#why is the pope so happy with it i hate it

[sullisuu]

poor fucking michelangelo imagine painting the sistine chapel and hating every second of it

[maybankswhore]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄.

summary: even though jj refuses to admit his feelings for you— he doesn’t want anyone else to have you.

warnings: cursing

prompt: “why are you mad?” “i’m not mad , i just think you can choose better people to kiss.”

The dynamic between you and JJ was undoubtedly strange. You’d two hold hands , hug for longer than ‘friendly’ hugs usually went for , have sleepovers where you’d cuddle and kiss his cheek. It was like a relationship without the title and without the kissing and sappy lover girl esqe commitment.

But it started to get hurtful. To be the girl that was always there , the only girl that was ever there , and still be seen as nothing more than just a friend. God , how you absolutely hated using the word ‘friend.’

There was hookup after hookup , one after the other. JJ would tell you all about them , seeing nothing wrong in confiding his deepest thoughts with his ‘best friend.’ It was harmless in his mind. If you were too hook up with anyone , he’d want to hear about it. I mean— it’s not like there were guys lining up for you at the door. You were stagnant and clearly into JJ so most guys didn’t bother trying. So while JJ figured he’d be okay with hearing about it— it turned out to make him feel the complete opposite.

All four Pogue’s were sitting around the fire in John B’s backyard as you sat there bashfully , remembering your work shift earlier that morning.

It had started like any other day— the same old faces that come for the same old cup of coffee. Some were a bit less frequent and the tips were all in the same. Business wasn’t necessarily ‘booming’ but it was a moderately profitable day. Today had seemed like any other day— until it wasn’t.

A boy who was not much older than you were had walked in and you swore your heart stopped. There wasn’t many people you looked twice at , beings that you suffered with the cruelty of unrequited love. But this one had made you look twice. His hair was shaggy brown , stopping right above his eyebrows. His green eyes seemed kind , the minute he had mumbled ‘hello’ to you.

You were surprised he asked for your number. The banter between the two of you , and how charming he was seemed to brighten your morning just a bit— and since JJ hadn’t seemed to be confessing his undying love for you any time soon , it seemed to be the right time to try and put yourself out there.

“No way you actually gave some random guy your number.” JJ scoffed from the side of you. He wasn’t sure why hearing you talk about another guy that way made him feel so. . . mad. Sure he cared about you , but never really paid attention to what kind of care it was. He always chalked it up to knowing you his whole life , declaring you his bestfriend for life. But watching the way your eyes danced amongst the flame with a certain girlish glow , his heart beat faster than he had ever felt before.

You rolled your eyes. “Okay and? It’s not like you don’t give out your number at every boneyard party.” You defended yourself.

“She’s right.” Pope pointed at her.

“Yeah I think it’s sweet.” Kiara gushed , hyping it up more than it really was. She knew JJ had a crush on you— anyone with two eyes could see that. He was just too stupid to bother realizing it. “It’ll be like those movies where the girl falls for the guy from the coffee shop.” She placed a hand on her heart dramatically. “That’s like , super romantic.”

“I know!” You sighed dreamily. You had always been such a romantic. Reading , writing , watching it. Those silly little cliche book plots coming to life.

JJ rolled his eyes. “It’s not that romantic.”

“Why’re you being such a hater right now?” You asked JJ , crossing your arms over your chest annoyed. “You should be happy for me! Stuff like this never happens to me.”

JJ began to think back over the years before realizing that you were right. You were always with him or the other Pogue’s and when there were parties , he’d find some girl to mess around with somewhere before finding you so you two could go home together like you always had. He hadn’t remembered the last time you even talked about liking someone. His chest began to ache at that— feeling bad. Of course he wanted romantic stuff to happen for you so why did he feel so defensive about it? Sighing , he shook his head of the confusing feelings. “You’re right , I’m sorry. What was his name?”

He swallowed down whatever he thought he was feeling , doing what he did best ; ignoring the problem until it eventually went away. Because he couldn’t think of you like that. . . The two of you were just friends. You always had been— right?

John B and Pope shared a knowing look. You smiled obliviously and continued.

“Nate.”

“Nate?” John B asked with his face turning red.

“Yeah?”

“As in Nate Montero?” Pope pressed further.

