, your hobbies, the way you behave, speak, and think, all of it. Love yourself. Recognize that you are THAT GIRL and step into your power. Nurture yourself. Do skincare, take care of your hair, go on picnics, do a fantasy or cottagecore photoshoot, enjoy your clothing style, buy gifts for yourself, bake a cake, paint something, or try gardening. For some reason, I also see making a gin too. Someone here can enjoy making drinks.

Start again. And good luck🤍

[vampiriito]

Pillow talk and the fifth amendment (2)

(JJ Maybank x pogue! reader x Rafe Cameron ) ..in which you found yourself torn between two worlds when your best friend, JJ Maybank, who you've been in love with since forever starts dating Kiara. In a jealousy haze you start hooking up with Rafe Cameron, the infamous kook prince. Do you manage to keep everything casual and under control? No, is it fun? Also kind of no, given you hate yourself each time you managed to orgasm. And especially since Rafe's favorite activity is to pick on you and your friends outside the bedroom..

"Casual"

variants or less commonly friends with benefits or fuck buddies

chiefly US

"A relationship without any strings attached, no need for feelings or emotions just something to do when you're bored. No loyalties so can be with multiple people if would like to. Rather than having a relationship that focuses on the emotional needs, this type of relationship is based only on sexual needs. In between boyfriends? Feeling restless? Horny? Lonely? Jealous of your best friend dating someone else? It's at this time when you call up your your "friend" and fullfill the "obligations" of a casual relationship. During this, you are fullfulling your sexual needs. "

Smoking weed has always been your favorite past time. Especially with JJ. It made things more intense. You always felt like you and JJ had more tension than usual when you were high, more prone to kissing. That was until he started dating Kie 3 months ago. It was never the same. It became a way to get yourself to feel more paranoid and jumpy, more irritated. Especially when in front of you JJ was sitting cuddled up with Kiara, whispering shit in her ear and then disappearing to makeout or do other stuff. It was hell truly.

Still, here you were. Smoking weed with the pogues on the HMS pogue out in the water on a awfully hot day. The blunt was passed around on the boat, John B and Pope arguing about something while Sarah next to her boyfriend chiming in from time to time. It was worse for you. Kiara and JJ were sitting next to each other giggling like dumbasses and sharing a bottle of beer while high out of their minds, while you sat next to Sarah, only half listening to the playful banter. Mainly cause of the talk JJ had with you 3 days ago at the party, about wanting to kiss you and such. It felt like a cheap drunk set-up and you felt used. Although you didn't bring it up to him. You had no right and it would make it weird. Weirder than it already was.

JJ was high and buzzed, both the alcohol and weed mixing together in his system. He was feeling good and giggly, and his mind was occupied half the time on what his friends were talking about, and the other half the time completely focused on Kiara who was sitting next to him, pressed up against his side with her arm wrapped around his waist. As they whispered to eachother, and shared little giggles about random inside jokes they had and secret comments, JJ couldn't help but glance over at you and Sarah every now and then from the corner of his eyes.

He continued to glance in your direction here and there, noticing the slightly bitter look on your face as you smoked the joint with Pope and John B. He couldn't tell if you were just in a bad mood, or if there was also something else bothering you, but he didn't want to assume anything. His attention was soon grabbed back to Kiara, as she whispered something in his ear and her fingertips played with the waistband of his shorts.

He let out a low chuckle in response to whatever Kiara had whispered, his eyes flickering back to you for just a moment.

"You're a menace, you know that," he replied, looking down at her with a smirk. He let his gaze wander around the boat, taking in the relaxed atmosphere and the bickering between John B and Pope about some nonsense as they passed the joint around. His eyes landed on you once more, seeming to linger there for a few seconds longer this time.

He couldn't stop himself from thinking about what had happened between the two of you a few days back at the party, and wondered what you were thinking about. Did you regret doing that? Did you hate his guts for talking to you the following day like normal and being all drunk and stupid at the party? His thoughts were interrupted when Kiara spoke up to him again, her voice bringing him back to the present and the little pocket of reality on the boat.

"Hey, earth to JJ.." She gently elbowed him in the side, her voice filled with playful annoyance. "I was saying that we should find a secluded spot for a little while."

He glanced back at her and smirked, his mind already going to what she was suggesting.

He chuckled and nodded, turning his head towards her. "Oh yeah? And what exactly are you planning on doing once we find this secluded spot, hm?"

He spoke with a grin, his voice lowering as they continued to speak just to each other, ignoring the others around them in their own little world again.

She smirked back at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, you know... Just a little bit of... Exploration."

She let her fingers wander back up to the waistband of his shorts, playing with the fabric and tracing her fingertips against his skin.

He shivered at the touch of her fingers as they played with the waistband of his shorts, igniting a spark of desire within him. He leaned in a little closer, his eyes flickering down to her lips before meeting her gaze again.

"Yeah? I'm always down for some...exploration."

She leaned in closer as well, her eyes flickering down to his lips and then back up at his eyes.

"Good," she whispered, her voice low and sultry. She inched even closer, making sure their bodies were pressed together. "Then let's get off this boat and go find somewhere private."

You tried to keep your gaze on Pope who was talking about something while Sarah snuggled into JB's side, occasionally laughing at his jokes but it was futile. So when the blunt was passed back to you, you made sure to take the longest drag up until now, exhaling the smoke slowly while simultaneously laughing at Pope. Which resulted in you coughing while laughing. "And you're telling me you-.. said that to her?" you asked Pope, who was telling you about his attempt at picking up a girl at the party 3 days ago. Which was funnier while high.

John B chuckled as he heard the end of Pope's story, his hand idly rubbing Sarah's shoulder while she snuggled into his side, half-listening to the conversation.

"Yeah he did." He chimed in, looking at Pope and shaking his head. "And she just walked away right after. Didn't stick around to hear the rest of his pitch."

"Are you kidding me?" you pouted slightly, looking at Pope, "I'll teach you some pick up lines.." you said teasingly, feigning disappointment.

Pope rolled his eyes playfully, a smirk on his lips as he responded. "Yeah, yeah, like you can do any better."

John B chuckled, his arm casually wrapping around Sarah's shoulder as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'd like to see you do better."

"Hey i got laid 2 times at the party.. I'd say my charm worked.." you shrugged pointing to a fading mark on your neck and another one on your shoulder proudly.

All three of the boys looked at you in surprise when you mentioned that, their eyes quickly going to the marks on your neck and shoulder. John B and Pope exchanged a glance with each other as they realized what they were looking at, while JJ visibly tensed for a second before masking it with a smirk.

"Damn, looks like someone's been busy." JJ tried to keep his voice casual but still couldn't hide the hint of curiosity in his tone.

"It was the same guy both times.." you told JB, Pope and Sarah after casting a silent glance in JJ's direction, studying him and Kiara without saying a word.

JB and Pope's eyebrows raised in surprise at your admission, sharing another quick glance between them. John B was the first to speak up, looking at you with slight disbelief.

"The same guy? Twice? Damn.." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Lucky bastard."

"Well.. he's good at what he does.. lemme tell you that." you smirked, taking a drag from the blunt when it was passed to you, adjusting your glasses.

All three boys chuckled at your comment, clearly impressed and slightly jealous. They hadn't expected you to actually answer so openly and casually about the subject.

"I bet he's good, given that he scored twice." JJ spoke up before he could stop himself, the words slipping out as he continued to glance at you from time to time.

"Oh not just twice." you stated simply, glancing at JJ, a silent smugness in your gaze before grinning lazily to the others.

The boys' eyes widened at your words, their jaws practically dropped as they tried to keep their expressions somewhat neutral.

Pope couldn't help but blurt out a response, his voice filled with disbelief. "Wait, what do you mean 'not just twice'?"

That's why you hated smoking. It made you more bold. Especially since you were slightly bitter from all the flirting JJ was doing with his girlfriend in front of you. Still maybe you shouldn't have brought up the subject. "We've been hooking up for weeks." you shrugged casually.

The boys were completely stunned at your candid revelation, their mouths opening and closing a few times as they tried to process what you had just said.

John B's eyebrows were raised so high they were almost lost in his hairline, while Pope just stared at you with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. JJ's expression was the most neutral, but his eyes were fixated on you as he absorbed the information.

"Wait, 'weeks'?" Finally, Pope managed to utter a coherent response, his voice filled with shock as his eyes widened in surprise.

"3 Months.. roughly." you hummed, fidgeting with your glasses almost lost in thought.

John B and Pope were flabbergasted at your response, their jaws dropping open once more as they tried to wrap their minds around the revelation that you had been hooking up with someone for months.

JJ, however, remained silent for a moment, his expression still neutral though his eyes told a different story. He tried to play it cool, but there was a slight hint of disbelief and something else - perhaps jealousy? - mixed in with his emotions.

He cleared his throat, trying to force a casual tone into his voice. "And this guy, you see each other... regularly?"

"Here and there... it's mainly me doing the requests of hooking up.." you shrugged, adjusting your glasses almost smugly.

The boys exchanged glances, each of them still trying to process the information you had just dropped on them.

John B let out a low whistle, his gaze wandering over to JJ who had gone unusually quiet. "Sounds like you're making some guy very, very happy."

Pope looked at you with a mix of awe and disbelief, shaking his head slightly.

"Damn, three months. That's a long time. The guy must be having the time of his life."

"We don't really get along outside of sleeping together... it's just... beneficial i guess.." you sighed, the weed suddenly intensifying the guilt washing over you. That was the thing with weed, it made you more bold, which wasn't good, because you were sleeping with Rafe Cameron. One of the few people who was a total ass to your friends. And also Sarah's older brother.

The boys exchanged glances again, their eyes widening as they digested your confession.

John B chuckled dryly, shaking his head slightly. "That's, uh... That's definitely a... beneficial arrangement, all right."

JJ was still silent, his eyes fixed on you as his mind reeled. He couldn't believe what he was hearing and he didn't know how to feel about it.

Pope was still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "Wow, it's like... enemies with benefits."

"Yeah... exactly like that." you grinned pointing to Pope.

Pope returned the grin, a smirk spreading across his face. "Enemies with benefits. That's a new one."

John B snickered and shook his head again, his voice still filled with disbelief. "I'm guessing this whole thing is pretty secret then?"

"Yep.. he's older. So y'know.." you nodded sheepishly, "his friends almost walked in on me giving him head at the party 3 days ago.. so i think they know."

The boys' eyebrows shot up at your revelation. John B's eyes widened in surprise while Pope let out a low whistle.

JJ's jaw clenched slightly, his expression still deceptively neutral as he forced himself to speak. "He's... older? How much older?"

"I think he's 21.. or 20. Not sure.." you mumbled, trying to count the age gap in your mind.

The boys exchanged another glance, their eyebrows practically meeting their hairlines as they absorbed this new piece of information.

Pope whistled lowly again. "21 or 20? Damn girl, you really going for the experienced ones, aren't you?"

"Trust me. He knows what he's doing.." you looked between all 5 pogues, your mind flashing back at all the times you hooked up with Rafe. The guilt was still there, given you were doing something like that behind their backs, knowing that they'd probably hate you if they knew it was Rafe. But you still kept talking. Because word vomit did not stop once it came out. Maybe you could finesse this.

The boys listened in silence, their eyes glued to you as you spoke.

John B shifted slightly, his arm still wrapped around Sarah who had been quietly listening to the conversation. "Is there... something more to this than just hooking up, or...?"

"No. We're not a couple by any means. Just fuckbuddies i guess." you replied. You were obviously leaving out the part that you were doing it cause you were in love with JJ. Who was with Kiara.

The boys nodded thoughtfully, their expressions showing a mix of surprise and mild interest at your explanation. JJ looked at you intently, a subtle frown briefly flickering across his face and a slight tension in his jaw.

Pope couldn't help but ask another question. "So... this 'beneficial arrangement' of yours, how'd it... start?"

The question you dreaded most was finally asked. You couldn't tell them that the day JJ and Kiara got together you got blackout drunk and hooked up with Rafe Cameron out of heartbreak and bitterness. That'd be insane. So you just stuck with a vague answer. "Drunk mistake. And then... i dunno, sober mistakes.."

John B nodded, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"Drunk mistakes, huh? Sounds like my kind of story." He chuckled softly, glancing at Sarah who still snuggled into his side. Pope smirked as well, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

JJ, on the other hand, remained silent, his expression unreadable. His mind was racing, filled with questions and suspicions about the mysterious guy you were hooking up with.

Pope was the first to speak again, his voice holding a mixture of curiosity and envy. "So, uh... what's this guy like? Aside from the whole being 21 or 20 thing."

"Kinky." You stated simply, looking around the boat before reaching for the blunt discarded on the ashtray, lighting it and taking a slow drag.

Pope chuckled at your simple but direct response, while John B raised his eyebrows and smirked a little.

JJ, on the other hand, tensed up again. The blunt had clearly been doing wonders for your confidence and his mind couldn't help but wonder if you would say more. But he still said nothing, listening intently as the others kept asking questions.

John B gestured for you to pass the blunt to him, which you did, while Pope leaned forwards, a sly smile on his face.

His voice was sly and curious as he spoke, his eyes locked on yours. "So, how... kinky exactly are we talking about here? I'm just curious."

"He let me spit in his mouth." you chuckled lazily, giving Pope one example of many. Because if Rafe was anything, he was kinky all through and through.

John B almost choked on the smoke he was exhaling, coughing as he looked at you in surprise.

Pope's eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of shock and fascination on his face.

But JJ's reaction was more subtle. His eyes darkened slightly, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he tried to keep his expression neutral.

John B finally managed to recover, wiping his watering eyes before speaking up again. "He let you spit in his mouth? Like... literally?"

"Yes. Literally. I was like... riding him or whatever.. and i go 'you want me to spit in your mouth?' and he goes 'yes give it to me.'" you snorted, recalling the moment, your cheeks flushing slightly.

The Pogues were completely floored by your answer.

John B's eyebrows shot up, Pope whistled lowly, and JJ's knuckles clenched involuntarily.

For a moment, no one spoke, the awkward silence broken only when Sarah let out a low chuckle.

John B glanced at her, a look of surprise on his face.

He'd kinda forgotten she was even there, given the conversation had been so.... interesting. "What's so funny, Goldilocks?"

Sarah chuckled again, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Nothing. You guys are just so... shocked. It's adorable."

John B chuckled incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief. "Adorable is not the word I'd use for this."

Pope smirked as well, his voice still tinged with disbelief. "Yeah, none of us were expecting to hear something like that, were we, JJ?" He looked over at JJ, who had been unusually quiet through this whole conversation.

JJ looked up slowly, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before moving away again. He gave a careless shrug, his expression carefully controlled. "I don't know. I don't really go for the kinky stuff."

"Seems like you and Kie have it boring then huh?" you snorted teasingly, looking between him and Kiara, his arm still drapped across her shoulder Which was meant as a joke. Because you knew from countless talks you had with JJ while high that he definitely went for the kinky stuff.

For some reason, that comment rubbed JJ the wrong way. Maybe it was because he could sense the hint of bitterness behind your tone, or maybe it was something else. Either way, he couldn't help but respond.

"Boring ain't a word I'd use, darling," he said, his voice low and slightly colder than usual.

Kiara raised an eyebrow at him, noticing the change in his tone. She shot him a look, a slight frown on her face. "Why are you being so bitchy about it, JJ?"

JJ shrugged carelessly, taking a swig of his beer before replying. "I'm not being bitchy. I just don't think it's any of your business what me and Kie do together, all right?"

