♱⠀isa

you should’ve known when rafe brought up the idea of hiking that it wasn’t just gonna be a little walk around the block. —it’s easy—he’d said, jumping like a puppy that always made you fold faster than you cared to admit. —up and then down. simple—

and because he’d been talking about it for weeks now, you’d finally given in the second he got a day off. his excitement was so cute that you couldn’t even bring yourself to complain.

so here you were, two hours in, feet already sore and your thighs screaming in those lululemon shorts you wore because it was too hot for anything else. meanwhile, rafe looked completely unbothered carrying both backpacks on his broad shoulders like they weighed nothing.

you’d passed wooden bridges and little streams that he made you hop across, his hand always reaching back to steady you even though you hadn’t slipped once.

“how far are we even going?” you finally whined, dragging your feet just a little.

he glanced back at you, blue eyes sparkling like this was the most fun he’d ever had.

“just some more miles." he said easily, then smacked your ass in passing. rafe only smirked at your expression.

you huffed, but your lips twitched into a smile anyway.

when you finally stopped at a clearing with a view of the valley, you had to admit it was gorgeous. the sky wide open above you.

“look, baby. worth it, right?" rafe set the bags down and opened his arms like he was showing you a prize. “c’mere.”

you wandered closer, pretending to still be annoyed, but melted the second he wrapped himself around you. he clung tight, warm and sweaty, and you had to tiptoe just to brush your lips along his jaw. he let out a little hum, and it made you giggle.

but the longer you stood there, the less patient you got. this wasn’t your kind of fun. hiking, sweating, bugs. but what did make it bearable though was him.

when he tugged his shirt off, tossing it aside like it was nothing, your eyes immediately locked on his chest. sculpted abs gleaming with sweat, veins on his arms popping, hair sticking damply to his forehead.

“stop staring or i'll blush.” he teased, smirking, but you didn’t bother denying it.

instead, you padded closer, hooking your fingers through the belt of his shorts.

“rafeee” you whined softly, leaning against him. he glanced down at you, panting lightly, lips parted. “hm?” he hummed, like you were tugging at him during playtime, like he’d drop anything just to make you happy.

and god, he looked so good like this. flushed, golden in the sun. you wanted to eat him alive.

“kiss?” he asked, tilting your chin up.

your expression softened instantly, like you couldn’t resist even if you wanted to. he bent down, brushing his mouth over yours gently at first. sweet, teasing. but you were starving, fingers sliding up into his damp hair while your other hand crept lower, slipping into the waistband of his shorts.

“what are you doing?” he jolted, pulling back just slightly.

you only smirked, tiptoeing up to press your lips against his again, more insistent this time. he hesitated, gaze flicking around the clearing to make sure no one was watching, which gave you the perfect chance to kiss along his throat instead. slow, wet kisses trailing down his neck until he let out a shaky laugh, trying and failing to hide how much he liked it.

“baby—” rafe murmured flustered when your hand slipped inside his shorts again. “this… this isn’t the place.”

you ignored him, too far gone in how hot he looked with his hair all messy and shorts low on his waist. you pressed your mouth to his jaw, whispering against his skin.

“then find the place. i’m so horny i can’t keep walking like this.”

he froze for a second, then let out a shaky laugh, the kind that rumbled in his chest.

“and i was the one waiting until we got home.” he muttered, kissing you again, more soft. “c’mon.” he tugged your hand, and you let him lead you higher up the path.

the air was heavy, your legs sore, but adrenaline was buzzing now. you giggled when you lifted the hem of your top as you walked, flashing him quick before dropping it again. his eyes wide like a kid in a candy store.

“baby i'm gonna explode” he groaned, dragging a hand through his hair.

when he finally stopped, it was in between two thick trees, the ground soft with moss but the view still stretching behind him. valleys, sky, all of it. he dropped both backpacks with a thud, chest rising fast.

you padded up to him, biting your lip. “want a blowjob, puppy?”

the way he nodded, immediate and eager, his eyes bright like you’d just offered him his favorite toy, made you dropped to your knees.

hissing when the dirt and tiny rocks bit into your skin, but you didn’t care. tugging his shorts and briefs down, you found him soft, heavy against your palm. rafe looked down at you.

“so cute.” you whispered, kissing the tip of his cock. then the length, then lower, your lips pressing sweet little pecks like you had all the time in the world.

“fuck, babe.” his breath stuttered.

you wrapped your hand around him, stroking lazily until he twitched, filling your palm. when you glanced up, he was already tugging your tank top down, squeezing your tits together like he couldn’t help himself.

“can you—” he swallowed, looking almost shy, “can you use them?”

your lips curved. “yeah, baby.”

you pushed your boobs around his cock, spitting lightly to lube, moving your body so he slid between your cleavage. his head tilted back immediately, a groan tearing out of his throat.

“holy shit.” he panted, holding your tits tighter, watching the way his cock disappeared between them. “mm— you’re so pretty.”

you leaned down, tongue darting out to lick the tip every time it peaked through. the taste of him mixed with spit, your throat humming when you finally wrapped your lips around him too. fucking him with your mouth and tits at the same time.

rafe’s thighs shook, his hands tightening until he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. “baby— i’m—”

you sucked harder, stroking with your hand, letting him go messy. his cum spilled across your chest and mouth with a guttural sound, his abs tensing as he shuddered through it.

you giggled breathlessly, kissing the tip again even as he twitched from overstimulation. climbing up to kiss his lips, your mouth still sticky.

“can you fuck me now?” you whispered. he looked all sweaty smiling like you were everything.

“yeah. yeah, lemme take care of you.” he nodded, voice barely audible.

you shimmied your shorts down, panties too, baring yourself in the open air. rafe groaned like he’d been punched in the chest, sinking to his knees this time.

his lips brushed your inner thigh first, then higher, teasing until his tongue finally licked through you.

you gasped, hand flying to the back of his head, tugging at damp hair. he hummed against you, the vibrations making your knees buckle.

and god, he looked so pretty there. his lashes wet, mouth glistening, eyes half-lidded.

rafe’s tongue worked slow, like he wanted to savor every little reaction. his nose brushed your clit, his mouth dipping lower, dragging sounds out of you that echoed in the trees.

“fuck, rafe—” you whined, fingers tightening in his hair.

he looked up at you from between your thighs, pupils blown.

“you taste so good.” he mumbled, voice rough and shy all at once, like he wasn’t supposed to say it out loud but couldn’t help himself.

you gasped when he licked deeper, sloppy and hungry, and that was when you tugged at him.

“rafe.” you whispered, desperate, “please just fuck me.”

his lips were pink, wet, shining as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. your arms wrapped around his sweaty back, clinging.

he kissed you. the kiss messy, him tasting like yourself on his tongue.

when he pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours, his voice dropped to a whisper.

“i don’t— have a condom.”

his breath shaky, like admitting it was embarrassing. his hand was cupping your hip, squeezing almost nervously.

“don’t care.” you murmured, biting his lip. “i just want you.”

his eyes fluttered shut, a soft little sound escaping his throat. his shorts were already hanging low, his cock heavy and flushed against your stomach now. you reached down between you, wrapping your hand around him, guiding him as you leaned back against one of the trees.

rafe lined himself up clumsily, his hand shaking where it held the base. he looked at you like he needed reassurance one more time.

“fuckkk” he whispered as he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, his jaw dropping open when he felt you. a broken, needy whine slipped from his lips. “oh my god—”

you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, the stretch overwhelming but perfect. when he bottomed out, his hips pressed flush to yours, he just stayed there, trembling. his forehead dropped to your shoulder, teeth biting gently into your skin as he panted.

“so warm… mm— so wet.”

“move.” you begged softly, clenching around him.

he nodded frantically, pulling back only to push in again, messy and needy. no rhythm at first, just the frantic sound of his hips meeting yours, his groans muffled in your neck.

“so pretty— fuck, baby— you feel so good—” he kept muttering praises, almost whining.

he tried to look at you, blue eyes glassy, lips parted. he kissed you between thrusts, sloppy and desperate, like he couldn’t keep his mouth off you even if he tried.

“love you like this.” he babbled, “love you so much— can’t believe you’re letting me— raw, baby, fuck—”

his words made you clench harder, and he nearly collapsed against you, moaning into your mouth.

“love you too, puppy."

he picked up a rhythm then, hips snapping deeper, dragging you higher with every thrust.

you clawed at his back, your voice breaking.

“rafe— rafe, i’m gonna—”

“me too, baby, me too.” he whimpered, kissing you hard, his pace stuttering.

you came first, crying out into the trees, your whole body trembling as he held you tight, fucking you through it. the pulsing drag of your cunt around him sent him spiraling, his voice breaking into high-pitched whines as he spilled inside you. his hips rutting shallowly until he had filled you completely with his cum.

he collapsed into you, sweaty chest pressed to yours, still twitching inside, still kissing you soft and messy.

“god damn.” he breathed, almost laughing, almost crying, “i didn’t mean to— god— i love you.”

you stayed tangled against the tree for a long moment, both of you catching your breath. rafe was still inside you, chest heaving, face buried in your neck. he was warm everywhere. his arms wrapped tight around you like he was scared to let go.

finally, he pulled back just enough to look at you.

he slipped out, both of you hissing softly at the mess in between your thighs. and he immediately tugged your shorts back up for you, like he wanted to take care of everything.

he even crouched, pulling his shirt from the ground and wiping gently between your thighs with it.

“sorry, it’s dirty but— just wanna, y’know— make sure you’re okay.” he mumbled softly. you giggled, your heart swelling.

rafe tugged his own shorts back on, still flushed, still breathing heavy. then, without another word, he crouched low in front of you.

“what are you doing?” you asked, amused.

“get on.” he said simply, glancing back with that little grin, “your feet hurt. i’ll carry you.”

you snorted. “rafe, it’s miles back—”

“don’t care.” he cut in, wiggling his shoulders until you finally gave in and climbed onto his back. his arms hooked under your thighs easily, lifting you like you weighed nothing.

and so he started down the trail with you clinging to him. your cheek pressed against his damp shoulder, your arms looped around his neck, and every so often he’d turn his head just to kiss your temple.