JJ shifted in his seat uncomfortably , looking at you. “As in the guy who cut my hair in Kindergarten?!”

You covered your mouth as you gasped , remembering how much JJ had cried because some kid on the playground cut a chunk of his hair off. The name did seem familiar to you at the time but you hadn’t even remembered then. JJ’s face was scrunched up with disgust while the Pogue’s doubled over into laughter. How ironic.

“It was a long time ago!” You groaned.

“I don’t give a shit! That little bastard cut my hair. The hair I had been growing for years.” He threw his hands up in the air. “You can’t go out with him.” JJ said immediately with his nose turned in the air.

“Oh yes I can.”

JJ raised his eyebrows at you , taken aback by the seriousness in your voice. Something bubbled inside of him— something he couldn’t quite figure out. Whatever it was , though , he didn’t like it. “That’s like a betrayal!” He said after a few seconds.

“John B literally dates Sarah Cameron!” You pointed out , giving him a soft smile of apology when he shot you a look. “Sorry but it’s true.”

“She isn’t wrong.” Kiara chirped up.

“You’re literally friends now!” Scoffed John B.

“Yeah— now.” You pointed out. “But at first there was hella beef that was deeper than getting your hair snipped in Kindergarten.”

John B groaned. “Can we not bring me up into this? This is between you and JJ.”

“There’s nothing between me and JJ—” you ignored the way your stomach began to hurt at that. The words only fueling your desire to see the guy , Noah , from the coffee shop again. “I’m seeing him.”

“Y/N this conversation isn’t over!” JJ called after you once you picked up your beer can and started walking towards the house. You didn’t bother looking back , throwing him the middle finger as you disappeared behind the doors.

JJ’s eyes turned to slits and looked at the Pogue’s with an annoyed expression. “Can you believe her?”

“Believe what? That she finally finds a guy attractive other than you?” Kiara folded her arms across her chest. “If you aren’t going to be with her then let someone else who wants to be and be happy for her.”

JJ furrowed his eyebrows at Kiara. He glanced at Pope and John B before looking back at her. “Y/N/N does not find me attractive.” He waved her off.

“Oh please.” Pope muttered under his breath.

“I say we just let this play out.” John B stretched out with a yawn.

“This could end badly—” Pope pointed out.

“Or JJ will finally get his head out of his ass.” Kiara snorted.

JJ stood up in front the Pogue’s with an uneasy look. “I don’t know what you’re all talking about but the only way this ends badly is if Y/N decides to go ahead with that guy. He’s bad news.” He huffed , running back into the Chateau.

“He’s so jealous.” John B smirked while shaking his head.

“Very.”

It had been very tense between the two of you. You were so mad at him for thinking he had any right to tell you who you could or couldn’t date— especially after years of pining after him , and watching him go through girl after girl without so much as glancing your way. You weren’t going to keep hoping for someone to look at you anymore.

Nate had texted you to meet up and you did. It was a nice date , nothing too fancy or mind blowing. Just a simple date. One that ended in a small goodbye kiss on John B’s front porch— the place you normally stayed on on the weekends when your parents were out and about , barely thinking twice about you.

You were glimmering when you walked back in. You figured the Pogue’s would be in the backyard like they always were , so you breezed past the living room and into the kitchen for a glass of water. Your thoughts were everywhere because you did like Nate , and the kiss left you breathless— but it wasn’t like what you thought it would be. Though , none of the past kisses ever were. There was always something missing , making you rethink them.

“Oh so the traitor is back.” JJ strolled into the kitchen without looking at you , his tone hard.

This had been the first time in the past two days he bothered talking to you. You figured he was just pissy you decided to go out with Nate after all , despite the silly Kindergarten incident.

“Why are you mad?” You put down your water bottle and stepped in front of him so he couldn’t look away from you.

“I’m not mad. I just think you could choose better people to kiss.” JJ said. His fingers dancing towards the side of her face.

You felt your breath catch in your throat. Pulling your face away from his hand , you sighed. “If this is about what happened in fricking Kindergarten—”

JJ grabbed your face in his hands , your cheeks hollowing out between your teeth as he did so. You looked at him through fluttering eyelashes , your cheeks burning up. “This isn’t about what happened.” He murmured to you.