"Oh yeah... sure." you replied, nodding with a small awkward smile. The weed was tempting you to just bring up the fact that he was drunkenly begging you to hook up with him 3 days ago, after he admitted he wasn't faithful entirely to his girlfriend. But you didn't wanna be a bitch and ruin the hang out. So you just gave him a small knowing look before taking a drag of the blunt when it was passed back to you.

The others continued chatting and passing the blunts around, but JJ's mind was stuck on your earlier comment. He couldn't stop thinking about the hint of bitterness he had heard in your voice. Was it a hint of... jealousy? No, that didn't make sense. You were hooking up with someone else, you weren't in a position to be jealous of him and Kiara.

He glanced sideways at you, his thoughts racing. Your little knowing look and the way you smirked at him was making his brain work overtime.

The conversation had mostly moved on from your earlier revelation, the Pogues talking about different topics and sipping their beers. JJ, however, couldn't shake the strange feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He kept stealing glances at you, his mind still spinning.

He didn't understand why he was feeling so... irritated. Why was he letting your comments get to him? And why was he suddenly so interested in this mystery guy you were seeing?

His eyes followed you as you moved, taking another drag of your blunt, your lips wrapped around the tip in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. He quickly looked away, taking a gulp of beer to distract himself. This was crazy. He was supposed to be happy with Kiara, not staring at you like some creepy weirdo.

JJ found himself watching you more closely, his eyes following your every move. He noticed the way your fingers fidgeted, the way you held the blunt, the way you laughed, the way you smirked. Every little detail suddenly seemed so much more important to him. He took another swig of his beer, his mind still swirling with conflicting thoughts.

You noticed JJ's gaze on you. It was kinda hard not to, to be honest. You glanced at him, your smirk faltering for a split second and coming back almost instantly. You were pleased with the fact that he was bitter for some reason, despite being with Kiara. It was a sick and twisted kind of feeling. It made you wonder, how will he react knowing the mystery man was Rafe, the person he hated most. You glanced back at Pope, snorting in amusement at something he said, adjusting your glasses.

JJ's eyes darkened as he watched you laugh and interact with the others, a mix of irritation and fascination coursing through his veins. He gritted his teeth, the sound of your laugh fueling his irritation further. He could feel a tightness in his chest, a strange feeling of possessiveness that he had never felt before. It was infuriating and he couldn't understand why you were affecting him this way.

After another moment, he looked away, his gaze drifting over to Kiara who was still snuggled into his side.

Kiara glanced up at him, noticing the look on his face. She frowned a little, tilting her head. "You okay, baby?" She asked, her voice soft and filled with concern.

JJ forced a smile, nodding quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just..." He looked over at you again, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Just... distracted, I guess."

"See Pope.. the thing about me is that i will actually do it." You declared proudly, standing up on your feet on the deck of the boat. You took your glasses off, your shorts and vans following, leaving you only in your light blue bathing suit. You grinned, an obvious high grin on your face before back flipping into the water below. Mainly to cool yourself off from the scorching heat and weed. And JJ's heated gaze on the side of your head.

Pope laughed in response, watching you leap off the boat with a mix of admiration and amusement. John B and Sarah chuckled too, while Kiara giggled into JJ's shoulder.

JJ, however, was completely frozen. The sight of you in that bathing suit had rendered him speechless. His eyes stayed glued to the spot where you had been standing, his thoughts racing once more.

He had seen you in bathing suits countless times before. It wasn't a new sight by any means. But something about this time was different. The way the water glistened on your tanned skin, the way the swimsuit clung to your curves, the way your hair became even messier as it got wet. It was all intoxicating to him and it was driving him crazy.

You emerged under the water, pointing to the pogues on the deck on the HMS pogue with a small holler. You suddenly felt lighter, cooled down as you looked up and grinned excitedly, your wet locks sticking to your face and dripping from you as you floated above the surface. Your hands swatted the wet hair from your face, sputtering some water from your mouth.

The Pogues on the deck laughed and cheered, calling out to you and teasing you about your dramatic dive into the water. John B was chuckling, Sarah and Kiara were giggling, and Pope was shaking his head in amusement.

JJ, on the other hand, was still speechless. His eyes drank in every detail of your wet body, his mind going into overdrive. He could feel his heart rate increasing.

He forced his gaze away, tearing his eyes away from you as you splashed around in the water. He took another gulp of his beer, trying to calm the strange feeling raging in his chest. Was this normal? Surely it was just the alcohol and weed messing with his brain, messing with his emotions. It had to be.

He glanced down at Kiara, who was still watching you in the water, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Did anyone bring a towel?" You asked, giggling like a dumbass while you waved your hands above your head and in the water, splashing around while you emerged and submerged from the water from time to time.

John B chuckled, shaking his head. "Nope, sorry sis. You're gonna have to air dry."

Pope and Sarah were laughing, amused by your antics. Kiara chimed in from beside JJ, calling out to you. "You'll just have to drip dry."

You flipped them all off, narrowing your eyes as you looked up at them on the boat, the sun blinding you slightly, "i think my heels touched the back of my head..." you snorted, causing you sputter some more water from your mouth.

The Pogues snickered at that, exchanging amused looks with each other. They could tell you had been feeling the weed and alcohol a little more, with your exaggerated and hilarious reactions.

JJ couldn't help but chuckle too, his eyes shifting to you in the water again. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but the sight of you, wet and smiling, was making it harder and harder to control his thoughts.

He took another gulp of his beer, his mind still swirling with contradictions. Part of him wanted to jump into the water with you, join in the laughter, and forget about the strange feelings he was experiencing.

But another part of him, a part he didn't understand, wanted to just look at you, take in every bit of your wet body, commit it to memory. It was driving him insane.

He clenched his jaw, trying to push the intrusive thoughts away. He was in a relationship dammit, he had no right to think these things about you. He was just being influenced by the alcohol, the weed, the atmosphere. That was it. Nothing more.

But as he watched you sputtering and laughing in the water, the way the sunlight shone on your skin, making it gleam and shine... his resolve was slowly starting to crack.

You continued splash around, giggling while swimming around the boat, "I'm so high guys... i can barely feel my legs.." you spoke, hollering once again and whooping the water gently.

The Pogues all laughed, some of them hollering and whooping back. They were all enjoying the high a little too much, the whole scene taking a light and carefree atmosphere.

JJ couldn't help but smirk at your antics, your laughter and whooing making his mind spin even more. The sight of you, carefree and high, was both enchanting and infuriating.

He took another swig of his beer, his mind going into overdrive. What was this feeling? Why was he getting so worked up over you just enjoying yourself? He had seen you in a bathing suit countless times before, he knew what you looked like wet and laughing.

But this time… this time was different. The alcohol and weed were making it harder for him to control his thoughts. Harder for him to ignore the possessive and territorial feelings bubbling underneath the surface.

His eyes followed your every move, watching as you continued to swim and splash around. He wanted to look away, to stop himself from staring, but he couldn’t. It was like your high and carefree attitude had him hypnotized, making it impossible for him to look anywhere else.

As he stared, taking in every detail of your wet body, the sound of Kiara’s voice suddenly jolted him out of his trance.

"Hey," Kiara said softly, her voice a sharp contrast to the laughter and whooping around you. She looked up at JJ with a small frown, her eyes narrowing.

JJ blinked, breaking out of his trance. He turned to look at Kiara, his expression shifting back to its neutral state from before. "Yeah?"

"You're watching her a lot..." Kiara noted, a hint of annoyance in her tone. JJ tensed up, realizing he had been caught.

He tried to play it off, shrugging casually. "Am I? I didn't even notice."

Kiara's frown deepened, her eyes narrowing further. She obviously wasn't convinced by his attempt to play it off. She tilted her head, studying him intently.

"You sure you didn't notice? Cuz I swear, your eyes haven't left her body for the past five minutes."

JJ blinked again, mentally cursing himself. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as Kiara called him out. He tried to keep his voice steady.

"I was just... keeping an eye on her, ya know. Making sure she's alright, since she's high as a kite and all."

Kiara raised an eyebrow, skepticism written all over her face. "Really? Is that why you're ogling her like you've never seen a girl in a bathing suit before? Gimme a break."

"Guys... there's a boat comin'.." you called out, facing away from the pogues, putting an unknowing stop to JJ's and Kiara's small argument. And it was true, there was a boat approaching. And by the looks of it, it looked like one full of kooks, hollering and laughing.

John B and the rest of the Pogues were immediately on high alert. They all sat up straight, the carefree mood instantly being shattered by the sight of the approaching boat.

John B squinted, trying to make out the details of the oncoming boat. "Shit. Kooks."

As they approached though, you could faintly make out the people on the boat, due to the lack of glasses and water in your eyes. And you felt a slight panic rise in your chest. Rafe Cameron. With other kooks, laughing and hollering loudly, music playing from somewhere on the big yacht. The boat came to a stop, a feet good feet beside you, Rafe peering down at your form in the water smirking.

The Pogues tensed up as the boat came into view, their eyes going wide as they recognized Rafe and his crew. JJ in particular bristled, his jaw clenching tightly as he saw Rafe's smirk.

As the boat rocked onto the water beside the Pogue, Rafe's eyes landed on you, a predatory grin spreading on his face. He leaned over the side of the boat, his gaze wandering over your body in the water.

"Well, well, well. Look who we've got here." Rafe drawled, his tone dripping with faux politeness. His eyes roamed over your form, his grin becoming more wolfish as he took in your appearance.

You were desperately praying he wouldn't say anything to give out the nature of your relationship, especially when you had just told the pogues about your secret hook up buddy just a little bit ago. "In flesh and bones.." you smirked sardonically, eyeing him with a gaze that silently said 'behave yourself.'

Rafe laughed, leaning even further over the edge of the boat. His eyes were still roving over your body, taking in every inch of you. The other kooks behind him were snickering and giggling, clearly amused by the scene.

"Well if it isn't good ol' party princess. Enjoying the afternoon?" he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

"Very much so.." you nodded in mock curtness, glancing back at the pogues on the HMS pogue behind you, eyeing the exchange with a hint of worry and concern.

Rafe chuckled again, his eyes flickering to the Pogues for a moment before returning to you. He could sense their worry, their unease. It seemed to amuse him even more.

"Looks like you've been having some fun out here, huh? Getting all wet and wild, like usual." he taunted, his tone suggestive and cocky.

"You sound like a lame villain from a kids' cartoon.." you called back, deadpanning and trying to communicate silently that he was gonna owe you for this interaction later when you saw each other.

Rafe chuckled at that, slightly taken aback by your blunt response. He wasn't used to you being so sarcastic and unimpressed in public. But he also knew you were just playing it cool, for the sake of the Pogues behind you. It amused him.

"Oh, you've got yourself a comedian here, guys.." he mock-yelled to his friends behind him, who snickered and hooted in response.

He turned back to you, his smirk widening into a sly grin. "We're throwing a party tonight on The Wreck. You should come by. It's gonna be a real rager."

"Yeah... uh, I'll pass.. Thanks for the invite though.." you denied feigning politeness as you fixed him with a irritated look.

Rafe's smirk turned into a scowl at your refusal. He didn't like being turned down, especially in front of his friends.

"Oh, come on. Don't be a buzzkill. It'll be fun. I'm sure your little friends will love it too." He gestured over to the Pogues behind you, his tone becoming more derisive.

JJ's face darkened as Rafe gestured to the Pogues. He knew exactly what Rafe was trying to do, and it wasn't going to fly.

"We're not interested in your snob party, Rafe." he shot back, glaring up at Rafe with open hostility.

Rafe's eyes narrowed as he met JJ's glare. He was clearly not used to being defied like this, especially by a Pogue.

"Oh, relax, Maybank. You're just pissed because you can't afford the champagne we're serving." he sneered.

"You know i don't get drunk off of champagne Rafe... I'm more of a hard liquor girl.." you mumbled, stepping in with a cold irritated comeback. You knew Rafe disliked JJ more since you both have started secretly hooking up, mainly cause you were in love with the blonde boy. It made him more hostile and condescending towards JJ, for some weird reason.

Rafe clenched his jaw, his irritation flaring further as you stepped in to defend JJ. It was one thing being defied by JJ, but being defied by you… it was infuriating.

"Yeah, we all know you're a bit of a lush, princess." he retorted, his tone dripping with condescension. "But I doubt you and your Pogue friends can handle the quality of alcohol we'll be serving at The Wreck."

JJ's eyes darkened further at Rafe's insult. He was getting more and more angry by the minute, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Watch your mouth, man. You don't get to talk to her like that." he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

Rafe chuckled, his smirk returning to his face. He was enjoying getting a rise out of JJ. It was entertaining.

"Oh my bad. I forgot I was talking to the local Pogue hero. Gotta defend your little princess, right?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Can you not be a dick?" you snapped, your expression hardening at his subtle jab.

Rafe's smirk faltered for a moment at your sudden snap. He wasn't expecting you to jump in so suddenly.

"What, you're mad at me now too?" he retorted, his voice cocky once again.

You knew what he was trying to do, and it wasn't gonna work. Not when in private he was begging you to get him to finish or come over to fuck. The jab, although directed at JJ was more for you, given he knew how in love with JJ you were and how JJ wasn't reciprocating those feelings. Hence the whole secret hook up buddy thing with him. "You're not entertaining anyone but yourself, Cameron.." you stated coldly, running a hand through your wet hair.

Rafe's expression turned to a scowl as you called him out on his bullshit, his eyes narrowing at your bluntness. He hated how well you knew him, how you saw right through his attempts to get under JJ's skin. It was infuriating, especially because he couldn't let on in front of the Pogues that he had anything going on with you. "Oh yeah? Well I'm entertained, and that's all that matters, princess".

"I'm sure.." you trailed off vaguely, fixing him with an intense look, one that said 'back down, you're just making it worse.'

Rafe grumbled under his breath, his scowl only deepening as he got the message behind your intense look. He knew he was pushing his luck, and he didn't want to risk revealing anything in front of the Pogues.

He let out a frustrated huff, his gaze flickering to the Pogues behind you for a moment before returning to you.

"Fine. But you're seriously missing out."

"More booze for you right?" you smiled sardonically, shrugging while trying to keep yourself afloat at the same time.

Rafe chuckled slightly at your comment, his temper cooling a little.

"Yeah, I guess. More high-quality booze for me and the kooks. We'll be drinking till dawn."

"Mhm.. holding my breath by the phone.." you muttered. To others it may have seemed weird and cryptic but Rafe knew what it meant. You were both aware he was gonna drunk text you later tonight and you loved poking at the fact subtly without anyone noticing.

Rafe's expression softened faintly as you muttered your subtle tease. He knew no one else would understand the hidden message, and he found it almost endearing.

He shot you a small, secret smirk, silently acknowledging your play. He couldn't wait to text you later, when he was a bit more inebriated and less in control of his thoughts.

JJ observed the entire interaction between you and Rafe with a mix of irritation and discomfort. He watched the way you both spoke to each other, the subtle hints and glances that only the two of you seemed to understand.

He couldn't figure out why he was so bothered by it. Maybe it was the fact that Rafe was being a total dick, or maybe it was the fact that you were responding.

He tried to push down the unease growing in his chest, telling himself that it was just Rafe being a jerk as usual. But the way you responded so snarkily to him, almost familiarly, was making him feel weird.

He couldn't help but wonder what was going on between you two, what secrets you were keeping from all of the Pogues.

He watched as you and Rafe continued to banter, your words laced with hidden meanings and inside jokes that only the two of you seemed to understand. JJ felt a tightness in his chest as he observed the interaction.