“worth the hike now?” he teased, voice playful but a little sleepy-sounding too.

you hummed, nuzzling him. “worth it.”

you’re standing in the kitchen. focused to not burn dinner while humming to yourself, stirring something in the pan that smells really good.

and then there’s rafe. leaning against the counter, barefoot, shirtless because he never sees a point in wearing clothes around you unless he has to. hair flopping into his eyes, arms crossed like he’s pretending to be patient even though he’s absolutely not.

“so then kelce says— babe, listen— he says i should’ve taken the shot, right? like it was wide open. but like, i was defending, you know? like how am i supposed to—” he’s rambling, gesturing with his hands, going off about some stupid game that you don't care about.

normally you’d just hum a distracted “mhmm” and zoom out while he yaps. but today, for no reason at all, you glance over your shoulder. and it just hits you. hard.

he’s so stupidly pretty. his pretty face, his strong arms, and the way he’s looking at you with those beautiful eyes, all animated and soft at the same time, eyes crinkling because he’s laughing at his own story. and he’s yours. like, holy shit.

you don’t even think about it, you just put the spoon down, wipe your hands on a towel, and cross the kitchen. rafe stops mid-sentence, blinking at you as you grab his face with both hands.

“uh— what’s—” he barely gets out before you kiss him all desperate.

he makes this surprised sound in his throat before instantly sliding his huge hands to your waist, tugging you closer like he’s been waiting for this all day.

when you finally pull back, his eyes are wide, pupils blown, cheeks a little pink.

“what was that for?” he asks, voice all husky, breath uneven. you grin, brushing your thumb across his jaw.

“just… you’re like, stupid hot. and you’re mine. it’s actually insane.”

and rafe… short circuits. like you can see it happen. his mouth opens, closes, he looks away for a second like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. because he’s used to being the one glued to you, the one begging for attention, hanging off you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive. he’s not used to you flipping it on him.

“baby…” he breathes out, pulling you flush against him, burying his face in your neck. his voice comes out muffled, almost shaky, “you can’t just— say shit like that, i’ll lose my fuckin’ mind.”

you laugh, threading your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “good. i want you like that.”

he groans dramatically, tightening his hold until you’re practically caged against the counter, like he can fuse you to him if he squeezes hard enough. “you’re gonna kill me, swear to god. i can’t— like, you’re— fuck, i love you.”

“i know.” you tease, kissing his temple. “love you too, puppy.”

and he actually whines at the nickname, hips shifting against yours because yeah, he’s completely clingy and desperate.

“you’re… mine." he pants low, like he’s trying to growl but it just comes out a little breathless.

his hand squeezes your hip, sliding down to your thigh like he’s seen it in a movie, and you can feel how hard he’s getting pressed against you.

you bite back a smile because god, he’s trying so hard to be the big bad dom right now.

normally he’s clingy, whiny, begging for kisses and scratches, but the second you gave him that burst of affection he’s like, suddenly decided —no actually i’m in charge here.—

“oh yeah?” you tease, tilting your head, lips brushing his jaw. “all mine, rafe?”

he jerks his head back to look at you, eyes dark and determined.

“no— fuck— you’re mine. got it? you— belong— to me.” he says it punctuating each word with a squeeze of your waist, and it’s honestly adorable.

“you practicing, baby?” you grin, tugging his hair just enough to make him gasp. his face flushes immediately.

“shut up.” he mutters, but his hips rut against yours like he can’t help himself. “i’m serious. i’m— fuck— i’m the one who… who makes you feel good. nobody else.”

you almost laugh because his dominant voice is just his regular voice but raspier. and the way he looks at you. eyes blown wide, lips pink from kissing, chest rising and falling fast. it’s not scary or commanding at all.

“mhm...” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck, dragging your nails lightly down his back.

you tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging his head back just enough to kiss him slow, making him whimper.

“you’re doing so good, baby." you coo, and his entire body shivers. “such a good boy, trying so hard for me.”

he groans against your mouth, hips grinding against your core like he can’t stop himself.

“fuck, don’t say that.” he whines, even though you know he loves it. “you’re gonna make me lose it.”

“that’s the point.” you whisper, and then your nose twitches. “shit. the food.”

you wriggle out of his grip, walking to the stove, and twist the knobs off before anything burns.

rafe’s still leaning against the counter, hair messy. only now he’s glaring, arms crossed, jaw tight, pouty in the most dramatic way.

“you seriously just left me for… spaghetti?”

you glance at him over your shoulder, snorting. “luckily it didn’t burn. you’ll thank me later.”

he doesn’t. he's mad now. usually, he’d be yapping while the bite is still inside his mouth. but tonight? silence. just rafe, stabbing at his plate like the pasta personally offended him.

you giggle into your fork. “what’s with the face?”

“nothing.”

“rafe.”

“i said nothing.”

and god, he looks so stubborn, trying not to admit that yes, this food is delicious, but also yes, he’s still annoyed you ruined his big moment.

you let it go, finishing dinner in amused silence. he doesn’t.

later, you’re bent over by the dishwasher, sliding plates in, humming to yourself. your shorts ride up just a little, and you don’t think anything of it. until you feel him.

big hands on your hips, way rougher than usual. his chest pressing into your back, breath hot against your ear.

“rafe—” you start, but he cuts you off, growling.

“you think you can just tease me like that?”

you blink, heat rushing through you because holy shit. his tone is not the usual whiny sound.

“aww, poor baby." you tease, just to see him crack. “couldn’t handle waiting?”

that’s when he grabs your wrists, pins them to the counter in front of you. his body cages you in, his mouth brushing your ear.

“i’m not playing, baby. you’re gonna pay for leaving me like that.”

your breath catches, thighs clenching.

“pay how?” you whisper, smirking, but your voice wavers just a little.

“by taking all of my cock. however i give it to you.” he grinds into you, letting you feel exactly how hard he is. you laugh breathlessly, tilting your head to look back at him.

“dirty talk rafe? i’m impressed.”

he glares, lips brushing your jaw. “shut up.” he mutters, but then his hand slides under your shirt, rough and possessive, fingers digging into your skin. “i mean it. you’re mine. i don’t care if the whole neighborhood hears you scream my name.”

“baby—” you start, teasing. “you’re so serious right now.” his grip tightens.

“i said shut up.” he kisses you harsh, teeth dragging your lip, and then his hand slides from your wrist to your throat.

the squeeze isn’t perfect, not measured, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch and your thighs squeeze together.

“you like that?” he mutters when he feels you shiver, like he can’t believe how much that worked. “yeah? knew you’d like that.”

“baby, you're trying so hard.” you grin against his mouth. that makes him groan annoyed before he spins you around and bends you over the counter. his palm comes hard down on your ass, and you moan.

“gonna fuck you so hard you won’t even remember your own name. only mine.” he growls, hot against your ear. you laugh breathlessly, pushing your ass back into him, biting your lip over your shoulder.

“so bossy, puppy.”

and that’s it. his hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back until your throat arches for him, and his other hand under your shirt, groping rough at your tits.

“say that again,” his grip on your hair keeps you from falling. “see what happens.” you hum, taunting.

“pup—” but you don’t get the word out because suddenly his hand is back on your throat, pulling you upright against his chest.

“what was that?” he asks. but his breathing is erratic like he’s barely holding himself together.

“nothing, daddy.” you tease, eyes fluttering from the pressure. still cringing from that nickname, he let's out a low laugh. you feel his cock twitch against your ass.

“fuck.” he groans, squeezing your throat tighter for a second before letting go, shoving you forward again against the counter. “don’t call me that.”

“m'sorry big guy.” you laugh into the counter.

your shorts and panties are shoved down before you can even gasp. rafe’s hands are shaking a little with how desperate he is, but he still manages to smack your ass again, the sound echoing in the kitchen.

“fuck, look at you.” he mutters, almost to himself, staring at the way you’re bent over for him. “so fucking pretty… and all mine.”

he struggles with his own sweats, cursing under his breath when the drawstring knots, growling in frustration. you giggle, cheek pressed to the counter.

“need help, baby?”

he smacks your ass again, harder this time, the sting making you gasp.

“shut up. i got it.” he finally gets free, cock slapping heavy against your ass.

then he’s pushing in, no warning, just a rough, needy thrust that makes both of you cry out. he fills you so fast you have to grip the edge of the counter, nails scratching the wood.

“jesus christ.” he hisses, holding your hips tight.

“i love how good you feel.” you whimper, pushing back into him, teasing breathless.

his hips slam forward so hard the dishes rattle again. “of course you do. you belong to me. nobody else gets this.”

his hand finds your throat again, pulling you upright so your back is to his chest.

“say it." he growls into your ear. “say you’re mine.”

“i’m— fuck— i’m yours, rafe.”

“louder.” his grip tightens just enough to make your voice strain. “say it like you mean it.”

“mm— i'm yours!” you cry out, and he groans, biting at your shoulder.

“good fucking girl.”

he pulls out almost all the way, then slams back in, over and over, pace brutal. his hand slides from your throat to your tits, groping rough, pinching your nipple through your shirt.

“look at you, baby… trying so hard to be mean.” you manage to laugh through the moans, just to keep poking at him.

he bends you forward again, pressing your chest flat to the counter. one big hand pins your wrists down while the other lands another sharp slap to your ass.

“does that feel like i’m soft?” he spits, fucking you harder, sweat dripping from his temple onto your back. “does that feel like i don’t know what i’m doing?”

“mmm...” you hum, smirking even as your voice breaks from his thrusts. “maybe.”

he loses it. hand back on your throat, yanking you up, his hips never slowing.

“say that shit again i’ll fuck you until you can’t even walk tomorrow.”

“please.” you moan, clenching around him so hard he curses.

and the way his head drops back, the broken sound he makes. yeah, the dominance is real, but he’s still your rafe. still the boy who’s so drunk on you he can barely hold the act together.