This whole conversation had him thinking. That feeling he was feeling— it wouldn’t go away. He had tossed and turned all night that night because his stomach was so sick thinking about you with someone else. He didn’t know why it never occurred to him that you’d eventually find someone else. He didn’t know why he wasted away all this time being with girls who didn’t mean anything. JJ wanted to kiss you. And to hold you like more than a friend. He didn’t want you with Nate— or with anyone. And he felt so bad about never realizing it , and always pushing away those feelings you’d make him feel because he was scared to lose you.

But he couldn’t lose you to someone else.

“I don’t want you to kiss Nate. . .” JJ breathed , inching closer to your face. Your eyes were wide with shock as you watched him , your heart beating crazily in your chest. He still held your face in her hands , watching your reaction to his words. He only hoped that you’d want to kiss him back.

“JJ—” you mumbled. “What’re you—”

“I want to kiss you.” JJ told you , swiping his thumb on your bottom lip. “Only if you’ll kiss me.”

Your heart began to race as you studied JJ’s face. The crush that you had buried inside of you for years was bursting in your chest , making friends with the butterflies in your stomach. Your mouth went dry as you looked at him. JJ left go of the hold he had on you to simply cup your cheek.

“JJ don’t be mean.” You whispered. “If you’re doing this just because I went out with Nate—”

“This isn’t because of Nate.” JJ cut you off. “Not completely , anyway. It was at the beginning but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. His hands on you.” His left hand slithered down to your waist , snaking around it. “Your lips on his.” His other hand pulled at your bottom lip again. “I got jealous.”

You stared at stunned. “Jealous?”

“I think I like you , Y/N.” JJ sighed to himself , looking at you sweetly. “And I think I’ve always known but I just ignored thinking it would go away.”

You swallowed thickly looking up at him. “Did it?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It didn’t.”

“Then. . .” you took a deep breath and stood taller , clearing your throat to sound more confident. “Then I think I want you to kiss me.”

With wild eyes , JJ was treading a line he wasn’t sure it was safe to cross. But the way his heart burned inside of his chest , his ears ringing and pulse getting faster— it would be worth whatever outcome if it meant he got to feel what it was like to kiss you. JJ got closer to you , so close that you felt his breath fan your face. “Do you think or do you know?”

Quietly you weighed your options in your head. There were so many things going through your mind , telling you a million different things. But the way you felt was telling you to kiss him. Finally. After all this time— you wanted to make him wait it out like you had for so long. But you couldn’t control yourself. “I know.” You took the initiative to connect your lips to his , tired of this waiting game. It was either now or never.

He kissed you back immediately. His hands finding home around your waist. His knees felt weak and your heart felt mushy. As your head tilted to the side , a sense of relief fell over you. This was it. This was why no other kiss had ever compared or felt like it mattered. Because it was JJ , it was always JJ.

He was your missing piece to it all.

JJ was the first to pull away , breathless. He felt crazed as he looked at you with eyes wild. Nothing had ever felt like this with him— no other girl could ever compare to you.

“Like I said. . . this ended badly!” Pope bursted out , practically falling out into the kitchen. Kiara and John B rolled their eyes at him.

“Finally!” Kiara groaned. “I was so sick of the sappy back and forth shit.”

“I for one , agree.”

You hid your face in your hands embarrassed while JJ smirked triumphantly. “I have a full head of hair and I got the girl.”

“I hate you.”

[lovelyjj]

maybe a mix of “i’m just afraid” and “tell me the truth”? 🫶

avoidance

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.4k

a/n: I lowkey hate this.

You and JJ were the best of friends. You did everything together. He was your person you told everything to. He was your partner in crime. There were no secrets between the two of you.

You and JJ were on the couch that was on John B’s porch, enjoying the rain. The rain was blanketing the outer banks in water, soaking the grass and trees.

“I love the rain,” you stated.

“Really why?” JJ asked.

“I don’t know it makes me feel less alone, like the sky is crying with me.”

“That’s a really good reason,” JJ replied.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

“You want to dance?” JJ asked with a goofy grin on his face.

“In the rain?” You questioned surprised.

“In the rain,” JJ confirmed.

“Ok.”

JJ got up and reached his hand out for you to take, which you gladly accepted. The two of you went out on the grass and JJ held onto one hand. Then he put one hand on your waist and you put the hand not holding his, on his shoulder.