He could feel the unease growing within him, a mixture of irritation and confusion. He couldn't understand why Rafe was being such a dick to you, or why you were responding in such a familiar and snarky way, especially since he didn't really see you talk to Rafe before. The whole exchange was making him uncomfortable and suspicious.

"Ok Rafe piss off to your side of the island now.." you spoke after a few more moments of bantering, still floating around in the water around the HMS pogue.

Rafe chuckled at your command, reluctantly amused by your boldness. He had forgotten how feisty you could be, and he secretly loved it.

"Alright, alright." he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Jeez, you don't have to be so harsh."

He turned to his friends on the boat behind him, all of whom were watching the interaction with slight amusement. "You heard the lady, boys. Let's go."

The kooks behind him snickered and chuckled, a few of them throwing you sarcastic farewells and salutes. Rafe shot you a wink before turning away, his boat's engine flaring to life as they began to pull away.

JJ watched as Rafe and his friends pulled away, his jaw set tight and his fists clenched at his sides. He knew something weird was going on between you and Rafe, he just wasn't sure what.

After the kooks' boat flared away you turned to glance up at the pogues on the boat, narrowing your eyes and letting a small giggle, "i think i just peed myself a little.." you snorted in amusement, still obviously high.

The Pogues on board the HMS Pogue looked down at you with a mixture of relief and amusement.

JJ's expression softened slightly as he saw your amused giggle, the tension in his body lessening a bit.

Pope and John B chuckled at your confession, while Sarah and Kiara shared amused looks.

Kiara leaned down to peer over the edge of the boat, a small smirk on her face.

"Did you really pee yourself, or are you just high as hell?" she teased, her tone lighthearted.

"Dunno... but i was scared the whole kook situation with Rafe will escalate.." you continued to giggle, shielding your eyes with your hand from the sun.

Pope chuckled and leaned down next to Kiara, a sly smirk on his face. "Yeah, we could see that. Didn't think you had it in you to stand up to Rafe like that."

John B chuckled as he too leaned down, a look of amusement on his face."You had him backing down real quick. We were impressed."

Sarah, who had been silently watching the interaction, spoke up with a small, somewhat knowing smirk on her face.

"You handled him pretty well, I have to say. Even JJ was surprised, aren't you, JJ?" she teased, glancing over at JJ.

JJ's attention was immediately drawn to Sarah's comment. He had been partially lost in thought, still feeling uneasy and suspicious about what he had just witnessed between you and Rafe.

He quickly composed himself, plastering on a light smirk and trying to play it cool.

"Yeah, sure. She handled him well enough." he responded with a shrug, his voice casual but not entirely convincing.

"Rafe can't handle me.. he had to back down.. Didn't know your brother was such a wimp Sarah.." you teased Sarah, smirking up at her.

Sarah chuckled at your playful jab, her smirk widening. "Trust me, I know my brother better than anyone. He's a dick." Kiara let out a snort of laughter, clearly enjoying the banter.

Pope and John B both chuckled, while JJ simply nodded in agreement. They all knew firsthand what a dick Rafe Cameron was.

The banter continued, the Pogues sharing inside jokes and jabs, the mood on the boat light and easy. JJ, however, remained slightly distant. His thoughts still preoccupied by the strange interaction he had witnessed between you and Rafe.

He continued to listen to the banter, his body relaxed but his mind still racing with curiosity and unease. He kept sneaking glances at you, watching your laughing face and the way you continued to float in the water.

He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something going on between you and Rafe, something that you were keeping secret from the rest of the Pogues. He was tempted to ask you about it, to confront you and demand an explanation. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not here, not in front of the others.

Soon enough the hangout moved back to the chateau, the pogues scattered in the backyard of John B's house. As the afternoon faded into an early evening, JJ with Pope and JB were lighting a small bonfire, while you, Kie and Sarah sat sprawled in lawn chairs around the small fire, giggling and chatting away.

JJ lit the bonfire with a flick of his lighter, the flames slowly growing larger and illuminating the small gathering of Pogues around the fire.

Pope and John B gathered sticks and firewood, tossing them into the fire to keep it going. The three of them chatted idly as they worked, their voices blending in with the crackling of the fire.

Every now and then, JJ would glance over at you and the girls, your laughter piercing through the night air.

He tried to focus on the fire, on the conversation with Pope and John B, but he couldn't help but be drawn to you. He wondered what you were talking about with Kiara and Sarah, and why he couldn't seem to get the image of you and Rafe out of his head.

You were still feeling the high, your hand raking through your now dry hair casually while you laughed with Sarah and Kie about something. Your hair was more curlier from the salt water, your t-shirt and shorts still slightly damp from your bathing suit underneath. You adjusted your glasses, throwing your head back a little as you giggled at Sarah's joke, nodding in agreement after.

Kiara and Sarah both chuckled at your reaction to the joke, their eyes sparkling with amusement. They continued to chat and giggle, their conversation bouncing from one topic to another. Sarah, with a mischievous glint in her eye, started to make a comment. "You know, Y/n, there's something I've been meaning to ask-"

As Sarah started to speak, JJ’s ear perked up, his attention immediately drawn to the girls’ conversation. He tried to hide his interest, continuing to stack wood on the bonfire as if he weren’t listening in.

"What?" you drawled, your eyes now fixed on Sarah, completely focused on her incoming question.

Sarah smirked, her tone slightly suggestive as she spoke. "Well, I've been meaning to ask... Is there something going on between you and Rafe?" She glanced pointedly at you, her gaze flickering towards where JJ and the other boys were messing with the bonfire.

"What makes you ask that?" you straightened in your chair slightly. You were taken aback by her question, especially since you told the pogues you were hooking up with someone right before Rafe disrupted the peace earlier that day on the water.

Kiara, who was sitting next to you, leaned forward, her expression a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. "Yeah, we were all kind of wondering that too. I mean, you said you were hooking up with someone before Rafe showed up, then there was the whole thing with you guys on the water..." Sarah nodded in agreement, still watching you intently.

"What thing..? we were just talking y'know? Rafe was just being a dick as per usual." you shrugged, letting out a small nervous chuckle, glancing between Kiara and Sarah.

Sarah raised a skeptical eyebrow, not entirely convinced. "Just talking? Really? It looked like a bit more than just talking to me..."

Kiara nodded in agreement, a small frown on her face. "Yeah, it seemed like there was a little bit more going on. You two just had this weird vibe..."

They both continued to stare at you, waiting for a response. You could feel their gazes on you, scrutinizing and prying. JJ, who was silently listening to the conversation by the bonfire, also waited for your response, his hands frozen on the firewood he was stacking.

"Pfft.. you're funny.. why would there be something going on between me and Rafe?" you waved your hand dismissively, scoffing and chuckling in mock disbelief.

Sarah raised her eyebrows, her skepticism growing slightly. "Oh come on, Y/n. We saw the way you two were interacting out there. And you’ve been quiet about who this mystery guy you’re hooking up with is. What are we supposed to think?"

"So you guys think it's him?" 'well you would be spot on' you thought, your mind clouding with anxiety. You widened your eyes slightly, adjusting your glasses, "no way in hell.."

Both Sarah and Kiara seemed unconvinced, their eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Come on, you can't blame us for thinking it's him. You're being really secretive about who this mystery man is, and now y'all are acting weird after that whole thing on the water."

"Yeah, it's pretty suspicious. And Rafe has a thing for you, he's always ogling at you." added Sarah to Kie's comment.

"Rafe has a thing for me? when did you come to that conclusion?" you raised your brows, peering at Sarah.

Sarah chuckled, as if your reaction confirmed something. "Are you kidding me? It's obvious. The way he oggles you every time you walk by, or how he always tries to be near you at parties. He's totally into you."

"That's your older, asshole of a brother we're talking about here Sarah.. that would be.. illegal." you deadpanned, shaking your head although what she was saying was true. And you hoped the pogues didn't notice,

Sarah rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Illegal? That hasn't stopped him before. I know my brother, and he doesn't give a damn about age. Especially if he really wants something or someone."

Kiara nodded in agreement, her arms crossed over her chest. "You gotta admit dude, it's a little sus."

"I dunno.. maybe it's cause i bought weed from him a couple of times in the past. But it's just that. He used to be my plug, nothing more.." you shrugged, adjusting your glasses once again.

Sarah and Kiara exchanged skeptical glances. "Maybe you’re right about the weed thing, but it still doesn't explain the way you were acting with him on the water. And now you won’t tell us who this mystery guy is. Feels like there's something more going on." hummed Sarah as she regarded you with a crtical eye.

"The dude I'm hookin' up with goes to college in Charleston... His name is Riley.. you guys wouldn't know him.." you shrugged once again. You were feeling proud for cooking up such a smooth lie on the spot, especially since you were still a little out of it from the weed.

Sarah and Kiara seemed a little taken aback, their eyes widening slightly at your unexpected revelation. "Huh. College student in Charleston, huh? That's unexpected. Why didn't you tell us about him before?"

Kiara chimed in, her expression somewhat surprised. "Yeah, and why keep him a secret? If he's just some random college boy, what's the big deal?"

"I told you.. he's like 20. He doesn't want people to know he's hooking up with a 17 year old.." you rolled your eyes. You were relieved that the conversation switched from Rafe and you to this made-up guy in college in Charleston. You were so close to just admitting that you were boning Sarah's older brother.

Sarah and Kiara exchanged looks of surprise and slight amusement. "20, huh? And he doesn't want people to know about you? That's kind of sketchy, don't you think?"

Kiara added, a note of skepticism in her voice. "Why would he keep you a secret? Sounds like he's not serious about you."

"Cause he's not." you stated simply, chuckling in disbelief, leaning back in your chair, "It's just casual sex, we're not a couple by any means..." you waved your hand again, shaking your head.

Sarah and Kiara's mouths dropped open slightly, their eyes widened further in shock at your blunt admission. They hadn't expected you to be so straightforward and nonchalant about the nature of your relationship with this mystery college boy.

Sarah's eyes flickered over to JJ, who was still near the bonfire but was unmistakably listening in on the conversation. He tried but failed to feign nonchalance, pretending to be engrossed in stacking the firewood.

Kiara shifted in her chair, a mix of surprise and concern on her face. She glanced at JJ and then back to you, her eyes narrowing. "Just casual... doesn't that make you feel used or something? What if he's messing around with other girls too?"

"I hope he is. If his only option is a 17 year old then he's a major loser. And no it doesn't make me feel used.." you trailed off, you were the one using Rafe in this scenario. But it probably would've been a different round of reactions if they actually knew that Riley the Charleston college guy was Sarah's older brother. And that you were sleeping with him to get over JJ who was dating Kiara. Thinking about it, it sounded complicated and messy, given JJ hated Rafe, and so did your other best friends.

Sarah and Kiara glanced at each other once again, trying to process your cavalier attitude about the whole situation. They were both concerned for you, but the fact that you seemed so nonchalant about being a secret, casual fling for some college guy didn't sit right with them. It was almost like you had some sort of self-respect issues.

Which you did. Any hint of self respect was thrown out the window once the guy you were in love with got with one of your of your best friends. The first few weeks of JJ's and Kie's relationship was a total hell for you. With time it got a little bit better, but you still felt sick to your stomach whenever they kissed or mentioned teasingly to the group about sleeping together. It was even worse when you were all at the Chateau and you could hear them. At times, you felt entitled to the tens of minutes of feeling wanted when you were sleeping with Rafe. Till you were overcame by self hatred and disgust after you came. And you were back in square 1. Still madly in love with JJ, the one person in this life who couldn't reciprocate your feelings.

Your gaze flicked between Kie and Sarah, your expression melting into one of uncomfortableness, the laid back attitude slipping away once you could feel their gazes bore into you, including JJ's from where he was standing by the fire. It left you wondering how would you feel when they found out you were sleeping with Rafe behind their backs. What would happen if you just had gotten it over with and told them..

Sarah leaned forward slightly, her tone growing more concerned. There was a hint of sisterly protectiveness in her voice. "Are you sure you're okay with this, Y/n? It sounds like you're downplaying how much this casual thing is affecting you. This mystery guy, Riley, doesn't really care about you, does he?"

Kiara chimed in, her expression worried as well. "Yeah...it's not healthy to settle for a guy who doesn't treat you like a priority."

You suddenly felt like a black sheep next to them. Sarah was in a happy relationship with John B and so was Kie with JJ. Your JJ. And here you were, hooking up with the town's local asshole and drug dealer as a way to squish down your feelings as much as you could when you weren't getting black out drunk. But to them it seemed like you wanted to have an exclusive relationship with the guy you were hooking up on the low. It didn't help that you were lying about his identity and just lying in general. You suddenly felt lost, the carefree and fun atmosphere seeming to shift around you as you felt your best friends' eyes on you. The fact that you were still half high didn't help either.

You grimaced slightly without realizing, digging your beat up vans into the dirt underneath them mindlessly, "I don't treat him like a priority either.. i don't care about the guy.." you chuckled dryly, swallowing a small lump forming in your throat.

Sarah and Kiara exchanged worried glances once again. "Even so, it doesn't change the fact that he's messing with your feelings, whether you like it or not. You deserve better than that. Not some random college dude only using you."

Kiara sighed softly, her expression softening further. "We just don't want to see you get hurt, especially over some guy who's probably playing you."

You knew what you deserved. What you deserved stood a few feet in front of you messing with the bonfire and listening in to the conversation fixing you with his blue eyes. But the universe was an asshole and he was dating someone else, so you were stuck in a muddy situation. "You guys don't get it.. if anything, I'm playing him. And he knows it. We're both okay with the idea of using each other.." you trailed off, your gaze still fixed on your beat up and worn down sneakers, your fingers reaching up to adjust your glasses.

Sarah exchanged a look with Kiara, her eyebrows raised slightly at your words. But before either of them could respond, a low, rough scoff cut through the air.

"You're playin' him? Bullshit." JJ's voice cut through the air from where he was standing. He'd been listening in on the whole conversation, unable to keep his mouth shut any longer.

When JJ spoke up your head snapped up, your eyes locking as your brows raised in something that looked like surprise and discomfort, The main reason of your turmoil and messy relationship was now speaking up and scoffing at your choices like he had any right. "Yeah.. something like that" you stated, your brows furrowing ever so slightly. Your tone was a little bitter but you tried to keep it casual mostly.

JJ's expression was one of disbelief, skepticism practically radiating off him. He stepped closer to the group, his gaze still fixed on you. "Seriously, you really expect us to believe that crap?" He crossed his arms, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You, of all people, playin' someone? That's rich."

"That's just how the situation is... i wouldn't call it 'playing him'. But we're both being casual about the whole thing.." you shrugged, adjusting your glasses as you looked up at him, still sat in your lawn chair.

"Casual. That's bullshit and you know it. It's not casual when your little secret relationship is affecting you this much." JJ's expression was stoney and stern, not believing you for a second. He leaned back against the tree beside him, his arms still crossed.

"Do you seriously think we can't tell something's up?" Sarah murmured, watching the interaction with concern. Kie nodded softly in agreement.

You suddenly felt put on the spot again. Your gaze flitted between Sarah, JJ and Kie. They were thinking you were catching feelings for the person you were casually hooking up. What a joke. It wasn't an outstretched idea, it made sense. But what they didn't know was that you were doing the whole thing to push down your feelings for JJ.

You let out a small amused giggle, covering your mouth with your hand "Guys... no. I'm not catching feelings for this guy.." you grimaced slightly at the thought of catching feelings for Rafe. "He's the last person I'd wanna fall in love with."

Sarah and Kiara seemed to relax slightly at your assurances that you weren't developing feelings, their faces a little more placated.