“gonna fill you up.” he groans, rutting into you faster, hips snapping sharp. “gonna make sure you can’t think about anything but me. mine, mine, mine—”

your legs shake, orgasm tearing through you so hard you nearly collapse, only his hand on your throat holding you up. you cry his name, choking on the sound, and he follows right after, pulling you tight against him as he spills inside you with a strangled moan.

for a long moment, it’s just the sound of both of you panting, clinging to each other in the sticky kitchen.

finally, he kisses your shoulder, softer now, whining a little as he nuzzles against your neck.

“you really ruined my moment earlier.”

“yeah, but i gave you a better one, didn’t i?” you laugh weakly, still catching your breath.

he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, all clingy. “don’t tease me. i’m supposed to be the scary one.”

“you’re terrifying, baby. really.” you grin, reaching back to stroke his sweaty hair.

you’re already clinging to jj’s arm like your life depends on it, nearly jumping out of your skin every time a stupid fake spider drops from the ceiling.

“why the hell are they always dropping stuff? i swear to god, if that thing touches my hair again—”

“shut up, i’m trying to read this!” kiara snaps from across the room, like she’s about to summon a demon instead of unlock a fake ass door.

“uhhh… ‘behind the mirror lies your key, but truth and lies you must not see’?” she squints. “what does that even mean?”

“it means we're too dumb to understand.” john b mutters.

“i think it means we need to look behind the mirror.” pope says, just before a loud bang sounds from the other room.

he screams. like, a full chesty yelp. you start laughing so hard your knees buckle.

“pope, oh my god" you wheeze, leaning on jj for support. “that was literally just a door.”

“no, no— someone’s coming. i saw a shadow.”

you all freeze. and then, like it’s a damn horror movie, the lights flicker red and a heavy thud-thud-thud starts echoing down the hallway.

a masked figure turns the corner, face all shadows and fake blood. and then he starts literally sprinting.

“shitshitshitshit!” jj grabs your hand. “run!”

screaming chaos. sarah’s laughing and tripping over herself. and you’re sprinting behind jj, twisting through narrow corridors and pitch-black turns.

you duck behind a corner with jj, gasping for breath while he’s grinning like a maniac.

“that was so hot.” he says between breaths. “do you think they hire real psychos for this?”

“i would fuck the masked one. like... that guy looked hot.” you giggle, cheeks hot. jj stares at you. then bursts out laughing.

“you’re so weird.”

but before you can keep giggling, another clang of chains hits the wall. you both freeze.

“go go go!” pope shouts from down the hall. “i found the next clue!”

jj grabs your wrist again and you’re running, laughing like lunatics, dodging through doors until you tumble into another room with peeling wallpaper and fake blood smeared on the walls.

you’re catching your breath, heart pounding, not even realizing jj’s grip is gone. but you still feel a presence behind you.

when something bangs loudly outside the room, you squeal and turn around, instinctively grabbing onto the person behind you. your arms around their torso, burying your face in their chest.

they chuckle soft and low. a little too amused.

you blink. wait. jj’s not that tall.

you tilt your head up slowly… and see the mask. but much closer and clearer.

the guy doesn’t say anything. just pats your head, tilting it. you step back, heart stalling in your chest.

“you’re… not jj.”

his head tilts again. and then he reaches up—slow—and pulls the mask off. and you almost scream again.

it’s rafe. standing in front of you in a black outfit, fake blood on his neck, hair sweaty from running.

he twirls the mask in his hand. “hey, baby.” his eyes glint amused.

“…w-what are you doing here?” you whisper, like you're scared he might bite if you're too loud. he shrugs lazily.

“get bored sometimes. like scaring people.”

“but… are you even allowed to take the mask off?”

his mouth quirks up into a little grin. it’s almost cruel.

“nah. i'm not supposed to.” he looks around the room, slow and casual. “but this is the only one with no cameras. no one’ll know unless you tell.”

you blink at him, all dumb and confused, like the pieces just won’t click into place.

“so like… you work here?”

“not really.” he leans against the wall, arms crossed. “i know the guy who runs it. he lets me play.”

“so… are you gonna chase me again or something?” you fidget, backing up a step. “'cause like, i can’t really take it seriously now that i know it’s you.”

he laughs under his breath, his eyes drag up and down your body slow. shameless like he’s already undressing you in his head.

"nah." he says, and it sounds lazy, but his eyes are hungry. "not gonna chase you." he tilts his head. “but i gotta ask…”

you blink. he steps closer.

“…that shit you said to jj.”

your stomach flips. “w-what—what shit?”

his smile widens. he knows you know.
“about fucking the masked guy.”

your cheeks burn. “i—I was just joking—”

“really?” he cuts you off, taking another step. “said he looked hot. said you’d let him fuck you.” you stumble back. he follows.

“i didn’t—i mean i was joking, i just—” you hit the wall. his hand goes flat next to your head.

“was it true?” he asks, eyes flicking down to your lips. you swallow hard, voice barely a whisper. “...maybe.”

his hand comes up to your jaw. tilts your head up like you’re a toy. his thumb drags over your bottom lip.

“so what now, baby?” he murmurs. “you wanna play out your little fantasy?”

“what about the others?” you whisper, blinking up at him, lips parted. “they’re gonna find me.”

rafe huffs out a soft laugh. “no, they won’t.”

his free hand dips into his pocket. he pulls out a keycard.

“i gifted them thirty more minutes.” he grins. “locked ‘em into the decoy puzzle room. they won’t even notice you're gone.”

your mouth drops open. “you—wait—what? you can do that?”

“i told you. i get bored.” he shrugs. “and you looked too pretty clinging to jj like that."

you blink up at him, dumb and hot and dizzy.

“…if you keep the mask on…” you trail off. your cheeks go hot. “…i’ll let you.”

that smile he gives you is feral. not sweet, not kind.

he lifts the mask back up—slides it on slow. the second it’s back over his face, something changes.

his voice drops.

“strip.”

you swallow hard. “nuh uh—”

he steps in closer, hand wrapping around your throat.

“dumb pretty girls don’t need to think. just do what you're told.”

your fingers fumble with the hem of your shirt. you nearly trip pulling it over your head, breath catching when the cold air hits your skin.

“so eager.” he hums. “you’re not even pretending to be scared anymore.”

“well—i mean, you’re hot—” you giggle, nervous and horny and stupid.

he cuts you off by turning you around, pressing your chest to the wall. his big hands drag down your sides, possessive.

“you know how long i’ve been watching you?”

you gasp. “w-watching—like how—”

“when you hang out with sarah at my house. when you talk like a dumb slut and don’t even realize it.”
his hand cups between your thighs.

you whimper. “i didn’t mean to—”

he laughs again. “you did. i like that about you.”

his fingers tug your shorts down. your panties go with them. he drags them off like he’s unwrapping a present he’s waited months for.

his gloved hand smooths over your bare ass.

“this all for me, baby?”

you nod frantically, brain already melting.

“good girl.” he mutters.

he’s already got his zipper down. you hear it, loud and obscene in the quiet room. when he presses in bare, you gasp, your legs already trembling.

“rafe—”

“shhh." he says, voice all muffled through the mask. “just take it. pretend i’m still the scary masked guy if it helps your dumb little brain.”

you nod, moaning when he slides in deeper.

“fuck—you’re tight.” he groans. “knew this pussy would be dumb too.”

your nails scratch at the wall, gasping and whining as he fucks into you slow but deep.

“jj ever fuck you like this?” he pants. you shake your head fast.

“no” you cry out. “never— he's never fucked me—” rafe freezes. cock buried deep. his mask brushes your neck as he leans in.

“…what?”

“i mean— jj just jokes with me. he never actually tried.” you blink up at him through wet lashes, all dazed. he pulls out almost all the way and slams back in, and you scream.

“you mean to tell me” he bites out. “this pussy’s mine first?”

you nod frantically. “mhm—yes—yours—”

the sound of your bodies slapping together is disgusting and filthy. echoing off the fake blood–smeared walls while your friends are just two rooms over, completely clueless.

“fuck.” he growls, voice muffled behind the mask. “you take me so good.”

you whimper, head tipped back against his shoulder, tears welling from the stretch. your legs are shaking. brain not working. thoughts barely connecting.

he fucks into you harder, rougher. one hand gripping your jaw, keeping your mouth open like he wants to hear every stupid moan you make.

his thrusts start to stutter. he’s close. and you? you’re already trembling. slick leaking down your thighs.

“gonna come inside you, yeah?” he mutters darkly. “gonna fill this pussy up so good, you’ll feel me dripping out when you’re walking back to them.”

your eyes roll back.

“want it,” you whine. “want your cum—please—rafe—”

he slams in once. twice. and then he's growling through his teeth as he empties inside you, hips jerking with every pump.

your brain shuts off. mouth open. legs shaking.

but he doesn’t stop.

“r-rafe?” you whimper.

“shhh, baby.” his hand wraps around your throat again, pulling your back against him. his cock is still hard inside you. “we’re not done yet.”

your body flinches as he shifts, the oversensitive heat between your legs screaming for a break, but your mouth only whines something stupid like:

“c-can’t—don’t—feels—uhhh—”

“yes you can." rafe says firm. and somehow he’s still got the mask on. he’s whispering shit right up against your ear.

you nod weakly, tears spilling from your eyes now. and then his fingers toy with your overstimmed clit, rubbing tight circles while his cock stays buried deep.

he doesn’t care that you’re already sobbing, trembling, begging.

you come so hard you go boneless, falling into him, and rafe catches you immediately, arm wrapping tight around your waist.

“good fucking girl." he whispers. “that’s it. so pretty.”

you’re barely able to breathe. and that’s when he finally pulls out slow and gentle. and you whimper at the feeling of him leaking out of you, thick and warm between your thighs.

“shhh.” he murmurs, crouching down in front of you now, his gloved fingers cupping your face. he pauses, then lifts a hand to his mask. he slides it off.

you blink through the haze, lips parted, staring up at him like he’s not real.

“…rafe.” you whisper.

his hair’s damp with sweat. his cheeks are flushed. but his expression? soft.

“there you are.” he says. you blink again.

“…i thought you were gonna keep it on.”

“wanted to see your face.” he mutters, brushing your hair back. he glances down at your trembling thighs, his cum smeared between them.
“and make sure my dumb little girl’s still breathing.”

you nod. or try to. he pulls off his gloves, one by one, and then gathers you into his lap, sitting right there on the cold fake escape room floor.