You guys danced and he spun you around and you got soaking wet. You were having a lot of fun though. You were having a blast and so was JJ.

When you were finished JJ ushered you inside as you giggled.

You both changed into dry clothes and afterwards JJ had an idea.

“Let’s make some hot chocolate,” JJ announced.

“Yes please,” you answered.

JJ whipped up two mugs of cocoa and you both sipped yours quietly.

“Tastes good,” you whispered.

“Wanna watch a movie?” you asked JJ.

“Sure,” JJ replied.

You both settled into John B’s living room and put on spider-man. You ended up falling asleep on the pullout couch.

——————

A couple days later you were all going out on the boat. The day was bright and sunny perfect for going out on the water.

JJ was looking at you in your bikini top. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at his best friend like that but he couldn’t help it. You looked hot and JJ could hardly look away from your chest.

You were oblivious to JJ’s ogling. You were happy to be on the boat with your friends.

“I can’t believe the weather is so nice,” you spoke.

“Yeah it’s perfect,” Pope responded.

“I thought it would be windy out here on the water,” JJ said removing his attention from your breasts.

“Hope we can catch some fish,” John B announced.

“Should be able to,” JJ commented.

While the boys were fishing, you Kiara and Sarah were on your phones. You were looking through your photos and you noticed how many you had of you and JJ.

There was one of you two at the beach with the waves in the background and a pretty sunset.

“Can I post this J?” you asked.

“Let me see it.”

You handed your phone to JJ and he took it. He scanned the image and smiled a genuine smile.

“Yeah that’s a good one. Go ahead fire away.”

You gave him a smile and decided to post the picture.

After a while you got a few comments. One was from Sarah that said, “Goals.”

You ignored it because you didn’t want to draw attention to it. The last thing you needed was people assuming your in a relationship with JJ cause your not. Your just friends and that’s all you ever will be.

—————

You were spending more and more time with JJ. Sometimes with the other pogues and sometimes just the two of you.

You were starting to catch feelings for him. You didn’t know how or why but being around him brought out the best in you. You started to fall in love with your best friend. You were scared you’ve never felt this way before. And what if he doesn’t love you back.

You decided to go to Kiara and ask for her help. She was working at the wreck, so you made your way over there.

“Hey Kie, I need your help,” you hesitated.

“Yeah sure y/n whatever you need,” Kiara replied.

“Here let’s sit down,” Kiara said as she directed you to a small table by the window.

You sat across from her and she gave you a kind smile with kind eyes.

“What’s up,” Kiara started.

“Well um I’ve sorta had these feelings for a certain someone and I’m not sure what to do about it. I just know I don’t want to tell them,” you began.

“Why don’t you want to tell them,” Kiara asked.

“I’m just afraid,” you bit your lip.

“What do you have to be afraid of?”

“Well first of all he could not feel the same way. He could reject me. He could laugh in my face. The list goes on,” you threw your hands up in the air.

“JJ wouldn’t do that,” Kiara raised a brow.

“How do you know it’s JJ?” You asked.

“Oh come on, who else would it be.”

“You’ve got a point.” you laughed.

“Speak of the devil,” Kiara whispered as you turned to the sound of the door opening.

JJ sauntered in to the wreck, Pope, John B and Sarah following suit.

“The gangs all here,” Kiara exclaimed.

“I need to go,” you whispered to Kiara.

“What why?”

“I just need to, ok!”

You slipped out the back door leaving the rest of the crew utterly confused.

—————

You have been avoiding JJ. It’s not that you wanted to, you hated the distance between you and not seeing him but you didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

You were getting worried because you thought JJ was on to you. Now JJ was getting worried because he hasn’t seen you in a while. He figured that you were mad at him. He hated it.

When the pogues would hang out all together you would not be there. You would miss the activities they had planned.

It was getting harder and harder hiding your feelings from JJ. You would always blush or your heart would beat really fast. So your only option you decided was to stop hanging out with him.

JJ was confused because of your absence. He was going to get to the bottom of this. He was determined.

He assumed you would be at your house. So that’s where he showed up. He knocked on your door a few times and after a few minutes you came to the door. You were shocked to see JJ standing there.

You wanted to run back to your room and hide. You were embarrassed by your actions. Just all of a sudden ghosting him. He didn’t deserve that.