JJ, however, seemed unconvinced. He raised a skeptical eyebrow, eyeing you up and down as if he could see right through your words. He had an intuitive knack for sensing when you were bullshitting, and the way you were giggling softly like you were hiding something made his suspicions go up even more.

The fire continued to crackle in the background as JJ kept his eyes fixed on you, his expression turning into a frown once again as he crossed his arms once more. "So if you're not into him, then why are you seeing him? What's the point of even being with the guy?" He looked genuinely bewildered.

"Fun.." you shrugged, stretching out your legs in front of you, your fingers reaching to adjust your glasses again.

JJ shook his head slightly, looking incredulous. "Seriously? Fun, that's your reason?" He chuckled, a sardonic edge to his voice. "There are tons of other ways to have fun that don't involve casual hook-upin' with a college dude."

You looked between your best friends, even Pope and John B who were standing by the fire looking interested in the conversation. You still felt put on the spot. You knew you sounded dumb, your reasoning sounding shallow and hollow inside. But you couldn't tell them that the main reason of this casual fun were your feelings for JJ. "Why is everyone looking so concerned.. i told y'all about this cause i thought It'd be... i dunno, fun? It's not that deep.."

The others all exchanged glances, and you could tell there was a hint of concern on their faces. John B piped up from where he was standing, his voice softer than JJ's. "We're just worried because casual hookups often end up messy, especially when feelings get mixed up."

"That's the thing. You guys don't understand that no feelings can get mixed up." you tried to explain, sitting up straight in your chair. You wanted to let them know you weren't gonna catch feelings and that your focus wasn't on the casual hookup and rather the reasoning behind it. Of course without revealing it out right.

JJ's expression was still skeptical, his arms still crossed as he listened to you speak. His gaze never wavered. "How do you know for sure that your feelings won't get mixed up? People can't help their feelings, and this college dude could end up having feelings for you. Or you could have feelings for him and not even realize it."

"That's his problem. If he ended up falling in love- which would be absolutely bonkers, -I'm not responsible for it." you spoke, an edge of desperation in your voice. You wanted the topic to be dismissed. Especially when Kie and JJ were staring at you so intently. It was like a sucker punch. The main reason asking you for the reason of your bad decisions. It felt like an unfunny comedy stunt.

"Not responsible? You're the one hooking up and spending time with the guy. How is it his problem? It's your action that's making it happen, not his." grimaced JJ.

Kiara spoke up now, her voice gentle yet slightly concerned, her gaze fixed on you, studying your expression. "And what happens if you end up catching feelings for him too?”

"God! I'm in love with someone else!" you spoke, sighing loudly. "He knows that. He's okay with being the rebound. That's why it's casual and i'm sure it won't end up in flames. He's getting sex and i'm getting a distraction.." You spoke, rubbing your face after perching your glasses atop of your head.

There was a collective silence that settled over the group at your outburst, the fire crackled faintly in the background. The others exchange glances as they register your words, while JJ's jaw went slack at your confession. "You're... in love with someone?" Sarah murmured, raising an eyebrow.

"And you're using this college dude as a distraction? Why not just focus on the guy you love?" asked Kiara, which you found ironic, if not funny.

"Cause Kie.. not everything is sunshine and rainbows, okay?" you turned to her, grimacing in discomfort, "Not everyone is as lucky as you and Sarah." you raised your brows as you spoke, adjusting your glasses back on your face. This was getting too suffocating. And you could feel the bitterness swirl up in your stomach again. Sarah had John B and Kie had JJ. But that wasn't her fault. Not really anyway.

Kie opened her mouth to respond, but you didn't let her speak. You could feel the bitterness rising in your throat, and the words came out in a defensive rush.

“And not everybody has the guy they love fall in love with them, okay?” You glanced down, fidgeting with your fingers and scowling at your lap. “Sometimes, you just don’t get happy endings.”

“Sometimes, you have to look for love and comfort in different places.”

The mood amongst the group soured at your words, and there was an uncomfortable tension in the air. JJ remained uncharacteristically silent, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. Kie and Sarah exchanged sad glances while John B looked troubled, his brow furrowed in thought. "I..." She started, her voice gentle. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rub it in your face..."

"No, yeah.. i just don't wanna talk about it." You mumbled shaking your head. "You guys don't need to look at me with pity, okay?" you glanced between your best friends, your hands stuttering to fish a cigarette pack out of the pocket of your shorts. You took out one, placing it between your lips and lighting it, taking a long drag to calm down the feeling of being put in the spot light and the small adrenaline rush from the outburst.

The others remained quiet, watching as you lit a cigarette, the smoke adding a hazy veil in the air. JJ couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he watched you, knowing how your feelings had been weighing on you. Silence surrounded the group, the only sound was the occasional crackle of the fire and the sound of you inhaling and exhaling smoke.

The fire crackled softly, the wood burning and releasing a soft, smoky aroma into the air. The sound of the marsh in the background and the distant chirping of crickets was the only thing that broke the silence. Everyone was still, watching as you took another drag from your cigarette, the end of it glowing bright orange. You were contempt with the silence. You hated having to lie to the pogues. Especially about the identity of the person you were hooking up with. You knew they'd despise you if they found out you were sleeping with Rafe Cameron and not some made up dude who was in college in Charleston. And you knew that telling them that the person you were pining for, was JJ would make things awkward, given he was dating Kie. You knew you were getting yourself more and more tangled in your own mess. And sometimes it felt like you were just waiting for everything to just blow up to smithereens.

JJ glanced around at the pogues, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he let out a sigh, breaking the silence. "I need a drink, man."

With that, he got up and headed towards the case of beer sitting on a nearby table, pulling out a cold one for himself.

He popped the cap off and took a good chug, the cool beer going down his throat. The rest of the pogues followed JJ's lead, grabbing cans of beer for themselves. But you stayed seated, continuing to smoke your cigarette, the bitter taste of the nicotine lingering on your tongue.

As the night progressed and more beers were passed around, the pogues became more and more intoxicated. Laughter echoed around the marsh as they reminisced over old memories and shared funny anecdotes. John B's face went red, a tell-tale sign that he was well and truly tipsy. Kiara and Sarah were giggling and stumbling over themselves, clinging to each other for support. However, JJ was still coherent, drinking moderately to keep his buzz going, his eyes darting towards you every so often.

The conversation turned more lively and lighthearted, the Pogues becoming drunker by the minute. John B began slurring his words as he tried to recount a funny fish story to the group. Kie and Sarah were laughing loudly beside him, their heads close together as they whispered something. JJ continued to glance in your direction, noticing the cigarette packet in your lap and how your expression hadn't changed since your small outburst.

Unable to resist his curiosity, JJ moved away from the group and took a seat on the lawn chair next to you, the fire casting a warm glow on his face. he glanced down at your packet, and then back up at you from the corner of his eye. "You always chain smoke when you're drunk, huh?" He tried for a light tone, a hint of concern hidden behind his words.

" 'M not drunk.." you mumbled, putting out your cigarette in the dirt beneath your shoes, shrugging.

JJ chuckled softly, the sound quiet and not entirely humorous. He looked over at you, his head slightly lolled over to the side as he studied your expression. The fire's light illuminated the sharp edges of your face, the shadows dancing across your features.

"You sure about that, darlin'?" He teased softly.

"Yes.. y'know i don't like beers." you raised your brows, your eyes dancing over his features, your fingers reaching up to adjust your glasses.

JJ snickered softly at your words, his gaze following the movement of your hand as you adjusted your glasses.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that you're more of a hard alcohol kinda girl. Whiskey, was it?" He smirked, recalling a memory from some party, where you drank straight from a whiskey bottle without flinching.

"Vodka, tequila.. anything hard." you nodded, leaning back in your chair, your gaze fixed on the small fire in front of you.

JJ chuckled, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He remembered the nights he'd seen you, downing shots of vodka and tequila like it was water, your face barely even betraying a slight flush under the influence.

"You're just using it to distract yourself," He teased, his tone laced with affection.

His words caught you off guard but you didn't let it show, your eyes flickering over the fire mindlessly. It was true, especially since he started dating Kie, alcohol had helped you with numbing how you felt, aside from sleeping with Rafe. "Don't get emotional on me blondie.." you teased although there wasn't any hint of a smile or smirk on your face.

JJ chuckled dryly at your response, a bitter smirk on his face. "Can't blame a guy for noticing, can you?"

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. The alcohol was starting to settle in, making his movements more relaxed and his words more loose. He bit his bottom lip, contemplating for a moment before he spoke.

"I know you have a thing for numbing yourself. I've known it for a long time, actually..."

Your mind wandered back to your outburst earlier that night, a small shiver of second hand embarrassment rattling you. Your hands were fiddling with the almost empty cigarette pack in your lap. You glanced around at the pogues, your eyes falling onto Kiara for a beat too long before looking back at the fire, "Well.. it's not like my life is perfect by any means.." you mumbled, chuckling bitterly.

JJ noticed the brief flickering of your gaze over to Kiara, and the way you chuckled bitterly, your eyes downcast. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he studied your expression, his blue eyes serious and thoughtful.

"That's an understatement, sugar." He mumbled. "Your life has been hell for a long time."

The sound of the others talking amongst each other filled the air – John B and Sarah were singing along to some old country song while Kie and Pope laughed loudly, too drunk to function. But JJ was paying no attention to them, his focus entirely on you, his eyes flicking over the curve of your jawline, the furrow of your brow. He knew that there was something you were bottling up, something you were keeping from everyone, and it gnawed at him that you weren't talking to him about it.

The silence between you two was heavy, the weight of all the unspoken words hanging in the air. JJ couldn't bear it, the way you clammed up on him, the way he could see you shutting him out. Without thinking, he reached out and placed a hand on your knee, his touch gentle but firm. He swallowed thickly, his tone serious. "You can talk to me, you know that right..?"

Your eyes flitted onto his hand that was placed on your knee, and for a second you wanted to place your hand on top of his, before you decided against it. You looked up at him, studying him silently for a few seconds before speaking, "yeah.. i know."

JJ met your gaze, his fingers curling a little tighter on your knee, as if to anchor you and keep you from shutting him out completely. There was something about the way you said those words – 'yeah.. i know.' – that made his stomach clench.

"Then why won't you?" He asked quietly, his blue eyes dark and piercing as he searched your face, desperate to find some hint of what was going on in your head.

"I dunno.. I'm not someone who talks about stuff." you shrugged, your eyes falling back onto his hand resting on your knee, feeling a little awkward from the fact that such a small friendly touch affected you so much.

JJ's fingers gripped your knee tighter instinctively at the casual shrug, like it was his way of making sure you didn't shrink further away from him. He didn't take his eyes off you, his gaze unwavering and serious.

"You used to be my someone who did talk about stuff." He muttered, his voice quiet and laced with accusation. "You used to talk to me."

The quiet accusation in his voice made your heart sink. He was right. You had always felt comfortable opening up to JJ about everything. From your father’s alcohol problems, to your dreams and hopes for the future. But ever since he fell in love with Kie and you started sleeping with Rafe, you had slowly become more secretive, building up a wall between you and your best friend. And JJ had noticed. Albeit he didn't know about the Rafe thing or that you were in love with him, he still knew something was up. Because he was your JJ and he always knew.

You prodded the back of his hand with your nail gently, not to signal him to take it off but just to calm down the urge to touch him back in a way, "Well yeah.. but i can't burden you with my problems now that we're older.." you wanted to tell him that the reason you weren't talking was because he was in a relationship, but you knew better than to say something so bitter sounding.

JJ's brows furrowed at your words, his heart clenching at the thought that you felt you couldn't confide in him anymore.

"You wouldn't be burdening me, darlin'." he said, his voice soft, a hint of pleading and urgency in his tone. He knew you better than anyone, and he saw right through the casual words. He knew there was something more to it, something that you weren't saying.

"I'm still your best friend, aren't I?"

In a way he wasn't anymore. And you regretted having fell in love with him and ruining that for yourself. Because if JJ was anything, he was a good friend and an even better best friend. Maybe that was the main reason you fell in love with him in the first place. You looked up at him, your eyes boring into his intensely as you nodded vaguely, "of course you're still my best friend.." you chuckled, although there was no hint of humor behind it, your brain still focused on the feeling of his hand on your knee.

JJ's heart felt heavy in his chest. The way you said 'of course you're still my best friend' felt like a thinly veiled lie. He could practically hear the 'but' at the end of that sentence, and it stung. He wanted to press, to pry and prod until you told him the truth, the real reason why you've become so closed off.. but he didn't have the right to ask about those kinds of details anymore.

He swallowed thickly, his expression tight. His grip on your knee loosened, although he didn't pull his hand back.

He glanced down at the fire, but his mind was spinning. The silence between them was thick and uncomfortable. The others were too wrapped up in their own conversations to notice the tension, but JJ was hyper aware of your every move and reaction.

”Come on.. say something,” he silently pleaded, his gaze flicking back up to your face, trying to figure out what was going on in your mind like he usually did.

"You are still my best friend." you stated, finally placing your hand on top of his. You thought it wouldn't be weird now that you called him your best friend. You knew he didn't believe you when you said it the first time.

JJ's heart fluttered at the feeling of your hand on top of his, a wave of comfort washing over him. It was such a small, casual gesture.. but the significance of finally touching each other made butterflies erupt in his stomach once more. He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching against your knee instinctively.

"Yeah.. I am..." he mumbled, his eyes fixed on where your hand touched his, a mixture of relief and uncertainty in his voice.

A small silence fell over you both, save from the sounds from the fire or the pogues having fun on the porch of the house a few good feet away. You were counting the seconds in your mind of how long you should keep your hand on top of his, studying his face like a creep while he looked away. You were a lost case truly.

JJ could feel your gaze on him even though he was looking away. He tried very hard not to look back at you and meet your eyes. He didn't know if he could handle it right now. He felt strangely vulnerable, but also safe in a way. Like he was a teenage boy with a crush all over again, sitting there with their knees touching.

After several moments, he swallowed hard and finally looked back at you, his heart doing a weird flip when his eyes landed on you. His cheeks flushed a little, betraying his attempt to remain indifferent

He took a deep breath and spoke without thinking, his voice low and slightly hoarse, "You.. you know you can talk to me, right? I'm still the same person, y'know."

He knew he was probably overstepping a boundary. JJ was rarely ever gentle or soft, at least not out loud. But he was trying... he was so damn tired of this distance between the two of you. He missed being your friend, being someone you could talk to. Especially with you sitting here, your hand over his..

"Yeah.. but i think i revealed about everything earlier with that outburst.." you chuckled, squeezing his hand mindlessly, your other hand reaching up to adjust your glasses.

JJ's heart skipped a beat when you squeezed his hand. You're killing me, he thought. Every time your skin touched his, he felt this weird electricity running throughout his body. It was familiar, and it hurt.

"Yeah, but... I meant in general, too." he said, his voice coming out a little hoarse and breathless as he spoke. "You used to talk to me about everything, about your fears, about the future, all of that stuff... we used to share everything with each other..."

"I dunno.. my step-dad's still an asshole.." you mumbled, trying to divert the conversation into another direction. Although talking about your mom's boyfriend Allan wasn't a better upgrade.

JJ's expression darkened at the mention of Allan, his jaw clenching automatically. He knew Allan was one of the main reasons why you hated going home, and why you always sought refuge in the Chateau whenever things got really bad. Just like him.

"Is he still being... y'know. Physical..?" he asked, his tone dropping, the look in his eyes hardening.

"Well.. no. I'm mostly not home. Even so, i try to just-.. not be a smartass." you chuckled dryly, squeezing his hand again as you kept your gaze on him.