“you okay?” he asks, thumb dragging over your lip.

“…i think so." you say softly, curling into his chest.

“you didn’t think at all tonight, baby." he teases. “just let me do the thinking for you, huh?”

“mhm.” you murmur.
“that was nice.” he chuckles. kisses the top of your head.
outside, you’re walking a little funny. your thighs are definitely doing that awkward shaky thing every few steps.

and no one notices. not really. the group’s too busy laughing like a bunch of idiots.

“yo, that was actually kinda sick,” jj pants, arm slung around your shoulder. “still mad pope screamed at that shadow though.”

“it looked like a guy!” pope shoots him a look.

“that’s the point, dumbass.” kie snorts.

you giggle, staying tucked under jj’s arm, hiding your face a little. the scent of rafe’s sweat and cologne is still on your skin. you feel dirty. and you like it.

you’re about to say something when your phone lights up in your hoodie pocket. you blink, pulling it out.

new image from rafe

you swipe it open quickly, just to get it over with. your heart stops.

it’s a selfie from earlier. you, slumped against the wall, face dazed and flushed, lips swollen, crying a little. his gloved hand wrapped around your throat. his mask still on. his cock buried in you.

you’re perched on jj’s bed, in one of his ratty tees that smells like him, bare legs folded, one knee up, thumbs moving lazily across his phone. you’d been sure you’d catch him slipping. maybe a flirty snap, maybe a text.

it's not that you don’t trust him, but jj maybank just seems like that type of frat boy with a wandering dick. but no. he’s an idiot, yeah, but a loyal idiot. no secret dms, no sketchy apps, just a ridiculous amount of memes he saves to send to you later.

you’re chewing your lip, debating it, when the door creaks.

“hey, pretty.” rafe’s voice. lazy and smooth, like he’s already amused. you don’t even glance up. just hum out a distracted.

“hi, rafey.”

you don’t notice how his eyes immediately drop to your thighs, to the way jj’s shirt barely covers you, or the glimpse of your black lace panties when your leg shifts.

rafe lingers in the doorway for a second, he hums, casual. then, he pushes inside, shutting the door behind him before flopping onto the mattress beside you. he always does this, too touchy, sitting too close, acting like jj’s girl is half his too.

“what are we snooping for today, baby?” he teases, leaning close enough that his shoulder brushes yours. “you findin’ proof he’s cheating or proof he’s dumber than we already knew?”

you wrinkle your nose and shush him, totally unbothered by how near he is.

“shut up. just don’t tell him. seriously.”

“you know i don't snitch." he chuckles low, hand reaching out to toy lazily with the hem of jj’s shirt, tugging at the fabric so it stretches. his knuckles almost graze your chest, and you squirm, still not clocking how intentional it is.

“thought you two were done fucking.” rafe murmurs, eyes flicking to the bathroom door. “figured i’d come back after you wore him out.”

that makes you pout, finally looking at him, shaking your head. “he’s still showering. took forever.”

rafe’s grin spreads slow. “hm. poor girl.”

you huff, shove jj’s phone back onto the nightstand, and flop dramatically against the pillows just as the bathroom door swings open. jj approaches with wet hair, towel slung low around his hips.

he spots rafe instantly and groans. “jesus christ, bro. can’t you, like, not?”

“don’t cream your pants, maybank." rafe teases, smirking like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“please. you wish.” jj snorts.

“you took so long, j.” you whine softly, crawling toward jj on your knees, all needy.

jj’s smirk softens at you, and in one swift move, he’s crowding you, big palm gripping your jaw as he kisses you all messy and wet, like he missed you even though it was 20 minutes.

“oh my god. you two are disgusting.” rafe mutters.

jj breaks the kiss just long enough to throw him a look over his shoulder. “door’s right there, asshole.”

“nah.” rafe laughs, rolling to his own bed across the room. “not sleeping in another sorority chick’s bed tonight. those girls are fucking feral.”

you giggle, nodding like you know exactly what he means. “we really are.”

jj pinches your waist, whining, “baby. don’t agree with him. he’s cockblocking us.” he pulls you closer, shamelessly groping you over his shirt. “now we can’t fuck because of stupid rafe.”

you whine at jj, voice pitched soft and needy, and he just sighs like he’s used to your dramatics.

“i’m turning the lights off, man.” he tosses the words across the room toward rafe.

“yeah, don’t be thinking of me while your girl’s jerking you off.”

jj groans, rolling his eyes, “bro, i always think of you.”

“ew." you kick jj lightly in protest. “we’re just cuddling.”

"sure, baby." rafe mutters, watching from his bed.

jj drags himself up to click off the light switch. the room falls dark except for the glow of rafe’s phone. when jj crawls back, he immediately flops against you, head pillowed on your boobs.

for a few seconds it’s quiet, the only sound of whatever tiktok rafe’s scrolling through. then jj shifts, lips pressing against the thin fabric of his old shirt stretched over your chest. his tongue flicks over one nipple through the fabric and you stiffen, hands automatically threading through his damp hair, trying not to make a sound.

the bed creaks when you squirm, rubbing yourself against jj’s thigh without even meaning to, your body chasing friction. he lets you, doesn’t even tease you for it, just hums against your skin and presses a kiss to your neck.

then his palm slides up, covers your mouth. jj breathes, eyes cutting to the side because the noise of rafe’s tiktoks has paused.

“oh my fucking god.” rafe groans.

you shut your eyes, face burning. “m' s-sorry.” you mumble into jj’s shoulder. jj just groans, hand smoothing down your back, totally unfazed.

“she’s just needy, man. needs to get off somehow.” "shut up, j." his tone is so casual it makes you want to die.

rafe sighs. he’s pissed now, you can hear it in the scrape of his voice. his footsteps heavy as he stands, footsteps heavy.

he stops at the side of jj’s bed. his eyes drag over the scene of you curled up against jj, panties riding up, rubbing against jj’s leg like you’re helpless.

“fucking hell.” rafe curses under his breath, and then his hand presses down right where you’re grinding. just to check.

you jerk, squirming, heat flooding your face. jj doesn’t even lift his head.

“what the fuck are you doing, cameron?”

rafe rolls his eyes like you can’t be serious.

“you two are making me hard, what the fuck do you expect?” then his palm cracks lightly against your ass. you gasp, snapping your head up,

“that was so rude.”

jj sighs, long and lazy, like he’s too tired to care. “yeah, yeah.” his voice almost bored, lifting a hand to gesture vaguely.

that’s all rafe needs. he flops onto the mattress beside jj, body warm and close. jj’s now sandwiched in the middle, your face tucked into his chest, rafe stretched out at his other side.

the room is dark again, rafe’s breathing steady right beside you. you just cling tighter to jj. jj sighs against your hair.

“baby, it’s fine. rafe’s not gonna be a dumbass now, right?”

“yeah, relax. i’m chillin’.” rafe’s voice comes low.

but you shake your head anyway, fingers gripping jj’s shirt. jj cups your face, and gives your cheek a light slap.

“hey. look at me.” the smack echoes in the quiet, and rafe laughs instantly in the glow from his phone.

jj shifts, tugging down his pajama shorts just enough that you feel him hard against your thigh.

“jj.” you whisper, voice trembling, “the condoms—”

he curses under his breath, annoyed, and reluctantly slides out from under you. “hold on."

you hear him rustling around the drawers. and then there’s rafe hand on your stomach. he rubs slow circles just above your waistband.

“stop." you whimper, covering your face with your hands.

“my bad.” rafe says, cocky grin obvious in his voice.

“i can’t find them.” jj slams the drawer shut, frustrated, then stomps back to the bed. without warning, he lifts you up, your thighs straddling his waist.

“wait–” you start, but he’s already shushing you, kissing your temple.

“i’ll be careful, baby.” he says, voice low and steady.

you glare over his shoulder at rafe. because rafe’s right there, propped on one elbow, watching the whole thing unfold with that smug little smirk.

“ignore him. eyes on me.” jj hands grinding you down against him until your head spins.

“you’re killing me over here.” rafe mutters, half a laugh.

“deal with it.” jj throws back, but he doesn’t push him away. he never does.

you shift on jj’s lap, feel him pressing right where you need him most, and your body betrays you with another needy whine.

“that’s it, baby” jj coaxes, kissing your jaw. “don’t be shy.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, fingers curling in his damp hair, but rafe’s voice comes again, low and rough, “fuck, she sounds pretty, maybank.”

your stomach flips, heat flooding through you, and you bury your face back into jj’s neck — too embarrassed to look up at either of them.

jj’s lips are on yours. until rafe shifts closer, the mattress dipping right beside you, and it makes you break the kiss.

“see? she gets all shy.” rafe teases. “like i don’t already hear her every other night.”

“rafe, shut up. go away.” you groan annoyed. jj smirks, kisses your forehead.

“what, you don’t like him talking about you?”

“no. he's annoying me.” you whimper, but your hips roll against him anyway, betraying you. rafe notices, of course.

“you’re so fuckin’ cute when you’re mad.”

“jesus, cameron. can you not flirt with my girlfriend?” jj's head tipping back against the wall.

“what, you jealous?” rafe throws jj’s own words back at him, grinning.

“yeah.” jj shoots back instantly, kissing you hard enough that you moan. you gasp into jj’s mouth, smacking his shoulder.

“jj! say something! he’s right there—” you whisper into his mouth, frantic. but he just chuckles, eyes glinting.

“what do you want me to say, baby?”

you’re too flustered to answer, hiding in jj’s neck again. jj pets your hair, soothing, even as he teases. rafe’s thumb is stroking lazy circles into your thigh.

“he’s always there. he’s my roommate. my brother. you think he doesn’t already know how you sound when i’m in you?” jj smirks up at you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth.

“she really thought she was bein’ quiet, huh?” rafe laughs, low and mean.

“god, you’re both assholes,” you huff, but your hips are still grinding down on jj’s cock through his shorts like you can’t help it.

“needy little thing.”

you pout, whining. “don’t call me that.”