The mention of him being physical made JJ's blood boil, but it was a little reassuring that it wasn't as often as it used to be. He felt relieved, but the tension in his chest still didn't ease up.

The fact that you were avoiding going home a lot and staying with the pogues, especially at the Chateau, and the way you just bluntly admitted that you weren't home much to avoid the risk of him being violent... it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He swallowed thickly, his grip on your knee tightening in response to your hand on his, as if to keep you close. To keep you safe. His expression softened as he looked at you, a look of concern and sadness in his eyes.

"Why do you even stay at home, darlin'? You can crash at the Chateau all the time if you want.. hell, i'll even crash on the floor so you can have my room if you want."

"You mean the sofa in the living room?" you spoke, a hint of amusement in your gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips.

JJ rolled his eyes playfully, scoffing at your small smirk, a hint of a grin on his own lips. He knew you were deflecting, but it was a little endearing, especially when you smiled at him.

"Yeah, well, the sofa in the living room would be a hell of a lot more comfortable than staying at home with your old man. And the company would be a lot better, too."

"Dunno if i wanna hear you and Kie going at it all night.." you grinned, although you didn't like the sentence in the slightest. It made you kinda sick to your stomach to think about him and Kie like that.

JJ chuckled and playfully smacked your shoulder, grinning back at your cheeky grin, his expression lighting up for a moment. The casual banter came so naturally to the two of you, and for a moment, it almost felt like old times. Almost.

"You wouldn't have to hear anything, I'd be too damn much of a gentleman to make noise in front of you."

His voice took on a teasing, almost mocking tone, as if he was making fun of himself. But there was a hint of seriousness behind his words. He didn't like the idea of you hearing him being intimate with Kiara. It felt wrong, almost disrespectful to you. Even though you had no idea about his feelings for you.

He didn't know exactly why he felt that way. But he did. Maybe it was because he didn't want you to think any less of him

For some reason, the idea of you hearing him and Kie together was deeply uncomfortable for JJ. He didn't understand quite why. Maybe it was because he didn't want you to think less of him, to hear him in such an intimate state. Or maybe it was because he didn't want you to think he was unfaithful to your friendship. It was confusing and irritating, and he didn't know what to think about it himself.

He shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside. Focusing back on you. God, he had missed talking to you like this.

"You'd have to put up with my snoring, though."

"Yeah, then I'm sticking to being homeless for the time being.." you teased. Your mind wandered to the nights you spent with Rafe after hooking up with him when things were worse than usual, another wave of guilt hitting but you masked it with a grin.

As you joked about being homeless, JJ rolled his eyes and chuckled again, his smile softening. Then suddenly, he noticed a flicker of hesitation on your faces before you masked it with a grin. His expression sobered.

He couldn't quite explain what it was, but something was off about the way you said that, almost as if you were masking something beneath the joke. A nagging feeling tugged at the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite place it.

He studied your face intently for a moment, taking in every small detail, trying to read the emotions hiding behind your smile. Was it guilt? sadness? loneliness?

Then, all of a sudden, an unwelcome thought crossed his mind, like a dark cloud overshadowing the easy banter between the two of you. Was there someone else? Someone that you were crashing with at night when you stayed away from home? Maybe the college guy?

The thought made him feel sick to his stomach, for some reason, but he quickly pushed it away, not wanting to even consider it. It was none of his business, after all. He was your friend — your best friend. That was all.

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad. You'll have the pleasure of waking up to the sight of my gorgeous face every morning. That's got to count for something, right?"

A weird feeling passed through you at his words. The thought of waking up to JJ's face every morning sounded like a dream, and even thinking about something so intimate made your entire being flutter. But it wasn't like that was your place. "Yeah.." you chuckled, glancing back down at his hand still resting on your knee and squeezing it before lifting your own hand from atop of his to adjust your glasses.

JJ didn't miss the flicker of emotion that passed over your face as he spoke, the way your eyes flickered down to the hand that was resting on your knee. He couldn't quite interpret what that look meant.

As you squeezed his hand and then adjusted your glasses, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. He wished he could know what was going on inside your mind, what you were really thinking and feeling. He knew you better than anyone, but there were moments when he wondered if he really knew you at all.

He opened his mouth to speak, planning to say something lighthearted and teasing to break the strange tension that had fallen between the two of you. But then he looked into your eyes, his gaze locking with yours, and his words died on his lips. He just stared at you for a moment, studying your expression.

You held his gaze, a small smile on your face as you stared at each other silently, save from the other pogues still having fun nearby. Your hands were now folded in your lap, fidgeting with the cigarette pack there mindlessly, trying to think of something to say.

For a moment, the world seemed to disappear, it was just the two of you, in your own little bubble. His gaze flickered over your face, taking in every detail. Your pretty eyes, the small dimple on the side of your lips that appeared when you smiled, the way your hair framed your face. You were so beautiful, and he could feel his heart thudding in his chest.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling dry. He wanted to say something, anything to break the silence between you, but he was at a loss for words. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in love with you. Completely, deeply, madly in love with you. And it scared him shitless.

He had never felt this way before. Not with Kie or any other girl he had ever met. It was different with you. You were his best friend, his partner in crime, the person who knew him better than anyone. The person he could rely on no matter what. And now he had gone and fallen in love with you?

He shook his head, trying to push away the thought. It was impossible. You would never feel the same way about him, and even if you did, you were both too messed up to be anything resembling a functional couple. Besides, he was still with Kiara.

He needed to get out of here, needed to clear his head and figure out what he was gonna do about the mess he'd gotten himself into.

He pulled his hand from your knee, scratching the back of his neck and looking away.

"I, uh, gotta take a leak. Be right back."

He got up hastily, shoving his hands in the pockets of his shorts and walking away without looking back, hoping you didn't notice the turmoil of emotions he was going through.

You hummed in response, watching him walk away hastily and feeling awkward all of a sudden. You pulled out another cigarette, lighting it and glancing at the 4 pogues on the porch, still singing along to some song and laughing. Sarah was slow dancing with John B, albeit in a clumsy way due to the alcohol, Pope and Kie watching and making drunk comments. Which caused you to smile to yourself, exhaling the smoke from your cigarette gently.

JJ walked a little farther away from the house, trying to put as much distance between himself and the other pogues as possible. His hands were shaking slightly as he leaned against a tree, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Why did he have to fall in love with you now, of all times?

He let out a sigh, closing his eyes and trying to steady his breaths. He couldn't let you see through him, couldn't let you know how he felt. It would ruin everything.

He let out a frustrated sigh, scrubbing his face with his hand. He knew he should end things with Kiara, knew it wasn’t fair to her. But the thought of losing her made his stomach plummet.

And what about you? Did you feel the same way about him? Or was he just making a fool of himself, getting all hung up on his best friend without any chance of reciprocation. It was all so damn confusing.

He took another drag from his cigarette, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He needed to talk to someone, but who? John B? Pope? No way. They'd never let him hear the end of it. Besides, he was supposed to have his emotions under control. He was the strong one, the fearless one in the group. The one who never let his feelings get the better of him.

He glanced back towards the porch, his gaze settling on you once more. You were now talking to Pope and Kie, but you were far enough that he couldn't hear what you were saying. You were smoking and laughing, and you looked so damn beautiful. A part of him wanted to go back and join the conversation, but the other part wanted to keep avoiding you, to try to get his emotions under control before he ruined everything.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, feeling more conflicted than ever. He was in love with you, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He was loyal to Kie, and he didn’t want to break her heart. And he had no idea if you even reciprocated his feelings. He was stuck in a mess of his own making, and he had no idea how to get out.

He pushed himself off the wall, stomping his cigarette under his shoe with a heavy sigh. He couldn’t hide out here forever, eventually he would have to go back and face the music. He steeled himself and started to make his way back to the group, his expression neutral and his thoughts still racing a million miles a minute.

He reached the porch, joining the others with what he hoped looked like an easy-going smile on his face.

"What’d I miss?"

He leaned against the railing, looking around at his friends. They were all blissfully unaware of the tornado of emotions going on inside his head, blissfully unaware of the fact that everything in his life was currently falling apart thanks to you, the girl he was hopelessly in love with, sitting across from him.

Kie walked over to JJ a bright, drunk smile plastered on her lips as she swung her arms around his neck lazily, "me hopefully.." she chuckled.

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against his chest.

"You know I could never ditch you." He gave her a reassuring smile, though he was inwardly cringing at his own words. He didn't like lying to Kie, but he didn't know how else to act.

You tried your best to spare a casual glance towards the interaction before going back to teasing Pope about something. Although the talk with JJ before he went to pee helped the feeling of longing and sadness was back, even as you laughed with John B and Sarah at the drunken antics of Pope.

JJ glanced back at you as he laughed with the others, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment longer than necessary. He couldn’t help it. You were right there, sitting across from him, looking so damn beautiful and so frustratingly unattainable.

He felt a pang of guilt in his chest, knowing he was supposed to be focused on Kie right now. But he couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried.

He tried to focus on Kie, on the sound of her laughing and the light feel of her body pressed against his. But his mind kept drifting back to you, and he couldn’t help himself from stealing glances at you throughout the conversation. He tried to join in on the jokes, to act like he was having a good time, but it felt like he was stuck in some sort of painful limbo, torn between the girl he was supposed to be with and the girl he was secretly in love with.

As the night wore on, he found himself getting more and more frustrated with himself. He was supposed to be committed to Kie, dedicated to this relationship they had. But here he was, pining after you like some sort of love-sick idiot, wishing things were different. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to end things with Kie. Not yet, anyway.

As the conversation lulled for a moment, he found himself staring at you again. You were laughing at something Sarah said, your head thrown back in a carefree, unrestrained way, and he felt his heart skip a beat. He wanted nothing more than to cross the small distance between you and kiss you senseless.

"Yeah you used to be a bitch... If it wasn't for John B you probably wouldn't even be right here.." you teased Sarah, who was snuggled into John B's side. You tried to hold in another giggle, adjusting your glasses.

Sarah mock-gasped and clutched at her chest."I beg your pardon!" She laughed, giving you a pretend-offended look.

JJ chuckled at the exchange, stealing another glance at you. Your carefree demeanor and easy banter with the others only made his feelings for you more intense. He found himself envying how easily you could laugh and chat while he was struggling internally.

"And now here she is.. our own personal kook princess.." you snorted, gesturing to her in a mock way of people announcing royalty, shaking your head.

Sarah rolled her eyes, but a laugh escaped her lips. She gave you a playful shove. "Hey, I'm no one's princess."

John B snickered, wrapping his arm around Sarah's waist. "You're my princess."

You made fake gagging noises, Pope following along as you both pretended to be sick about the display in a very dramatic manner.

Sarah scowled at the two of you, her feigned offense turning into mock anger. "Oh go to hell, both of you." She flipped you off, sticking her tongue out childishly.

JJ chuckled, thoroughly entertained by the exchange. He looked from you to Sarah and back again, his thoughts swirling. Despite the amused look on his face, his heart was aching. It was like some cruel twist of fate, having you so close yet hopelessly out of reach. He couldn’t help but think about how he’d much rather be sitting next to you, teasing and bantering with you, holding you in his arms.

But as he watched you joke and laugh with the others, he reminded himself that he was taken. He was with Kie, and that’s where he was supposed to be. He couldn’t act on his feelings for you. Not now, at least. So he forced himself to look away from you, forcing himself to focus on Kie and the conversation at hand. But his eyes kept drifting back to you, drawn to your presence like a magnet.

As the night progressed and the alcohol flowed, JJ found himself growing more and more restless. His eyes kept drifting back to you, and he had to fight the urge to go over and talk to you. He tried to engage Kie in conversation, to focus on his relationship, but everything just felt so damn strained and forced.

He felt like he was drowning, caught between his feelings for you and his loyalty to Kie. He just wanted to be with you, but he didn’t want to hurt Kie. It was a catch-22 that was driving him insane, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the act.

The bass thumped through the beach house, vibrating beneath your feet. Laughter, shouting, and music blurred together as bodies pressed close, drinks spilled, and the air grew thick with salt and smoke. Another party, another night. Ditching the pogues didn't seem like such a good idea anymore as you scanned the pulsating crowd inside the massive beach house, no familiar face sticking out. Here these people were, dressed in designer clothes and wearing perfumes that cost more than your shitty trailer, trashing the beautiful beach house for a party. Which in retrospect wasn't your usual field of activity. Your old crop top, cut-out shorts and beat up sneakers probably stood out like a sore thumb against the pastel colors of polo shirts and expensive flowy summer dresses.

But it was a house party. Everyone was allowed to show up, and if you stood out of the Kooks' ways you'd manage to get drunk on good liquor to forget everything. The fights, the slaps, the hurtful words from your mom. The lingering looks of her boyfriend of the week which made your skin crawl and your door to remain locked throughout the night whenever you slept at home. And you had a feeling you'd do it more often.

JJ and Kiara didn't really need to make a show of announcing their relationship officially. Before today they were disappearing during parties together, spent time alone from the group. And your lovesick mind put it past the fact that they were just getting closer. Tried to lie to your self that JJ didn't like Kiara that way, that it was just... a fleeting crush. But it wasn't. Kiara pulled you and Sarah away from the boys in the kitchen of the chateau and whispered excitedly that her and JJ had finally "made it official." Which meant the two had been hooking up from some time casually.

You drowned out the excited squeals from Sarah and looked away when she hugged Kie as if she won some great prize. A prize that should've been yours. Still you patted Kiara's back with as much excitement as you could before excusing your self to the bathroom. The heartbreak and the anxiety which was weighing down on you from the weeks prior caused you to wretch violently into the toilet, puking out the small amount of food you had that day.

Now here you were, your swaying feet carrying you to the makeshift bar, glassy eyes scanning the drink options from behind your glasses. Vodka. You needed more vodka, more weed, more of everything that the kooks had to offer. Maybe even coke if you were lucky.

As you stood by the bar, you felt someone's eyes on you. You turned around to see none other than Rafe Cameron staring at you.

He was leaning against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you from across the room. His brown hair was disheveled, and he was holding a beer in one hand.

Rafe Cameron. The older brother of one of your best friends. Handsome in a very manic way and suffering from an acute case of bad attitude and entitlement. Maybe even bipolar disorder if you were to get professional. You caught his blue eyes from across the room and discarded the interaction as soon as it happened, eyes dropping to your red solo cup. You poured too much vodka and too little orange juice, but you were already tipsy so you didn't really feel it.

Rafe came up to you, his lean frame towering over your smaller self. He took a sip of his beer, eyes still fixed on you. "Hey."

He spoke in his raspy, deep voice, a smirk still on his face. You could practically feel the smugness radiate off of him from this close.

His gaze made you feel naked, like an exposed nerve. Or like a girl at a party full of strangers, who's posture and movements screamed 'easy to take advantage of.' Which you were. But you didn't need to feel like it. You didn't need to feel anything, so that's why you brought the cup to your lips taking a big gulp, grimacing only slightly at the burning sensation.

A long pause stretched between you two, in which you assessed the older boy with a critical eye, as critical as you could while you were on your way to get even more tipsy. "Are you talking to me?" you asked, pointing to yourself, pretending to be unaware that he greeted you.

Rafe chuckled in amusement, leaning against the bar. He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze never leaving yours. "Yeah, I'm talking to you."

He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping slightly. "You look different tonight." There was curiosity in his eyes, a glint of something darker and more intense.

Your gaze roamed over his features, which inched closer, maybe to hear each other over the music better, or to intimidate you. You weren't sure which. You could never know with the Cameron boy. And although you'd interacted before, it was never good. He was a handful when your paths crossed at the country-club, where you worked as a bartender. Seriously, he was very entitled. Thought his customer experience and satisfaction was the only one deserving of special attention. And when you weren't encountering each other at the country-club he was out and about with Topper and Kelce trying to piss of your best friends.

So him approaching you was weird but not out of the question. "I'm not wearing the apron and the stupid gloves, country-club.." you replied sardonically, "you want me to mix you up a drink or what?"

Rafe chuckled, a smirk on his face, and leaned in even closer. "I could use another drink, bartender." He spoke in a low tone, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze again.

His hand came up to grip your hip, the action both possessive and familiar, as though he had done it before. "I came over to get a better look at you.. You're a lot prettier than I remember."

"Yeah you could, you seem awfully thirsty..." you nodded, eyes glancing down at his hand resting casually on your hip. His last comment didn't really phase you, if he wasn't doing something unhinged he was flirting with girls at parties. At least that's what you were hoping was happening here.

Rafe chuckled again, his thumb gently tracing a small circle on your hip as he moved even closer, his chest nearly touching yours now. "Thirsty is one way to put it.." he spoke in a low, rough voice. His gaze traveled over your face, lingering on your eyes before flicking down to your lips again. "You're a lot more than just pretty, though.. You've got this whole 'dark and mysterious' thing going for you."

Despite yourself, you found your lips stretching into a small grin. You raised your hand, dragging your index finger over his chest, feigning interest in him. "You do know I'm 17 right?" you asked in sweet tone, the look in your eyes betraying it. Your hand pushed him back a little, your actions gentle and less harsh.

Rafe let your push him back, his smirk widening. He took another step towards you, his body still close, but not as close as before. His gaze held yours, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Yes ma'am, I do know that. I'm 21.. But I don't really think the age difference really matters, does it?" he replied, his tone both playful and serious. His hand moved from your hip to your chin, tilting your face upwards. "I think you're a lot older than your age."

You turned your head from his grip, letting out a small snort of amusement, leaning against the table for support, "Are you trying to hit on me, country-club?" you asked, raising your eyes to lock with his blue ones.

Rafe chuckled, his hand still clutching your chin. He leaned in closer again, his face inches from yours, his smirk turning cocky.

"Maybe I am, little bartender.. Or maybe I'm just bored and drunk."

He paused, his gaze fixed on your lips before he continued, his voice dropping to a low, almost playful tone. "Though I have a feeling you're not as innocent as you look.."

"You just told me i have this 'mysterious and dark' thing going on for me.." you narrowed your eyes playfully at him, reaching up to adjust your glasses.

Rafe's smirk widened as you spoke, his gaze still locked on yours.

"True, you do have that whole 'Mysterious and dark' thing going on. But maybe that's what makes you so intriguing.." He replied, his hand still on your chin, gently tilting your face up to keep your eyes locked on his.

"Care to show me just how mysterious and dark you can get, little bartender? I'm curious to see."

Your smirk widened as if he had just fallen into the most funniest trap ever, shifting away from his grip to dig through your shorts' pocket. You pulled out a small switchblade, your initials carved on the wood of it. You flicked the blade open, grinning proudly as you showed it off, the blade glinting under the light.

Rafe quirked an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to the switchblade in your hand, a mix of surprise and interest on his face. He took a step closer, his head tilting to the side as he examined the initials engraved on the wood.

"Wow, bartender.. You know how to keep a guy on edge. That's not a bad quality.." He said, his smirk matching your own.

He reached out, grabbing your wrist gently, his gaze moving from the knife to your eyes. "Looks like you're not so innocent after all."

You didn't waste time tilting the blade right back at his face, still grinning, "And you don't seem to be scared of pogue girls carrying switchblades around and partying with your kook friends.."

Rafe's smirk didn't falter. If anything, he seemed more amused than ever. "Scared? Of you? Please.. I'm not afraid of some pogue girl with a switchblade."

He took a small step closer, leaning closer to the blade, his gaze still locked on yours, almost challenging. "And to be honest, I think it's kind of hot."

You glanced around the party for a few moments, noticing that some kooks were shooting questioning glances in your direction for holding a blade to Rafe's face. But that didn't deter you, in fact the alcohol in your system and the desire for a distraction was winning over your shame. Rafe released your wrist as you trailed the tip of the blade down to his chin and chest, stopping just shy of his belt. "So you're into knife play then.."

Rafe's eyes followed the blade as you dragged it over his face and chest, a smirk still on his lips. The kooks around them whispered and shot questioning glances, but he didn't seem bothered. If anything, he was enjoying the public attention.

He chuckled at your last comment, leaning closer, his eyes glinting with a dark, primal need.

"Maybe I am.. You want to find out, bartender..?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze flicked between the blade and your eyes, his body leaning in

You trailed it even lower, sinking the tip of the blade a little in the leather of his belt, smirk growing even more. "I think i can already tell for myself.." you murmured teasingly.

Rafe's smirk grew into a cocky, confident grin. He could feel his body reacting to your teasing, a wave of desire washing over him. He didn't care that there were people around them, watching their every move. All he cared about was you and that damn smirk on your face.

"You're being awfully cocky for a pogue with a small knife.." he leaned even closer, his face now right in front of yours. The blade was dangerously close to the crotch of his jeans, but he didn't seem fazed at all.

In retrospect flirting with Rafe Cameron at a kook party, while your friends blew up your phone probably looking for you, was a bad idea. But you liked bad ideas. You were full of them. And Rafe wasn't by any means ugly, he was charming and he knew how to handle whatever weird, drunk flirting you were throwing him. "I'm just cocky usually. Is there anything small about you? Aside from your IQ, of course.." you trailed off, dragging the blade above the belt now and slipping under his shirt a little. The tip of the blade now grazing the small happy trail above the belt, under his shirt.

Rafe's gaze darkened with desire, a low, rough chuckle escaping his lips. "Small IQ? That's a cheap shot, bartender."

He leaned closer, his body now pressed against yours, his breath hot on your face. "But no.. There's nothing small about me. And I'm more than happy to prove it to you.." he murmured, the hint of a challenge in his voice.

He watched as you dragged the tip of the blade down his happy trail, his body tingling with excitement. He could feel his control slowly slipping away, but he'd enjoy the thrill of it all

You couldn't help but feel the smirk grow wider across your face at his words, your ego inflating, your alcohol-laced confidence bubbling over. You were enjoying this a little too much, but you were too drunk to care. The adrenaline mixed with the feeling of power you held above him was making you feel like you were floating.

"Is that so? You talk big for someone who's so easily charmed by me pressing a sharp blade to his happy trail country-club.."

He chuckled at that, the smirk on his face matching yours. He was enjoying this little power struggle, the knife to his stomach only heightening his excitement. The adrenaline rushing through his veins made him feel alive, almost feral. He leaned closer, his lips near your ear.

"You think you have the upper hand just because you're holding a knife to my abdomen, bartender? You might be cocky, but I'm not afraid of a little blade. In fact, I think it makes you even hotter..."

You let out a chuckle, shaking your head at his words and retreating the blade, flicking it away from Rafe's eyes and stashing it in your pocket. "Don't tell me you got a hard-on from me pressing a knife to your stomach.." you teased, leaning back against the table with drinks, taking a sip from your forgotten red solo cup.

Rafe smirked, his gaze roaming over your body, taking in the sight of you leaning back against the table, cocky and seductive. He took a step closer, his body now towering over you, his gaze dark with desire.

"And what if I do? Are you gonna make fun of me for it.. Little bartender?"

He reached out, his hand gripping your hip and pulling you closer to him until your bodies were flush against each other. His fingers traced over the skin where your shorts ended, teasing the sensitive area just above it.

You nodded knowingly, "Degradation kink, too?" you asked coyly, not minding the distance shrinking between the two of you.

Rafe's smirk widened at your comment, his grip on your hip tightening as he pressed you harder against the table. He leaned in even closer, his face now inches away from yours, his voice low and gruff.

"Maybe.. And I bet you're just the kind of girl who'd get off on humiliating me, aren't you, bartender?..."

You tilted your head back a little, to properly look into his eyes, your smirk turning into something less cocky and more arousal filled, "Oh, country-club I'd humiliate you in ways you've never been before. While riding your brains out.." you leaned in slightly, as if you were telling a secret, before leaning back.

Rafe's pupils dilated, his grip on you now almost painful. He let out a low growl, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His free hand rested on the side of your neck, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. He pushed you against the table, his hips pressing into yours as he ground against you.

"You're filthy, you know that.. a sick little thing who gets off on making men like me feel small.. but I bet you'd love it if I put you in your place..."

"Do you feel small?" you asked, feigning curiosity and casualness while his big hand rested against the side of your neck.

Rafe chuckled, his grip on your neck growing a little bit tighter. His gaze darkened with desire, his expression turning a little menacing.

"No. But having you boss me around and push me around like I'm some kind of puppy does make me feel a little.. Humbled."

You nodded at that, the smirk returning to your face. You took a step away from him, your expression shifting from cocky to playful as you eyed him up and down.

"Aww, big country-club boy feeling a little threatened by a small town bartender..." you cooed, your hand moving up to pat the side of his face patronizingly.

Rafe's jaw clenched, his expression hardening at your patronizing tone. He was used to people treating him with respect and fear, not patronization. But he had to admit, there was something a little bit exciting about being belittled by you.

"I'm not feeling threatened by you, bartender. But I am feeling a little bit... intrigued. You think you can just boss me around and I'll do whatever you say?" he scoffed, leaning in closer to you again, his gaze intense.

"I'll give you a prize if you do.." you grinned, cooing softly under your breath as you dropped your gaze on his lips.

Rafe's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze following yours down to your lips.

"And what kind of prize do I get if I'm a good boy and do what the bartender says?" he asked, his voice low and gruff. He took a step closer, his body now pressing against yours. His hand crept up to grip your hip again, his fingers digging into the skin through the fabric of your shorts.

"Me, country-club. Duh.." you chuckled, shaking your head.

Rafe's smirk widened, his grip on you growing a little bit tighter. He leaned in a bit closer, his lips hovering just above yours.

"You're gonna give me you as a prize?" he asked, his tone a little bit teasing. His gaze flicked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. His fingers slid down to grip the bare skin of your thigh, his touch possessive and sure.

Rafe chuckled, his touch on your thigh growing bolder as he leaned in even closer. His lips grazed yours, his breath hot and ragged as he spoke.

"And what's the bartender gonna do if the country-club boy doesn't behave..?" he growled, his hand creeping up your thigh to grip your hip, pulling you even closer to his body. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, a challenge.

All your cocky demeanor melted into something more lustful and needy. He was driving you insane. You hated it. You hated that he got under your skin like this. This was Rafe Cameron, not just some guy you should flirt at a party with. "Maybe I'll use the blade on you.."

Rafe's smirk widened, his hand gripping your hip even harder. He was getting a kick out of this. He liked that he could make you so flustered, make you want him like this. And he was more than willing to take advantage of it.

"Oh yeah? You gonna stab me, bartender?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. His body was now pressed tightly against yours, his hand moving from your hip to slide up your side.

"Yep." you nodded popping the 'P' "Just like how they do on The Cut.." you raised your hand to pat the side of his face patronizingly once again.

Rafe's jaw clenched at your patronizing touch, his gaze hardening. But there was something in his expression that was almost.. aroused by it. He was used to being feared, respected, not belittled like this. But it was stirring up something inside him, something he didn't quite understand.

"You really enjoy bossing me around, don't you bartender?" he asked, his voice a little shaky, betraying his arousal. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath ragged and hot.

You found yourself nodding once again, smirking slightly as you looked down at his lips hovered above yours, "and you're aroused by it, so i assume I'm doing something right."

Rafe couldn't deny it, but he'd be a proud little bastard all night long.

"Maybe a little..." he rasped out, his voice low and gruff. His hand was still on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you even closer to him, his body now flush against yours. His lips were still hovering just above yours, close enough to feel each others breath but not touching.

Rafe's self control was slipping. He could feel the heat radiating off of you, your body pressed up against his in all the right places. He wanted you more than he wanted anything in the world right now, and he was getting impatient. He could feel his own breathing growing ragged, his chest rising and falling with the effort of containing himself. But he knew better than to let his lust get the best of him.

"Bartender... I don't think you understand how much self restraint I'm exercising at the moment. You're really testing me here."

You let out a breathless chuckle, adjusting your glasses and bringing the cup to your lips to take another sip of your vodka orange. You were aware just how wrong this was. This was Rafe Cameron, the kook prince and the person who despised your friends the most. Still, you were drunk and heartbroken and Rafe looked so good tonight. You were just a girl after all, "So what do you want me to do?" you asked him teasingly, locking eyes with him once again.

Rafe's gaze darkened with desire as he looked at you. He was struggling to control himself, but you were pushing him to the edge. He leaned in even closer to you, his lips now just a breath away from yours. His hand gripped your hip tighter, holding you in place.

"You know exactly what I want." he growled, his voice low and rough. He was past caring about the wrongness of it, past caring that you were supposed to hate each other. All he cared about in that moment was you.

"No, i don't actually. Clue me in.." you teased, still smirking at him.

Rafe's patience was running thin. He was done with the teasing, done with the back and forth. He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

"You wanna play this game, huh bartender? Fine." he growled, his hand sliding from your hip to your waist, his grip tight and determined. He pulled you even closer to him, his body now pressing against yours as he leaned in to speak into your ear.

"How about this? You tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."

You hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider his words. You raised your hand, running it through the hair at the back of his head lazily, "Honestly, i just wanted a distraction when i came here.." you mumbled.

Rafe's breath hitched as you ran your hand through his hair. The way you touched him was both soothing and arousing, and it was driving him insane. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling of your fingers on his scalp.

"Is that so?" he asked, his voice low and rough. He pulled away just a bit so he could look down at you, his gaze intense and serious. "And what kind of distraction were you looking for, exactly?"

"I was gonna get blackout drunk and high.." you smiled up at him, eyes drifting down to his lips for a few seconds.

Rafe's lips curled into a small smirk as he noticed you looking at his lips. He lifted your chin with his finger, tilting your head back so that your eyes were locked with his. There was something mischievous in his gaze, a sly glint that made it clear he was up to something.

"And you think I can help with that, huh?" he asked, his tone slightly mocking. He ran his fingers through your hair, feeling the softness of it against his skin. "I can get you drunk and high, no problem." he leaned in a little closer, his voice still teasing.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks redden a bit under his gaze. You were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol and the weed, your head spinning just a bit. You leaned into him, your body seeking the comfort of his presence. You were both drunk and high, and there was something about Rafe in this state that made him even more attractive to you.

You were vaguely aware of the music around you, the sound of people partying, but it all felt distant and unimportant. The only thing that mattered was Rafe and the heat that was building between the two of you. "And what after?" you asked.

Rafe chuckled softly, noticing the way you leaned into him. He could see the effects of the alcohol and the weed taking hold, and it made him feel a sense of power over you. He liked having this effect on you.

"After?" he repeated, his voice low and silky. He ran his hand down your arm, his fingers tracing a lazy pattern on your skin, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "After we're both wasted, I'll take you back to my place." he told you bluntly.

"And what if your sister sees me?" you chuckled lowly, wrapping your arms around his neck lazily.

Rafe's expression darkened briefly when you mentioned his sister, but he quickly shook it off and focused on you once again. He pulled you closer to him, his arm wrapping around your waist as he spoke.

"Sarah? She's always out with her damn boyfriend." he replied, his tone a mix of annoyance and nonchalance. "And even if she was there, she wouldn't care. She's got her own vices to worry about."