“what? needy?” jj teases, slipping a hand under the shirt you stole from him, brushing his knuckles under your breast. “little?”

“not an insult if you’re pretty.” rafe’s fingers slide under your panties properly now, knuckles brushing your folds, and you gasp against jj’s mouth.

“you feel that, baby? he’s touching you.” jj's forehead pressing to yours. you nod helplessly, clinging tighter to him.

“she’s soaked.” rafe mutters, smug. “such a pretty pussy.”

“jj, he’s being gross.” you start, but then jj’s hands are sliding down your ass, lifting you slightly, and rafe is tugging your panties aside like it’s already decided.

“baby, he’s serious.” jj laughs, soft against your ear.

“oh my god.” you whisper, eyes wide.

“just let him. you’ll like it.” jj murmurs, and then rafe’s mouth is eating you out right on jj's lap, his mouth hot and wet. you cry out.

you whine, though your hips buck against rafe’s tongue like you can’t control it. jj covers your mouth with his hand, grinning down at you.

“god, she’s loud. bet the guys downstairs already know she’s getting stuffed.” rafe pulls back just enough to laugh, his lips shiny. you gasp, ripping jj’s hand off your mouth.

“i'm not that loud...” jj laughs, dropping his forehead against yours. you shake your head furiously, but then jj shifts his hips.

“fuck. she’s squeezing me through my shorts.”

“take ’em off then.” rafe says, leaning back like he’s got all the time in the world.

jj pushes his shorts all the way down, his cock heavy against your belly. he slides you down his shaft just enough to make your pussy clench. rafe leans in, so close his breath hits your cheek before jj lines himself up and presses inside you.

“holy shitttt, he’s inside, everyone.” rafe teases. you nod, frantic, even as you whimper. rafe actually groans like he felt it too, stroking over your back, you flinch.

“shh." rafe soothes, rubbing gentle. “not taking his cock from you. just… touchin’ you.”

“she doesn’t mind. do you, baby?” jj hums, kissing your temple.

“i—i don’t know,” rafe leans in closer, his hand sliding to your ass, squeezing. jj groans, thrusting up harder, making you gasp.

before you can protest again, rafe’s fingers are tugging at your panties, guiding himself closer until the head of his cock brushes your ass.

“rafe! no way— ” your whole body jerks. “jj.” you plead, wide-eyed. his hand slaps your cheek playfully.

and then rafe’s pushing in behind you, slow, careful. stretching you in a way that makes your vision blur.

“oh my god.” you cry, nails raking down jj’s chest.

“fuckkk.” rafe groans, biting your shoulder. his hips pressing flush. “tightest thing i’ve ever felt.”

you’re sobbing, overwhelmed, but neither of them let up. it’s too much. both of them stuffed inside you. jj's under you, whispering how good you are, rafe pressed against your back, rough and greedy.

“bro, tell me this isn’t the best thing we’ve ever done together.” jj pants against your lips.

“top two, easy.” rafe laughs, thrusting shallowly.

“top two?” jj laughs as he fucks into you.

“yeah.” rafe groans, smacking your ass. “pong finals still number one.”

you moan helplessly, sandwiched between them, and jj kisses you messy, breathless. “nah, dude. this beats pong.”

“jj.” you whimper, tears pricking your eyes, “you’re not— you’re not using a condom.”

“told you i couldn't find em', baby." jj laughs, breath hot against your ear.

“that’s— that’s not good.” your words get swallowed up in a broken moan as rafe slams his hips into you, rough. jj shoots him a glare over your shoulder.

"bro. chill. she’s not your fucking toy.”

“she feels too good.” rafe grits out, biting down on your shoulder. “my bad.”

“hurts, rafe." you whisper, helpless. cock drunk.

“fuck. sorry, princess. i’ll ease up.” behind you, rafe groans, slowing just a little.

“you’re such a dick.” jj laughs again, snapping his hips forward again, making you squeal.

“rafe!” you pout, smacking his arm weakly. “too rough.”

jj pulls back, smirking at him. “see? told you.” he kisses your nose, murmuring against your skin. “you like it softer, huh, baby?”

“y-yeah." you breathe, clinging tighter to him. jj hums, smug, stroking your hair. rafe groans like he’s about to combust.

“fuck, man. she says that shit to you all the time?”

“every time.” jj smirks, thrusting up deep enough to make you cry out. “lucky, right?”

rafe laughs breathlessly, forehead pressed to your back. “luckiest asshole i know.”

you’re trembling now, every nerve on fire, your body caught between them. “jj, i can’t— it’s too much—”

“you can, baby.” jj coaxes, kissing your jaw. “you’re doing so good. just let go for me.”

“yeah, princess. do what your boyfriend tells you.”rafe groans, voice rough.

their voices, their heat, their bodies moving you where they want — it breaks you. your vision goes white as your orgasm rips through you, and you scream into jj’s neck.

“fuckkk, baby. that’s it.” jj groans loud, hips jerking up into you. rafe curses behind you, grip bruising on your hips as he thrusts harder.

“she’s milking us. holy shittt.” rafe thrust deep one last time before spilling into you, teeth digging into your shoulder.

your body’s shaking, overstimulated, but jj’s still holding you, kissing you through it, whispering praises.

jj follows seconds later, his own groan vibrating against your throat as he bucks up into you, filling you until you’re stuffed of his semen.

the room is quiet except for your ragged breathing, jj’s hand petting your hair, rafe flopping back on the bed with a groan.

“dude.” rafe pants, laughing weakly. “top one now. easy.”

jj snorts, kissing your damp cheek. “told you. better than pong.”

“you guys are so stupid.” you whine, half-asleep already.

the shouting downstairs, the sound of glass breaking, doors slamming. and you can’t breathe when it gets like that, so you do what you always do. crawl out the window and ride your bike straight to the only place you ever feel safe.

it’s late, way past midnight, and your hands shake a little when you knock on his door. jj answers faster than you expect, blond hair messy, a beer bottle still in his hand.

and the second his eyes land on you, you watch him soften. your wet lashes, hoodie zipped but not all the way, and pajama shorts too small for this kind of night.

“hey, hey” his voice drops low, barely above the music coming from inside. “what happened?”

you don’t answer. you just grab him, arms around his waist and face buried in his chest. he smells like weed and saltwater and jj, and suddenly the knot in your throat burns.

“sorry” you mumble against him, rubbing your eyes like a kid. “i just— i couldn’t stay there tonight.”

but then you realize he isn’t alone. there are two guys slouched on the couch, baggies and lighters scattered across the table, smoke curling around their heads. they look at you the second you step inside, and it’s that slow head-to-toe look.

“yo, jj." one of them says, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “this your girl?”

“nah, man. just a friend.” jj’s arm tenses around you, shaking his head.

then he leans down, close enough that only you hear it. “go to my room, yeah? i’ll be there in a sec.”

and because it’s jj, because you trust him even when you shouldn’t, you nod. you walk past the guys with their heavy stares, and shut his bedroom door behind you.

by the time the front door slams and the voices fade, you’re already half-asleep on his bed. the mattress dips and you flinch, eyes snapping open, but it’s just him. his hand on your arm, his voice softer than when he talked to the guys.

“hey, it’s me. you’re good.”

you swallow hard, eyes burning all over again.

“they were so loud tonight, j. like… i thought…” your voice cracks, and you hate how small you sound.

jj doesn’t let you finish. he just pulls you against him, holds you like he’s done it a hundred times.

“who were those guys?” you ask after a moment, your voice muffled in his shirt. he hesitates, which is answer enough.

“just… some friends of barry’s.”

you pull back to look at him.

“don’t worry about it, alright? i got it handled.” he coughs, like he wants to bury the topic, then forces a grin. “so you crashing here tonight?”

“i don’t wanna go home.” you admit, fiddling with the edge of his sheet.

“your parents are gonna kill me if they find out you keep sneakin’ over here.”

you laugh, a little watery. “what, you kicking me out?”

“no.” his smile tilts, tired but real. “was actually planning on hooking up with some tourist later, but…” he shrugs, eyes meeting yours. “guess i’ll stay in instead.”

you roll your eyes.

“guess i’ll take the couch.” he mumbles after a while, already starting to sit up. you grab his arm before he can move.

“no. stay here.”

he quirks a brow, smirking a little.

“but you always move too much when you sleep.”

your eyes narrow, lips pressing into a thin line. “jj.”

he laughs at the look you give him, hands raised in mock surrender. “okay, okay. i’ll stay.”

he disappears into the bathroom, and you can hear the sound of water running, the scrape of his toothbrush against his teeth.

when he comes back, you’re already tucked on one side of his bed, blanket pulled to your chest, phone lighting up your face. missed calls and texts. you sigh, thumb locking the screen.

jj doesn’t say anything, just pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor before flicking off the light. he climbs in beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight.

“you know." he murmurs, voice teasing in the dark. “if your parents knew you were sleeping with me right now they’d actually kill me.”

you whip your head toward him, eyes wide even in the dark. “yeah. that sounded so bad.”

he chuckles, the sound low, warm. “i meant literally sleeping in my bed. not like that.”

your lips twitch, finally softening into a small smile. “goodnight, jj.”

“sweet dreams, princess.”

sleep comes easier than you thought it would, but the problem with jj being this close is that your body doesn’t care about boundaries, not even in dreams. you toss, you turn, and eventually your back ends up pressed flush against him. your ass nudges against his hip, his thigh, making him cling to the very edge of the mattress just to keep from touching you too much.

he’s dead asleep at first, but then—friction.

so slight he almost thinks he’s imagining it, until you shift again in your sleep, pushing back into him without meaning to. he groans softly, the sound slipping out before he can stop it. his eyes blink open, hazy from sleep, and he realizes he’s already half hard, straining against his shorts.