"Yeah, her boyfriend being one of my best friends... You know my friends hate you right?" you narrowed your eyes, smirking drunkenly up at him, carding your fingers through his hair.

Rafe grunted, his expression hardening at the mention of your friends. He didn't like being reminded of how much they disliked him, but he was too distracted by your touch to care too much.

"Yeah, I'm aware." he scoffed, his tone bitter. "Your little Pogue club has made it abundantly clear how much they hate me."

"I wonder why..." you giggled, tugging his hair lightly.

Rafe let out a low hiss of pain as you tugged his hair, but the hint of anger quickly melted away at the sound of your giggles. He leaned in closer to you, his breath hot on your neck as he spoke.

"I know why." he said darkly. "They're just a group of jealous little shits, too blinded by their own self-righteousness to see things for how they really are."

"What about me? you think I'm the same?" you asked, tilting your head to the side questioningly.

Rafe studied you for a moment, his gaze roaming over your face. There was something different about you, something that set you apart from your friends. Maybe it was the way you didn't hesitate to touch him or the way you didn't immediately shut down his advances.

"No." he said finally, his voice soft. He ran his hand down your cheek, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "I don't think you're like them. You're different."

Your smile widened at his words despite them coming from the person you were supposed to despise. "How so?" you wondered out loud, shivering slightly as he ran his knuckles against your cheek.

Rafe let out a dry chuckle, his hand still cupping your cheek. There was a hint of arrogance in his voice as he spoke, as though he knew something you didn't.

"You're not so caught up in your own bullshit like the rest of your group." he said bluntly. "You're a little more open-minded, a little more willing to entertain the idea that maybe I'm not the worst person in the world.”

"Oh no, you are. I just wanna feel like i have control over who I'm going home with.. I don't plan on making a habit on sleeping with you." you mirrored the arrogance in his voice, smiling a little condescendingly.

Rafe's expression darkened, his jaw clenching at your condescending tone. He wasn't used to being talked to like this, especially from someone he considered beneath him. His grip on your waist tightened, but he tried to keep his voice steady.

"Is that so?" he said evenly. "You think you have control in this situation? You're in my world now, sweetheart. And I make the rules here."

Your expression remained neutral as you looked back at him, your tone becoming more challenging. You knew Rafe was used to being the one in charge, but you weren't going to make it easy for him.

"Funny." you said, tilting your head to the side. "I didn't realize this was your world. Last time I checked, it looked an awful lot like the same world I live in."

Rafe's grip on your waist tightened even more, his eyes narrowing at your defiant tone. He was growing irritated at your unwillingness to submit, but he also found it strangely intriguing. No one had ever dared to challenge him like this before.

"Oh, sweetheart." he said darkly. "You don't know a damn thing about my world. My world is filled with power, money, and influence. You..you're just a little Pogue from the wrong side of the tracks."

"Come on, country-club.. Is that how you charm girls usually? By insulting their social status?" you asked, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

Rafe grunted, his irritation growing at your mocking tone. He had a million things he wanted to say to you, but he also didn't want to give you the satisfaction of getting under his skin.

"I don't need to charm anyone, sweetheart." he said through clenched teeth. "Girls flock to me like bees to honey. I have my pick of the litter."

"Yet, you're still trying to get into my pants.." you continued to card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, looking around for the said girls flocking to him.

Rafe's cheeks reddened at your bluntness, and he tried to hide his embarrassment by scoffing and rolling his eyes. But deep down, he knew you had a point. He was usually surrounded by girls vying for his attention, but here he was, focused solely on you. "Yeah, well." he muttered. "Maybe I just felt like slummin' it a little tonight."

This only earned him another condescending laugh from you. You found it amusing how he was trying to act like he was doing you a favor by giving you attention, like he was the one making some selfless sacrifice. "Yeah, sure. You're doing me a real favor here." you said sarcastically. "I'm sure you're having just as much fun slumming it up with me as I am with you."

Rafe's irritation boiled over at your mocking tone. He wasn't used to being made fun of, especially not by someone he viewed as beneath him. He pulled you closer to him, his grip on your waist so tight it was almost bruising.

"Watch it." he growled, his eyes narrowing. "I'm doing you a goddamn favor by even giving you the time of day. You're nothing but a little Pogue trash. You should be grateful I'm even talking to you."

You placed your hand over your heart pretending to be hurt by his words. "That's not nice, now is it? And here i thought you were gonna take me home.." you shook your head, leaning in teasingly.

Rafe's jaw clenched as you taunted him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to shut you up by kissing you or by throttling you. The way you leaned into him, your face so close he could feel the heat radiating off your skin, was driving him crazy.

"Don't test me." he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "I can make your night either hell or heaven."

Your expression hardened, looking down almost thoughtfully as your mind drifted towards the night you had. The fight with your mom, JJ and Kiara, the bitterness. Your night was already hell, "I don't think you can make it worse, to be honest.." you mumbled, unwrapping your arms from around his neck to adjust your glasses and take a final gulp of your drink.

Rafe softened a little at your words, sensing that something was bothering you. He loosened his grip on your waist, his hand now resting lightly on the curve of your hip.

"Rough night, huh?" he asked, his tone gentler than before. He couldn't quite place it, but there was something about you that made him feel oddly protective

"Very.." you nodded, letting out a bitter chuckle as you scanned the partying crowd lazily.

Rafe let out a small sigh, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on your hip. He was still irritated at you, but he also couldn't help but feel the urge to comfort you. It was like he could see the pain and anger bubbling beneath your surface, and he felt a strange compulsion to help you find comfort, even if it was just temporary.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asked, his gaze locked on yours.

You poked the inside of your cheek with the tip of your tongue. You knew sleeping with a random guy, much less sleeping with Rafe Cameron would help. But you didn't wanna go home tonight nor did you wanna crash at the Chateau. You studied his face, his flushed cheeks and messy hair and you found yourself smiling wearily, "You gonna let me use the blade on you?" you asked teasingly, leaning in once again.

Rafe chuckled at your question, his irritation melting away as you leaned in closer. His gaze was fixated on your lips as he watched them curl into a tired smirk. There was something about you that drove him crazy, and he couldn't deny his own desire for you. He rolled his eyes dramatically, "Only if you promise not to draw blood." he replied, his tone playful and teasing.

"I promise.." you murmured lowly, grazing your finger over his chest playfully.

Rafe's breath hitched at the feel of your touch on his chest, his eyes darkening with lust. The way you were looking at him, so confident and yet so vulnerable, was driving him insane. He couldn't help but smirk, his gaze flicking down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

"Care to find a quieter place?" he said, his voice thick with desire.

You looked around, the music thumping into your ears and making your lungs vibrate from the bass. You turned back to him, letting your glassy eyes roam over his face, "Upstairs or you wanna just go to your place?" you found yourself asking even though a small part of your mind was screaming at you not to go through with it.

Rafe's smirk widened at your question, his eyes glinting with desire and excitement.

"My place." he said firmly, his grip on your hip tightening as he spoke. "It's closer, and we won't be interrupted."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, "I've got a bottle of Jack waiting for us, and a bottle of Jack is a friend of mine."

You smiled at the thought of getting even more wasted, and finishing the night off in a way that would make your mind drift away from your problems, even just for a few hours. The drive to the Cameron house was blurry, hurried and full of tension despite knowing how utterly wrong it was to let Rafe take you home.

He lead you up the grand staircase, his grip on your hand sure and determined. You were swaying slightly, definitely feeling the effects of the vodka and other alcohol you had that night, small quiet giggles escaping your lips as he dragged through the dark hallway at the top of the stairs. You weren't really used to seeing the house bathed in so much darkness, eyes drifting over the multiple tall, white doors, on every side of you.

Rafe chuckled at your giggles, his own movements a little unsteady as he guided you down the hallway. The alcohol was starting to get to him too, but he was determined to ignore the dizziness and keep his attention focused on you.

"Third door on the left." he said, his voice gruff with both desire and intoxication.

He opened the door, and quickly pulled you inside. The room was elegant and spotless, with a large bed taking up most of the space in the middle.

You looked around the room bathed only in the silvery moonlight before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a hurried kiss, lips moving with a sense of urgency.

Rafe returned the kiss just as eagerly, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks instinctively. He pushed you against the door, his body pressing close to yours as the kiss deepened. His fingers tangled in your hair, and he swallowed your little whimpers and gasps, feeling a wave of desire wash over him. With a sharp tug, he pulled away slightly, his breath ragged and his gaze dark with lust.

"Bed. Now." he growled, his voice thick with need.

"What about-.." you panted softly, adjusting your glasses, "You said something about a bottle of Jack.."

Rafe's smirk returned at your words, his eyes gleaming with amusement and excitement.

"You're right." he said, his voice dropping down to a low, taunting murmur.

He reluctantly pulled himself away from your body and walked over to the mini bar in the corner of the room. He reached down and retrieved an already open bottle of Jack Daniel's.

"You want a glass? Or should we just drink straight from the bottle?" he asked, holding up the bottle suggestively.

You grinned at the sight of the opened bottle of whiskey, walking over to him and grabbing the bottle from his hand, unscrewing the cap and taking a slow swig. You stepped closer, wrapping your free arm around his shoulder for support, leaning in for a fleeting kiss, "I don't like glasses.." you murmured when you pulled away, still grinning up at him.

Rafe watched as you took a long pull from the bottle, his eyes fixed on your lips and throat. The sight of you drinking straight from the bottle was oddly erotic, and he couldn't help but smirk at your words.

"You're trouble." he teased, his voice low and his arms wrapping around your waist.

He took the bottle from your hand and took a mouthful, his gaze locked onto your face as he swallowed with a satisfied hiss.

He set the bottle down on the nearby dresser, his hands roaming over your waist and pulling you closer to him. His body was pressed against yours, and he could feel the heat radiating off of you. He leaned in, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as he spoke, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. "You taste like booze.."

"So do you.." you leaned in, chasing his lips in the dim light for another slow kiss, enjoying the sounds he made as he kissed you. Your head was spinning a little and you no longer cared about the consequences of your actions, the desire and arousal overpowering every feeling.

Rafe deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking against yours briefly, before he pulled away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck. His breathing was heavy as he began to trail a path of kisses and nips down your neck, his hands sliding down your body until they reached the hem of your shirt.

"Lift up your arms, baby.." he whispered, his voice low and husky with arousal.

You took off your glasses setting them down on the bar behind you before lifting your arms in a languid motion so he discarded your old crop top somewhere in the dimly lit room. You were left in your shorts and your black lacy bra, smirking up at him.

Rafe's eyes roamed over your body, appreciating every inch of your exposed skin. He swallowed hard, his gaze darkening as he took in the sight of you in just your shorts and bra. He let out a low, appreciative whistle, before grasping your hips and pulling you closer, so that your bodies were pressed against each other once more.

He lifted a hand, gently brushing his thumb over the lace of your bra, his touch light and teasing.

He leaned in, his hot breath tickling your ear as he began to kiss and bite down your neck. His hands traveled up your waist, his fingers softly tracing the outline of your bra as he sucked and nipped at your skin. He was losing himself in the desire, his movements becoming rougher, more desperate.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful..." he murmured, his hands trailing down to your shorts, his fingers playing with the waistband.

You chuckled lightly as he bit and mouthed at your neck, a stark contrast from the cocky guy who approached you at the party. You raised your hands, tangling them in his light-brown hair, messing it up as he continued to nip at your soft flesh, pulling small gasps and sighs from you.

Rafe groaned softly at the feeling of your fingers in his hair, the sound low and feral in his throat. His hands were all over your body, as if he couldn't get enough of your touch, your skin against his. His fingers ghosted up your bare sides, causing you to shiver slightly, his lips never leaving your neck as he sucked and kissed and bit his way across the sensitive skin.

He was quickly starting to come undone before your very eyes, the cocky exterior melting away to raw desire and need.

He lifted you up suddenly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he walked forward and pressed you against the nearby wall. His hips were grinding against yours, the friction of his jeans against your shorts nearly maddening, his body burning hot against yours. Rafe's kisses grew more fierce as his hands roamed your body, his fingers leaving a trail of fire against your skin with every touch.

You cupped his face almost hastily, pulling him for a hurried kiss, muffling the small sounds spilling from your lips from the grinding of his hips. You wrapped your legs around his waist more tightly, arching into his chest as you deepened the kiss, mirroring his desperation.

Rafe was consumed by his desire for you, his body pressing against you as if he couldn't get close enough. He eagerly reciprocated the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a growing need, his hands gripping your thighs as he practically pinned you to the wall.

He rocked his hips forward, grinding against you, a deep moan of pleasure escaping him between kisses. His head was spinning, his thoughts a hazy mess of need and want. All he knew was that he couldn't get enough of you, that he needed to be as close to you as possible.

He broke the kiss, his lips leaving yours to trail slowly down your neck, leaving hot kisses along your collarbone, biting and nipping at the sensitive skin. His hot breath panted against your ear, his lips whispering filthy words in a low tone.

He knew he was losing control, but he didn't care. He wanted you, needed you, more than he'd ever needed anything in his life. His hands were roaming your body, pulling you closer, even as you were already pressed against the wall.

You closed your eyes, your fingers tightening in his hair, your body arching into his touch and his words. You were completely lost in him, drunk on his touch and his scent, your skin feeling like it was on fire wherever he touched you. You couldn't think straight, your thoughts a hazy cloud of desire. All you could do was cling to him, your chest heaving with uneven breaths and needy moans. You knew it should be wrong, but right now, it felt so right.

Rafe was consumed by the same fierce desire that was coursing through you. He was on fire, his every touch and movement, driven by a primal need to have you, to be close to you. He lifted his head from your neck, his eyes locking onto yours, their gaze dark and intense. He was drunk on you, intoxicated by the sounds you made, the way your body reacted to his touch. His voice was a low, ragged whisper against your ear.

"I need you... I need you right now."

You locked eyes with him in the semi-darkness nodding with a drunk and aroused grin, "Get on the bed then.." you murmured, still carding your fingers through his hair almost soothingly as you tried to catch your breath.

Rafe's eyes darkened with raw desire at the sound of your voice, his body responding immediately to your command. He didn't need to be told twice. He lifted you up in his arms effortlessly, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you tightly. He carried you across the room, his steps quick and confident, as he made his way to the nearby bed.

He laid you down gently, his body following suit, hovering over you. His breaths were coming in short, ragged puffs as he took in the sight of you, his eyes roaming over your form hungrily.

You let out a satisfied chuckle, your palms roaming over his shoulders before one of your hand reached down to pluck the small switchblade from the pocket of your shorts, "Wanna have some fun, country-club?"

His eyes darted down to the switchblade, a mix of surprise and excitement flickering across his face. A smirk formed on his lips as he nodded, his eyes locked onto yours, his expression a wicked mix of curiosity and desire.

He lowered himself down until the weight of his body was pressed against yours. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "Show me what you can do with that blade..."

You flipped him over, straddling his hips in a swift motion. You flipped the blade out trailing it down his chest teasingly before stopping above his belt. You smirked up at him, digging the tip of the blade into the leather once again, "You like this belt?" you asked lowly.

He raised his eyebrow at your quick movement, a surprised gasp escaping his lips as you straddled him. His heart was hammering in his chest, a mix of excitement and anticipation coursing through him as the blade danced across his chest.

He swallowed, his eyes never leaving yours as he answered your question. His voice was husky and low, filled with a mix of arousal and curiosity. "Yeah... It's my favorite.."

You pretended to pout, hooking one finger under the belt raising it slightly, placing the blade under it. In another swift motion you cut through the leather without undoing the buckle, pulling the belt from the beltloops and discarding it somewhere on the floor.

Rafe's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and arousal flashing across his face as you expertly sliced through the belt without bothering to undo it. He swallowed again, his chest rising and falling a little quicker than before as he watched you toss the belt aside.

His gaze flicked back to your face, a slow, cocky smirk replacing the somewhat shocked expression on his face. He inhaled sharply, "That was hot.." he murmured, his eyes roaming over your form, taking you in as he lay underneath you.

His hands found their way to your thighs, his fingers slowly trailing up your legs, leaving a trail of heat wherever they went. His touch was light, teasing, as if he was mapping out every inch of your skin. He looked up at you from where you were straddling him, his eyes still dark with desire, his smirk never leaving his lips.

He moved his hands to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, pulling you closer against him. He leaned up just enough to murmur against your ear, his voice low and gravelly, "I hope you have more tricks up your sleeve.."

You chuckled, leaning back slightly. You hooked another finger under one of your bra straps, grinning down at him as you sliced through it too, watching his reaction intently. "We're even now.." you murmured, chuckling as you cut through the other strap, placing the blade in your mouth to reach behind you and undo the clasp, pulling the scrap of lace away from your chest.

Rafe's smirk transformed into a devilish grin as he watched you effortlessly slice through the straps of your bra, his eyes glued to the motion. He chuckled along with you, his hands roaming over your thighs, almost kneading like a cat, when you leaned back again, discarding your bra somewhere on the floor. His nostrils flared, his breaths coming out in short, ragged spurts, as he took in the sight of your bare chest.

He shifted under you, his body moving as he tried to find a more comfortable position against the bed.

His eyes were still locked on yours, his gaze hungry and intense. His hands slid up your thighs, his touch firm and possessive, as he pulled you towards him again. He wanted you closer, he needed to be closer. His words were a low growl that rumbled in his chest.

"You're so damn hot... And so goddamn good with knives.. Where did you learn this at..?" He asked as he reached your hips, gripping you and forcing you even closer to him.

You hummed pretending to think about his question before smirking "The Cut is a very dangerous place.." you cooed. "Take off your shirt.." you commanded softly.

Rafe chuckled, amused by your snarky response. His hands obeyed your command without a second thought, leaving your hips and quickly moving to the hem of his shirt. In one swift motion, he pulled it off, revealing the tan, smooth skin and hard muscles beneath. He dropped the shirt to the side, raising an eyebrow at you, the smirk still playing on his lips.

Your gaze roamed over his bare chest, your eyes roving over every dip and contour of his body. You leaned forward, your hands sliding over his skin after placing the blade aside, tracing over the ridges and valley of his muscles. You felt him shiver under you, his breathing growing more labored as your fingertips danced across his flesh. "Not bad..."

Rafe's skin pebbled with goosebumps, his entire body tensing as your fingers traced over his chest, drawing out a low, guttural moan from his throat. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his head tilting back into the bed as he relished in the sensation of your touch. He was a strong, powerful man, but in this moment, he felt vulnerable and exposed, completely surrendering himself to your every touch.

"You like what you see..?" He murmured, his voice thick with desire.

"I do.." you cooed softly, leaning in to press small chaste kisses over his jaw, hands sliding down to pop the button of his jeans open, "Can i ride you, Rafe?" you asked lowly, breath ghosting over the shell of his ear.

Rafe groaned, the sound deep and guttural, as your lips left a trail of kisses down his jaw. His breath hitched when your fingers popped the button of his jeans open, the touch igniting a fire in him he didn't know he had. The sound of your voice, low and seductive, sent a shiver down his spine, and he could feel himself growing harder at the thought of you riding him.

He managed to open his eyes, meeting your gaze, his voice thick with lust as he nodded, his words a strangled moan

"God yes.. please.."

You leaned back, climbing off his lap momentarily to slide down your shorts, throwing them on the floor too, leaving you in your black underwear. You straddled him once again as you zipped down his pants, pulling them down his thighs, not bothering to take them off fully. Your movements were hurried and full of arousal, pulling him out of his boxers and hovering just above him. You slid your underwear to the side, hovering just a few moments more before letting yourself sink down on him, a sweet low moan escaping your lips.

Rafe groaned deeply as you straddled him, his head falling back against the bed as his hips bucked involuntarily, searching for that sweet pressure that he knew he'd soon feel. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingers gripping the sheets as hard as he could as he felt your fingers teasing him, hovering just above him, the anticipation driving him crazy.

And then you finally filled yourself with Rafe, and he could no longer form a complete sentence, he let out a strangled moan, his breath coming out in quick little pants. His eyes shot open, meeting your gaze, the lust and desire written all over his face as he leaned up to kiss your neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin there.

"God damn... how the hell are you so good at this.." He muttered against your skin, his hands roaming over your back, searching for something to hold onto, something to ground himself.

"Practice, i guess.." you mumbled, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders for support, throwing your head back as you waited fully to adjust to all the feelings coursing through you, to the size of him.

Rafe chuckled weakly, the sound coming out more like a moan than anything as he felt you adjust to him. His hands held tightly to your hips, his grip firm and desperate. He leaned up as much as he could to press sloppy kisses across your collarbone, his mouth trailing a hot, wet path along your skin.

"I'm gonna.." he groaned, his breath hitching as you shifted slightly above him "I'm gonna need you to move soon"

You chuckled softly, lifting your head back up to look at him, your tongue running across your bottom lip in playful tease."Impatient, are we?"

Your tone was playful as you spoke, though you could feel the growing tension in your own body, your own desire for him building up with every second that passed. Slowly, you began to move, your thighs flexing as you lifted yourself up, the sensations rippling through your body like electricity, leaving you wanting more as you slammed down, eyes fixed down on where you were connected.

Rafe felt like he was in heaven, the sensations you were giving him were heavenly. His head fell back on the pillow, a loud moan leaving his lips as you moved once more, each time bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

"Yes..” he whispered, his voice hoarse and needy as he looked up at you "Please.. I need to.. oh god" Another moan left his lips, as he tried to force himself to speak his mind

You began moving in earnest now, setting a fast and hard pace, relishing in the way Rafe's body responded to you, the way his hands gripped your hips tightly. You could see beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead as he tried to keep himself together, his breathing becoming erratic. Your moans mingled with his as you chased your own pleasure, face twisted in pleasure. "So big.. so good.." you cooed between harsh breaths.

The words you spoke were like music to his ears, sending him over the edge with each one, making him lose himself completely in the pleasure you were giving him. He reached up to bury one hand in your hair, tugging it roughly, his other hand roaming across your side, his fingers leaving marks on your skin as he gripped you tightly, as if he was afraid you were going to vanish.

"You're so.. tight.. so perfect" He groaned out, his mouth open as he tried to gasp for air, his own breathing ragged and harsh. You could see the strain to keep control on Rafe's face, the way his eyebrows furrowed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as if to hold back a sound. You felt it in the way his fingers dug into your hip, the way his breath hitched, and the way his body moved underneath you.

His hand in your hair was gripping it tightly, tilting your head back as he thrust into you, matching your rhythm and guiding your hips with his other hand. Your nails dug in the flesh of his shoulder, your moans catching in your throat as the tip of him kissed your cervix with every movement.

He let out a guttural moan at the feeling of your nails digging into him, his hand in your hair pulling harder, making your head tilt back even more, giving him the perfect angle to kiss your neck. His tongue traced a hot, wet path up to your ear, his breath hot and uneven.

"Ride me.. ride me like you mean it" he commanded you roughly, his voice holding a hint of desperation.

The way his words made you feel, the sound of them deep and gravelly, left you reeling. The tone of his voice, the command behind them, it made you want to submit to him, to give him whatever he wanted, and when you did, he showed you in all the right ways how grateful he was. Your body moved faster and harder above him, as you rode him like he was asking, as you were craving. A series of moans and whimpers and gasps leaving your lips

You looked down at where he was buried inside of you, face twisting in pleasure and ecstasy, relishing in the feeling of his big hand in your hair and the other one guiding your hips sloppily. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath coming out in erratic gasps as you felt your body respond to his words, your hips picking up the pace, riding him like he had asked, as best you could, given his death grip on them. It was as if a switch had been flipped and all you could think about was him, the pleasure he was giving you, the way he felt inside of you.

He watched you with hunger in his eyes, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he felt you move over him, obeying his command. The wet, flithy sounds filling the room were the only thing that could be heard, as well as both of your ragged breaths. His body was trembling, his thighs shaking under you from the effort he was making to keep himself from coming, his moans and the filth escaping him, the obscene words that he spoke in your ear, words he would deny ever saying once he came. But he couldn't help the effect you had on him, the words he couldn't stop himself from saying when you were riding him like the good girl he knew you could be, when he had the perfect hold on your head and hip, when he could guide you in the ways that pleased him the most. He couldn't control it, and he didn't want to, at least for the moment.

You arched into his chest even more, digging your nails into his shoulders almost hard enough to pain him, "Rafe.. 'm close.." you mumbled breathlessly, keeping the pace of your hips fast, your movements growing more frantic and sloppy.

"Come for me, angel." He breathed out, the words dripping with need and lust. His hand in your hair pulled again, tilting your head to the side, his mouth immediately going to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh there, his lips sucking at the sensitive skin, leaving a possessive mark, one you'd have to hide from your friends later.

Your whole world was Rafe Cameron at the moment, how could it not be. He was everywhere, on you, in you, touching you, leaving traces of himself all over you. His hand in your hair, his mouth on your neck, his hands on your hips, you felt like he had his fingerprints all over you. Your breathing was growing more harsh, letting out a sweet moan as the pleasure finally snapped in your lower stomach, your orgasm washing over you and causing your body to shake gently in his arms, thighs clenching almost painfully.

His name left your lips like a mantra, and he kissed you to swallow the sound, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently. He loved the way his name sounded on your lips, and how easily he could get you to say it, but he loved the sounds you made even more. And when you did say his name in that soft, breathy, desperate way it left him reeling. He was addicted to it, and knew he'd never be able to get enough. He kissed you with a fierce, desperate passion, his hands roaming your body, wanting to touch all of you at the same time, his hips lifting to meet yours.

He could feel you trembling in his hold, and he knew you were feeling sensitive and over worked and he loved that. That he was the one to make you feel that way, and that he'd be the only one to ever put you like this. He kissed away the moans he was eliciting from you, the small whimpers, the soft sighs and gasps of pleasure, loving every moment of it.

He held you as you came down slowly from your high, his hands now soothing and gentle, running softly up and down your back. He placed gentle kiss to your neck, your shoulder, your face. Anywhere he could place a kiss, he did. He was completely wrecked, but he wanted to make sure you felt good. He knew the feeling and he knew it could overwhelm you a bit. So he was trying to be as sweet as he could.

"Did you finish..?" you asked, still moving your hips lazily, drawing out the pleasure as long as you could.

He groaned at the feeling of you still moving your hips, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily, his breathing ragged. Your question made him chuckle. "Yeah, yeah I did.. about two minutes ago" he responded. He gently grabbed your hips, encouraging you to still, his own hips still, trying to catch his breath

You looked down at him, eyes roaming over his face. You had just fucked Rafe Cameron. And enjoyed it nonetheless. You felt a bit guilty bout it but you pushed down the feeling, too drunk and satisfied from the sex to care at the moment. You could regret it tomorrow when you were gonna wake up with a hangover and not remember half of what you just did or said. "Good.." you mumbled, resting your forehead on his shoulder, sighing quietly.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his hands tracing random patterns on your back. His heart rate was still elevated, but it was slowly returning to normal, his breathing more even. The afterglow of sex still lingered between you, and, for once, Rafe didn't feel the need to say anything. He simply held you, his head resting on top of yours as his fingers ran gently up and down your spine.

A/N: Sorry for the delay, ive been fighting the most awful cold for the past days. What do y'all think about the first meeting between Rafe and the reader? They're such freaks, I'm actually giggling and kicking my feet every time i have a scene with Rafe. The last part of the chapter is a flashback, in case you couldn't tell..

Tag-list*:･ﾟ✧ @cali-888, @bee-43, @jjscoquette, @melsbels-zip, @stanseventeen @wh0reforbucknasty @wtfisastiles @annaconscience @pqndxra @carrerascameron @nini2mem

[mara-was-naomi]

The moment I graduated college, my parents paid out the nose to ensure I could stay on their coverage (which COBRA gave me the right to do, even if very expensive) for much of the time period COBRA allowed until I found a job that had health insurance coverage. I know a number of people who married whether they were ready to or not, to get on their spouse’s insurance through a job. My late partner and I probably would have done so too if my parents hadn’t been able to help; we had student loans, serious health conditions, and little savings ourselves right out of college.

(The ACA also allows children to stay on their parents’ insurance longer; prior to that the only way you could stay was proof of college enrollment.)

I used to keep a packet of papers in my fire safe box proving I had continuous insurance coverage my whole life every day back to before my health conditions were diagnosed because that was the only way to fight a carrier claiming you had a preexisting condition and denying treatment for that condition or kicking you off their plan entirely. Even if I had gotten a job with health insurance and they wouldn’t kick me off the plan, that insurer could have denied paying for treatment related to my conditions if I had let my previous coverage lapse for a day. I used to be terrified one of us would be hospitalized and not be able to fight the insurer to pay even though we had the papers.

I kind of forgot how scary that was, post-ACA. I still hate my high deductible plan but I don’t worry about catastrophic events just not being covered at ALL.

One thing the analysts back in 2012 were right about is that they’d stop calling it “Obamacare” the second it started working and lo and behold anytime it was actually threatened under Trump it became The ACA and now Leftists who were in Kindergarten when the ACA was passed think Democrats have added nothing to this country.

[howtofightwrite]

Can you explain more about what CAR and CQC are? I'm assuming they're types of fighting styles, but what exactly makes them different, and why would one be used over the other?

CQC and CQB are blanket terms. These are abbreviations for Close Quarters Combat, and Close Quarters Battle. Describing either as a combat style is an awkward application of the term. You'll sometimes see either term used to categorize the intended use case for a weapon. Especially more compact weapons.

For example: Clearing a house, or dealing with tight alleyways, are likely to result in CQC if combat does occur.

Also, the terms evaluate the distance between enemy combatants, so technically CQC can occur in open spaces, it's just more unlikely.

You might encounter someone using CQC as a shorthand for any melee combat. That's technically not quite right, but it's not wrong.

CAR is a handgun stance. Short for Center-Axis Relock, CAR was developed by the late Paul Castle. It is designed for using handguns in CQC. The stance is built around keeping the handgun very close to the body. This has two direct features. First, it's very hard to disarm someone using CAR in hand-to-hand. Simply put, there's not a lot of good access to the pistol. Second, and a related feature, you can use the handgun in far tighter spaces than you could in a more conventional stance like Weaver. Again, this is because the pistol is close to the body. The trade-off is that it's less stable and accurate than Weaver. Ideally, you don't need to worry about those, because of the ranges you should be using CAR at, but, you may find people who try to use CAR longer distances.

John Wick is probably where CAR got the most attention, though it's not the originator of the stance, and the films include a lot of material that's completely unrelated to CAR. Even in the film, Keanu regularly switches between CAR and Weaver stances (though, he's not always switching to Weaver when it would make sense to do so.)

I think it would be fairly obvious, but in case it's not, if you don't have a handgun, there's no way to practice CAR. It's not some martial art where you can use a handgun, it's literally just, “here are a few ways to hold a gun so you can use it effectively in tight spaces.”

CQC is just, “a fight is happening and everyone's really packed in there.” It could be guns, could be knives, could be fists, could be tire irons, but there's not a lot of room between the fighters.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.