“god no." he breathes under his breath, forehead pressing to the pillow. he pokes your arm gently, whispering. “hey… hey, wake up.”

you only stir, mumbling something incoherent, moving just enough to roll a little closer to the middle of the bed. it gives him space, takes away the pressure, and he exhales a shaky sigh of relief.

but then he misses it. the warmth, the contact.

he stares at the ceiling, wide awake now. his hand drags over his face, debating and fighting himself. then slowly, almost helplessly, he inches closer again.

your back fits against his chest like it belongs there, and his hips brush yours all over again. his breath shudders out of him, because god, he’s so touch-starved it hurts.

jj tries to be good. really, he does. he tells himself it’s just your body shifting in your sleep, just an accident. but then you press into him again.

he grinds, just once, slow, and his eyes flutter shut because it feels so fucking good. the ache low in his stomach spikes, and before he knows it, he’s rolling onto his back, one arm thrown over his face like maybe that’ll stop him from completely losing it.

he shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t. he should get up, sneak to the bathroom, lock the door and take care of it there. but then his gaze drags to you.

you're curled on your side, lips parted, those tiny shorts riding up your thighs. and his self-control slips through his fingers.

his hand presses against his cock through his shorts, the friction making him groan softly, head tipping back into the pillow. it’s too much, too good, and he can’t stop.

“fuck.” he breathes, hips lifting into his palm, desperate for more relief.

he shoves his shorts down just enough, wraps his hand around himself, and the first stroke makes his whole body shiver. he moves faster than he means to, hand slick, hips rolling up into it, and the little grunts spilling from his throat are getting louder, enough to cut through the quiet.

the bed shifts under his movements, the mattress dipping and creaking softly. you stir. a sleepy little whimper slips from your lips, and jj freezes, panic flooding him instantly.

your lashes flutter, eyes heavy as you shift, searching for him even half-asleep. your leg drapes lazily across his thigh, holding him in place.

jj curses under his breath, his hand stills, cock throbbing painfully in his grip.

“don’t—” he whispers, voice hoarse, leaning close to you. “go back to sleep, princess. please.”

his heart hammers so loud he swears you can hear it. he’s cursing himself silently, because what the fuck is he doing? touching himself next to you, like some perverted dude.

he drags his palm over his face, chest rising and falling hard. he should stop. he should definitely stop. but then his hand shifts lower, brushing over your bare thigh. just barely like he can’t resist.

you twitch under his touch, a sleepy little hum leaving your throat.

“jj?" your voice is raspy and soft, like it always gets when you first wake up.

he freezes, but his hand doesn’t move away.

your eyes flutter open slowly, hazy from sleep, finding him beside you.

the sight makes your stomach twist—his flushed face, his hand still at his cock, his lips parted, guilty and needy all at once.

your voice is small, confused. “are you…?”

he squeezes his eyes shut. “shit.”

you push yourself up fast, heart pounding, staring at him. his hair a mess, chest heaving, pupils blown wide, his hand falling away like he’s ashamed.

“sorry." he mutters, voice rough. “fuck, i’m sorry, i didn’t—”

but the words die when your hand slides over his stomach, then lower, wrapping around him where he’s still hard, slick and heavy in your palm.

jj chokes on his breath, eyes darting to yours. but he doesn’t say anything. he can’t.

you stroke him slowly, watching his face.

“you... you like this?” your voice barely above a whisper.

his throat bobs, lips parting, and all he can do is nod.

the heat between you two is too thick to breathe in. you can’t help it. you unzip your hoodie, letting it fall open, your bra the only thing covering you underneath. jj’s eyes flick down, then back up to your face, like he doesn’t dare ask for more. like he’s scared the second he does you’ll pull away. so he just lets it happen.

you crawl lower, in between his thighs, and he doesn’t move. doesn’t even breathe, until your mouth replaces your hand, warm and wet around his cock.

jj groans, his head tipping back, fist clenching tight in the sheets. “jesus christ—”

you take your time, feeling him twitch on your tongue. his hips lift without him meaning to, fucking into your mouth like he can’t control it.

he’s close fast, way too fast.

“wait—, wait, you gotta stop, i’m gonna—”

but you don’t. you keep going, swallowing every sound he makes until he breaks apart with a strangled groan, finishing in your mouth, his whole body shuddering.

you lift your head slowly, wiping your lips, your chest rising and falling hard. jj’s hand shoots out, grabbing the front of your hoodie, dragging you up to him.

he kisses you rough, desperate, tasting himself on your tongue, groaning into your mouth as you swallow together.

when you finally break apart, both of you breathing heavy, you just stare at him.

“what the fuck was that, jj?” your voice is shaky. “why the hell were you jerking off right next to me?”

jj scrubs a hand over his face, still catching his breath, chest rising and falling hard.

“i didn’t— fuck, i didn’t mean to, alright?” his voice is low, defensive, like he’s trying to convince himself. “i just got horny, and you were right there, and—”

he shakes his head, teeth gritting, then shoots you a look. “but— huh? you are the one that just gave me head!"

you can’t answer. your lips part, your throat dry, but nothing comes out. you roll your eyes instead, huffing, and flop onto your side with your back to him.

“whatever, jj.”

he stares at you in the dim light. the room goes quiet for a beat. then suddenly he’s moving. the blanket yanks down, his hand curling around the waistband of your tiny shorts, tugging them down in one swift.

“what— the fuck are you doing?” you snap, twisting to look at him.

but his gaze drops instantly, and his breath catches. you’re wet. soaked, actually, the thin fabric of your panties sticking to you.

“so mad and for what.” his lips curl into a grin, low and smug. you whine, covering your face with your hands.

“you’re so annoying.”

he laughs, leaning over you, one hand sliding over your bare hip while the other palms your ass. “annoying, huh?”

his hand slips between your thighs, fingers brushing against your damp panties, and you jolt, a soft sound escaping your throat before you can stop it.

“doesn’t sound like i’m that annoying.” his voice is cocky.

you don’t push him away when he’s groping you, not when his fingers tease the fabric clinging to your folds. you’re letting him.

jj’s smirk deepens when you don’t stop him. your thighs shift, but not to push him away—just restless, nervous, like you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“mhm. i did that.” he mutters, dragging his fingers slowly over the damp spot on your panties. the sound you make when he presses down has his cock twitching all over again. “acting all pissed at me, but you’re pussy's soaked.”

“shut up.” you whine, face burning.

he chuckles, low and dirty, before tugging your shorts the rest of the way down. he tosses them off the bed, then hooks his fingers into your panties too.

“maybank—” you start, but it comes out more like a gasp when he pulls them aside, finally seeing you bare in the moonlight.

you squirm, but his hand is already there, fingers slipping between your folds, gathering your wetness. the first drag of his fingertip against your clit makes your hips jerk.

“oh my god—” you breathe, nails digging into the sheets.

he circles your clit lazily, watching the way you twitch under his touch. he pushes a finger into you without warning, making you arch. your walls clutch around him immediately. he groans, pumping it in and out.

“shit, princess, you’re choking my finger.”

"i mean— you do have big fingers..." you hide your face in the pillow, whining.

but his free hand tugs your hair just enough to tilt your head back so he can see your expression. he adds another finger, stretching you, curling them just right until your moans turn higher.

“nah. don’t hide from me.”

his thumb brushes your clit, and you’re a mess already, hips rocking into his hand.

“wait— jj, j—”

he grins against your ear. “feeling good?”

you nod desperately, and that’s all it takes for him to pull his fingers out, leaving you clenching around nothing.

“relax. you'll like this.” he says, sliding down the bed.

before you can argue, his tongue is flat against your folds, groaning like he’s starved.

“holy shit.” he mumbles against you, licking a long stripe up your pussy before wrapping his lips around your clit.

your hand flies to his hair, tugging, thighs trembling as he eats you out like he’s been waiting his whole life for this. every flick of his tongue, every suck, drags you closer, and when he slides those fingers back inside while sucking your clit—you come hard.

a strangled cry leaving your throat as your hips grind against his mouth. jj moans into you, drinking it.

“you taste even better than i imagined.”

you’re still panting when he crawls back up, hovering over you. his shorts are already halfway down his hips, his cock heavy and hard, pressing against your thigh.

“so... do you want my cock inside your pussy? hm?" he says, voice rough, though his eyes already know you want it.

you grab his shoulders, pulling him down. “yeah just—fuck me, jj.”

that’s all he needs to line himself up, pushes in slowly, and both of you gasp at the stretch.

“jesus—” he groans, dropping his forehead to yours. “why are you this thight?”

“jj, can you just— move.”

he bottoms out, giving you a second to adjust before pulling back and snapping his hips forward again. the bed creaks, the air filling with the sound of skin slapping, his groans mixing with your moans.

“you feel—fuck—so good.” jj grits out, his pace quickening.

your nails dig into his back, your body arching into his as he pounds into you, hitting deep with every thrust.

“mhm!— faster!— jj i’m—”

he growls against your neck, his thrusts growing rougher, more desperate.

your climax crashes over you, clenching around him so tight it drags a strangled curse from his throat. he buries himself deep, grinding against you as you pulse around him.

“fuckfuckfuck—” he groans, spilling inside you, hips stuttering.

both of you collapse into the sheets, breathless, sweaty, tangled together in the dark.

for a long moment, it’s silent except for your ragged breathing. then you finally whisper, half-teasing and half-serious.

“you’re still an asshole for jerking off next to me.”

jj just laughs, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “yeah, but you liked it.”

the apartment windows were fogged from the cold streets of moscow. it was supposed to be temporary— “a couple of days, until we can leave the country." that’s what rafe said.

every sound in the hall made your skin crawl, like the police that was looking for rafe was about to break down the door.

you were sprawled out on the couch, bare legs thrown up over the armrest, eyes half-lidded as you watched rafe. he was at the table with two of his men, they looked at their cards and nowhere else, never at you.

cards spread across his scarred knuckles and cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

a vodka bottle tilted back against your lips, the condensation dripping onto your thigh. you hummed along to the russian rap song that was buzzing out of the cheap speaker.

"rafeee" you whined loud—dramatic, dragging his name out like it annoyed him. “i’m so bored."

you stretched your arms above your head, tank top riding up, your tiny shorts showing way too much skin.

“then sleep, printsessa.” (princess) he said in that lazy accent, didn’t even look up at you right away. "and don't drink too fast."

you ignored him. you stumbled up, bare feet slapping against the floor. music still blasting, the alcohol warm in your belly now. you swayed, bottle in hand, moving your hips like you were putting on a show no one was allowed to watch.

the guys at the table sat stiff. they knew if they looked they’d end up with a bullet in the skull. and you knew too.

you laugh to yourself as you spun across the rug until you were behind rafe. leaning down over him as you tipped the bottle to his lips.

“open." you teased.

his eyes flicked up at you finally, and he did, his mouth parting just enough for you to pour it. he caught your wrist when you went to pull away.

“brat." he rasped, accent curling around the word. “you don’t listen.”

you bent over him to hug his neck, your chest pressed to his shoulder, ass curving out in the perfect view of the men across the table.

one of the men—just one stupid second—let his eyes flicker down to the curve of your ass.

click.

rafe had his gun up before you even noticed. still holding you with one arm, his other hand steady, the barrel pointed right at the man’s head.

“Вы видите что-то, что вам нравится?” (you see something you like?)

his voice was calm, terrifyingly calm.

the guy froze, his face pale, staring at his cards.

"нет, сэр." (no, sir.)

you leaned your chin on rafe’s shoulder and tilted your head, pouty. “do you want some?” you teased, holding the vodka bottle toward the poor man who was practically frozen in his seat. rafe’s finger was tightening on the trigger.

he shook his head quick, not daring to meet your eyes.

“boring." you huffed.

you plopped yourself down onto rafe’s thigh, swinging one leg over, clinging onto him like he was your favorite toy.

"can i play?" you asked, pointing at his cards, all doe eyes and pout.

rafe didn’t answer right away. his hand slid up your thigh, cold rings biting into your skin as his fingers dug in.

“Ты замерзла, милая. Иди надень куртку.” (you’re freezing, love. go put on a jacket.)

you groaned, dramatic, rolling your eyes as you slid off his lap. walking toward the bedroom.

you didn’t see it when you turned away, but rafe did. the other guy’s eyes flicked to you like he couldn’t help it. a slip, one second too long.

and that was it.

the sound of the chair scraping back was hard. rafe's hand gripping the man’s collar, gun shoved under his chin. the other guy frozen stiff in his seat, hands raised.

“xочешь посмотреть на мою девичью задницу, да? Я, блядь, вышибу тебе мозги.” (like to look at my girls ass, yeah? i'll fucking blow your brains out.)

rafe’s breathing was heavy, that vein in his neck pulsing. he heard you come skipping back, voice sweet and tipsy.

he shoved the man so back hard he stumbled, choking for breath. “Убирайтесь. Сейчас же.” (get out. now.)

the two men scrambled out of the flat without another word.

when you came back pulling on one of rafe’s old jackets. you blinked at the now-empty room.

“not even a goodbye. rude.”

rafe just dropped the gun on the table, sat back in the chair, his eyes locked on you.

you tiptoed over, and the second your lips brushed the side of his head, he grabbed your wrist hard enough to make you stumble as he yanked you around and down into his lap.

the vodka bottle nearly slipped from your hand, and you giggled, leaning into him like you hadn’t just gotten his men kicked out with one wiggle of your ass.

“you think you’re funny, malen’kaya?” (little one?) his voice was low.

“maybe.” you batted your lashes, twisting the cap off the vodka again like you were innocent.

rafe’s hand slowly spread your legs across his lap.

“do you like making me angry?” he asked, and there was no smile in it.

“you’re always angry” you teased, tipping the bottle to your own lips, letting the vodka burn down your throat.

rafe snatched the bottle away, slammed it onto the floor, and his hand was around your jaw. fingers digging into your cheeks, forcing your head back so you were looking straight into his eyes.

“i’m angry when other men look at you. but i’m furious when you let them.”

you rolled your eyes, lips parting against his hold.

“not my fault they have eyes—”

his mouth was on yours before you could finish, bruising, rough, stealing the breath right out of your chest.

you moaned into it, thighs squeezing around his leg, grinding without even realizing.

he felt it, pulled back just enough to smirk against your swollen lips.

his free hand slid up under your tank top, over your ribs, up to your chest. he tugged the fabric down, exposing you to the chill of the room.

“you just need a good fuck to start behaving.”

you giggled breathless, grinding harder onto his thigh. “mhm. just need your cock.”

his laugh was more of a growl than anything else.

you brushed with your arm the gun still resting on the table next to you without him noticing.

when rafe pulled back, his lips were wet, swollen. “get on your knees.” he ordered.

you blinked, dizzy. “what if i don’t?”

his grip tightened on your throat, not enough to choke. your body reacted before your brain did. you slid off his lap, down between his legs, knees hitting the floor.

he leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs, his hand brushed your cheek, almost sweet, before gripping your hair hard, forcing you closer.

“открыть рот.” (open your mouth.)

you did. mouth open, tongue peeking out, eyes locked up on him from the floor. but your gaze shifted lazy, to the gun on the table.

and before he could stop you, your hand reached for it.

“printsessa…” rafe’s voice was warning, his accent dragging. “don’t.”

you only smirked, fingers wrapping around the grip, the weight of it heavy, cold. you lifted it slow, like you were playing a game.

his jaw ticked, but he didn’t stop you. instead, he leaned back further, spreading his legs wider, watching.

you giggled, resting the gun against your lips, kissing the barrel. “mm… look, rafe” you teased sing-song. “is this your toy?”

“careful.” he muttered.

you hummed, tilting your head, sliding the barrel past your lips, slow. the cold metal pressed against your tongue, sliding deeper until your lips wrapped around it. your eyes fluttered shut, moaning softly around the gun like it was him.

rafe’s fist slammed the table hard, but he didn’t rip it from you.

you kept bobbing your head just slightly, drool slicking the black steel. you pulled it out with a pop, grinning, tongue dragging over the length of it.

“Он заряжен, милая.” (it's loaded, sweetie.) his words rough, but his cock strained against his pants.

you giggled again, bringing the gun back to your lips, fingers on the trigger. “is it?”

he snatched it from you so fast you gasped, tossing it onto the couch behind him. his hand gripped your face.

“Почему ты такая ебаная скотина?" (why are you such a fucking brat?) he hissed.

you bit your lip, wide-eyed, almost innocent. you were soaked just from the way he said it, from the way his hand dug into your hair and forced you down until your lips brushed the bulge straining his pants.

“open.” he ordered again. his free hand undoing his belt with practiced speed.

you obeyed this time, lips parting, your smile still lingering even as his cock slapped against your tongue.

he groaned low in his chest, both hands gripping your hair now, guiding your head down over him.

you moaned. the taste of him and vodka mixing until you were dizzy. his head fell back, lips parted. but his eyes snapped down to you again, deadly serious.

your throat was raw, drool dripping down your chest as rafe finally yanked you off him with a wet pop. his cock glistened, spit and precum smeared across your lips, and you laughed through your panting.

“could’ve gone deeper." you teased, licking your swollen mouth.

he laughed mean, dragging you up by your hair. “you want deeper?”

you stumbled, legs shaking as he pulled you over to the couch. the gun lay where he’d tossed it.

rafe grabbed it before you could blink, pressing the cold barrel to your cheek as he bent you forward, your chest against the cushions, your ass high in the air.

his other hand ripped at your shorts, dragging them down rough. you squealed, trying to look back at him, but the gun pressed harder to your lips, forcing you still.

you parted your mouth, letting him slide the barrel back inside. your moan was muffled around the steel, spit coating the cold metal.

“so quiet now, hm.” his voice was teasing.

his free hand yanked your hips back, his cock slamming into you in one brutal stroke. you screamed around the gun, tears spilling instantly from the stretch.

rafe groaned, deep, his hips snapping into you with no mercy.

“my pretty girl." he snarled, “always acting stupid, but your pussy knows exactly who owns you.”

you gagged around the gun, drool soaking your chin, your nails clawed at the couch, your whole body shaking as he pounded into you from behind, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing in the room.

he pulled the gun from your mouth just long enough to slap your cheek with it.

“tell me” he ordered, accent heavy. “Ты хочешь, чтобы я наполнил тебя.” (you want me to fill you.)

“mm— fill me.” you choked out, voice wrecked, spit and tears glistening on your face. “rafe, please—.”

he shoved the barrel back between your lips, fucking you harder, bending low over your back to snarl in your ear.

“скажи это громче, детка.” (say it louder, baby.)

you screamed it around the gun, muffled and broken, “fill me— please— please.”

and rafe laughed, pressing the steel deeper down your throat as his thrusts grew rougher, more desperate.

his other hand reached around, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in fast, brutal circles until your legs buckled.

“come on my cock, baby.” he growled. “god— feels so good, yeah?"

your orgasm hit hard, tearing through you, blinding and messy. your scream gagged by the gun, body collapsing against the couch cushions as he kept fucking you through it, chasing his own release.

"fuck— i'm gonna— fuck." when he finally came, it was with a feral groan.

he pulled the gun from your mouth and tossed it aside as he spilled deep inside you, grinding into your overstimulated body, keeping you pinned until you couldn’t breathe.

you collapsed, sweaty, shaking, face buried in the couch, your ass still up as his cum dripped out of you.

rafe leaned back, chest heaving, hair damp against his forehead, icy eyes still blown.

he gripped your jaw, turning your tear-streaked face up to look at him.

“next time you play with my pistol." he rasped, kissing your swollen lips. “i'll fuck you with it.”

and still, you smiled bratty as ever, whispering.

"i'll love that.”

you’re standing in the kitchen with your hair tied up, sleeves pushed back, flour dusting the counter. the oven hums low and warm, filling the air with that sweet, heavy scent of vanilla and chocolate—cupcakes rising.

the front door slams and you hear his voice before you even see him.

“babyyyy” rafe’s tone is this mixture of whiny and excited, like a puppy left outside too long.

you grin to yourself, not even looking up as you smooth the last bit of frosting into the mixing bowl. “kitchenn.”

and then, his big frame fills the doorway. his shirt a little wrinkled from work, his hair messy like he’s been running his hand through it the whole drive home. his eyes light up like a goddamn christmas tree the second the smell hits him.

“no fuckin’ way—” he’s already moving fast, long strides across the kitchen. “cupcakes? for me?”

before you can even get a word out, his arms are around you, chest pressed tight against your back, chin dropping into the curve of your shoulder.

“hi.” he murmurs into your neck, peppering little kisses there like he physically cannot stop himself.

you laugh softly, leaning into him, free hand coming up to ruffle his messy blond hair.

“hey pretty boy. how was work?”

that’s all the permission he needs to launch into it, dramatic as hell.

“terrible. the worst. the sun was trying to murder me, my dad wouldn’t shut the fuck up about inventory, and this dude wouldn’t stop talking about some stock shit i don’t care about. like bro, i’m not trying to buy amazon or whatever, i’m just tryna make it through the day. and then—”

you hum at the right moments, shaking your head, pretending to scold when he curses too much, all while you’re pulling the tray of cupcakes out of the oven.

golden perfect cupcakes. rafe, predictably, immediately reaches out like a five-year-old.

“don’t even think about it” you snap, smacking his hand lightly with the edge of the oven mitt. he jerks back, gasping like you just wounded him.

“oh wow abuse?? i just got home from a hard day at work and you hit me? after i’ve been slaving away—”

“you’re gonna burn your mouth, dumbass.”

“mhm sure” he grins, wide and shameless, trying to dip in again only for you to block him with your hip.

you set the tray down and he groans dramatically, wrapping himself around you again, burying his face in your neck.

“you’re so mean to me. i’m literally starving. look, i’m wasting away.” he grabs your hand and presses it against his abs like he’s proving something.

you roll your eyes, fighting a smile.

“oh yeah, you’re real malnourished, cameron.”

he smirks, kissing along your jaw now, lips soft and a little needy.

“c’mon, baby. just one. i’ll be good, promise.”

“your nose will grow.”

“okay, two.”

“u liar”

“fine. three.”

you can’t help but laugh, shoving at his chest but not really pushing him away. his hands settle at your waist, thumbs tracing lazy circles, eyes all wide and puppyish when you finally glance at him.

and fuck, he looks so pretty like this. and he's all yours apparently.

“you’ll wait” you say firmly, leaning in to kiss the top of his head, soft and lingering. “or i’ll eat the first one myself.”

his jaw drops like you’ve threatened murder.

“that’s actually fucked up, baby.”

“rules are rules.”

he groans again, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. but he’s smiling. so cute.

some minutes passed and the cupcakes are finally cool enough to touch, and rafe is practically vibrating beside you, eyes locked on them.

“alright” you sigh, grabbing the frosting bowl. “but if you eat one before they’re decorated—”

“i would never disrespect the art” he cuts in, pinky promising.

you snort, sliding him a butter knife. “then make yourself useful.”

watching him try to frost a cupcake is… honestly pathetic. he smears way too much on, messy swirls and globs that look more like a mudslide than anything edible. but he’s so damn proud of it, standing there shirt tight across his shoulders, grinning at you like he just painted the mona lisa.

“look at that, baby. bakery-level. call me gordon ramsay.”

“baby, it looks like shit.”

“jealousy is a disease.” he winks, and before you can dodge, he drags a little swipe of frosting across your cheek.

you gasp, hand flying up. “rafe cameron!”

his grin widens. “uh oh.”

you dip your finger in frosting and smear it across his jaw. the frosting fight spirals fast—him catching your wrist, you trying to twist away, laughter spilling out of both of you. in the scuffle, frosting ends up on his lips.

he doesn’t even wipe it off. just leans in and kisses you. it’s sweet, messy, his mouth hot against yours, tongue sliding over frosting before he deepens it, one hand cupping your face, the other firm at your waist.

you taste sugar, vanilla and rafe. it's sticky and warm. you melt against him like you always do.

he pulls back just a little, forehead pressed to yours.

“told you i’d get the first bite.”

you smack his chest, breathless.

“you’re an idiot.”

“your idiot” he corrects, lifting you easily onto the counter like you weigh nothing.

he steps in close, between your knees, hands sliding under your thighs to keep you there. your pulse jumps when his lips trail down your neck, slow and teasing, his words muffled against your skin.

“god, i missed you today. thought about you the whole damn time. couldn’t wait to get home.”

you tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly until he looks up at you. his pupils are blown wide, frosting still on the corner of his mouth, and fuck—he’s beautiful.

“how much?” you whisper, and he’s already kissing you again, deeper this time, needy, like he’s starved.

his hands slide under your shirt, warm palms against your waist, dragging up over your ribs. every touch is hungry but soft, he groans low when you tug him closer.

he can’t go five minutes without touching you, and you love how clingy he is.

the cupcakes taste just like him. sweet and addictive.

you wake up to the sound of an axe.

not metaphorically, not symbolically, like an actual axe hitting actual wood. you blink at the frosty window. theres snow, everywhere. again.

outside, in nothing but grey sweatpants and boots, stands oh, and also, shirtless. rafe.
he's chopping wood with steam curls from his skin in the cold air. his breath fogs up as he lifts the axe above his head and slams it down, arms flexing, abs tight.

you stare, and you forget to breathe.

fuck he's so hot.

you wander into the kitchen in socks and sleepy shame, trying to pretend you didn’t just watch your situationship's hot build for five minutes straight.

nadya, his mother, barely glances up from her tea.

“you like him chopping wood, da?”

you blink, caught.

“…i mean— he’s just… out there. half-naked. in the snow. why is he doing that?”

she shrugs.

“men must suffer. is good for them.”

you stare. “he looks like he’s enjoying it.”

“then i make him chop more.” she sips her tea.

you steal his hoodie from the back of a chair. it smells like him. when you open the back door, the cold slaps your face but you go anyway, crossing the snow-dusted yard toward him.

he doesn’t hear you at first. he's too busy splitting another log clean in half like it insulted his mother.

but then you wrap your arms around his bare back from behind, cheek against the warmth of his spine.

he stiffens for a second.

“zayka…” (bunny…) his voice is rough with cold and morning. “what are you doing outside?”

“watching you chop wood. is that allowed?”

he chuckles, axe still in one hand.

“you look small in my hoodie.”

you hug him tighter. he’s warm for some reason, maybe its all the muscle. he also smells like pine and snow and like, man.

his hand drops the axe. the other one? finds your ass and grabs it. full palm, like he owns it.

you yelp and slap his hand.

“rafe! your mom is inside!”

“so?”

“she has a knife collection.”

“so do i.”

you kick his leg lightly. he just laughs, turning to face you, chest still bare, mouth red from the cold.

“you wear my clothes and hug me like that. what do you expect me to do?”

you try to look annoyed but fail. he leans down, brushing his cold nose against yours.

“i take you on date today” he says suddenly.

“you’re just telling me that?”

“da.”

“not even a question?”

“no. i take you out today.”

you grin. “and what does a date with you look like?”

he shrugs, still holding your waist, his breath warming your lips.

“snow. cold. my hands on you. maybe stolen wine.”

you hum. “and if i say no?”

he tilts his head. “then i carry you.”

you stare at him. he’s not even joking. he never is.

he makes you wear two layers of socks. pulls your scarf tight around your neck himself. ties your boots and mutters about “soft american feet.”

he carries the stolen bottle of wine in a plastic bag like it’s water.

“no cars” he says. “we walk. is romantic.”

“it’s like so freezing cold.”

“so perfect, right?”

you hike up a hill trail behind the village. some old trees and cold wind. the snow creaks under your steps. you can hear birds and nothing else.

rafe walks a little ahead with a big jacket, hoodie underneath, sweatpants tucked into boots. buzzcut peeking out from under his ushanka. cheeks pink and jaw sharp.

you’d follow him anywhere.

you reach a little clearing tucked between pines. he throws down a wool blanket he packed without telling you and sits.

“c'mere.”

you sit next to him. he opens the wine with a rusty key and takes the first swig. then hands it to you.

“we drink. then i kiss you... then maybe more.”

you sip, coughing when it burns. of course it does.

he laughs.

“so weak.”

you glare. he tugs you into his lap, you straddle him, cold thighs bracketing his warm hips. your hands slide into his jacket. his go straight to your waist.

“you wear my hoodie again.” he says low.

”you don't like it?”

“it makes me want to take it off.” your cheeks burn by that. he leans in. “do you want that?”

you nod.

“use words, zayka.”

“yeah” you whisper. “i want that.”

“good.” and then he kisses you.

it starts soft, his lips against yours, slow and warm in the cold. breathless with your noses brushing.

but he gets hungry fast. his hands slide under your hoodie, your sweater, your shirt. palms rough on your ribs. thumbs grazing the undersides of your breasts.

“too many clothes” he mutters. “hate winter.”

he peels your jacket off, hoodie next. your skin flashes to the cold. you gasp.

he tugs up your sweater just enough to mouth over your breast, tongue warm, hand squeezing your waist. you moan.

“shhh” he smirks. “or forest will hear.”

you grind against him, desperate for friction.

he groans. “you want this again?”

his cock is hard under you, thick through the sweatpants.

“maybe.”

you rub against it. he growls in his throat.
“in snow?”

you just nod, and he flips you fast. rafe lays you back on the blanket, climbs over you, biting kisses down your stomach.

he pushes your leggings down, your panties next.

he doesn’t even undress fully—just frees his cock from his pants, thick and flushed and already dripping for you.

you’re not ready. not really. but you want it.

“please, rafe…”

“like it when you say please.” he says. and he pushes in.

you cry out. the stretch is brutal that your eyes roll back. he goes slow—one inch at a time. groaning curses in russian.

“suka… takaya uzkaya…” (fuck… so tight…)

“bozhe… tebe nravitsya eto, da?” (god… you like this, yeah?)

he fucks you deep, slow at first, hips grinding, mouth on your neck. the wine somewhere spilled over the snow. you’re gone.

your orgasm builds sharp and sudden while you moan his name.

“shhh” he whispers. “be quiet. you don’t want someone to hear you like this”

“shut up” you gasp, and he grins, enjoying it.

“so mean.”

when you both finish, gasping all sweaty under a cold sky, he doesn’t pull out right away. just stays inside you, holding you close, breath warm against your shoulder.

“next time, we do this in house” he mumbles. “but this… was good.”

you laugh breathlessly. “what kind of date was that?”

“russian one.”