“Hey um so I miss you. A lot. And I think we need to talk,” JJ scratched the back of his neck.

“Sure.”

You stepped outside and closed the door behind you.

“I need to know why your avoiding me,” JJ insisted.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“y/n.”

“Ok ok I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t want to see you.” You nervously crossed your arms and looked down.

JJ wasn’t buying it. “No. Tell me the truth.”

As you looked into JJ’s pleading blue eyes you felt your stomach flip. You couldn’t lie to him even if you tried.

“Fine. You want the truth? The truth is I’m in love with you. And I don’t know how to act around you anymore. I assumed you didn’t feel the same way so to save myself the rejection, I avoided you.”

“You thought I wouldn’t feel the same way?” JJ questioned.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” JJ confessed.

“Really?”

JJ nodded his head.

“I can’t believe you did all that.” JJ said surprised.

You took a step closer to JJ and he took your face in his hands.

“Come here,” JJ whined.

You didn’t need to be asked twice. You leaned in and JJ placed lips on yours. Instantly you felt electrifying sparks shoot trough you. Your stomach erupted with butterflies. The kiss was gentle and delicate. JJ was excited and you were giddy.

Your lips were crushing together and moving against each other. JJ was feeling warm all over. Your hands were resting on JJ’s shoulders. One of JJ’s hand rested on your jaw and one hand snaked lower to your butt squeezing lightly. This caused you to gasp, allowing JJ’s tongue to slide into your mouth.

After making out you pulled away breathless. You wore a big smile and JJ laughed.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” JJ broke the silence.

“I’ve missed you too,” you responded.

“Will you be mine?” JJ asked.

“Yes, I’ll be yours,” you exclaimed.

JJ picked you up and spun you around, your laughter mixing together to create a sense of harmony and happiness. Since you and JJ were best of friends your romantic relationship will only flourish because you loved each other wholeheartedly.

[tokkiwrites]

ㅤ𔓕ㅤㅤꪆৎㅤ𓈒ㅤ THREE'S A CROWD ＼ ㅤ♰ ㅤ⊹ㅤ ︵

Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x f!reader x Francisco 'Catfish' Morales

summary: your dad befriended some nice customers from his bar. fast-forward a year, they're all you can think about.

tags: pwp honestly, threesome mfm (YEEPPEEE) dbf! Santiago & Frankie, afab!reader w she/her pronouns, age gap, pet names (lots!!), Santiago has a thing with you being 'pure', virginity loss, reader is literally horny 24/7, doms! santi and frankie, sub! reader, rougher santi and softer frankie ig, dirty talk, slapping, spit (for like a sentence), choking, hair pulling, double penetration (in the same hole), head m receiving, voyeurism, unprotected p in v (wrap your dingaling!!), masturbating in the mirror for like a bit, lmk if i missed anything!!

ㅤ↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ ive been on an oscar isaac rush for the past few weeks, and i had to. first time writing ab a threesome...sooo. im trying to write in different ways, so if it all seems jittery, apologies!!! this has like 3.6k words. its not proofread!! I TRIED MY BEST :( enjoy !!

'i need it.' was becoming like a mantra for you now. every day, needy for touches and attention, those dirty reflections that never left your mind.

of course, you've done things with boys. well, one boy, your boyfriend, and those things being your average makeout sessions and hand jobs, nothing more. you knew what sex was, of course, but the urge to experience the rougher side of it was overflowing by the day. and you know these wishes started appearing and consuming as soon as your dad befriended two customers from the bar you help him run, Santiago and Frankie. One year ago, you saw them only three times, maybe four in the span of 3 months, but their visits were more and more frequent and well, that's how their friendship started.

At first you were skeptical, unsure of their means, but you missed seeing your dad so happy and when you got to know them you realized they were good. What mattered was your dad being less lonely.

all though, that kind of changed eight months ago when, in the dead of july, you witnessed them helping your dad building a small summerhouse in your backyard. There's nothing wrong with that. Just seeing them both sweaty, with muscles bulging and hands dirty, woke something inside of you. and the fact that you broke up with your first boyfriend ever, that you were together with since 17, didn’t quite help.

So yeah, you were happy for your dad, but hated that you had to see them almost everyday and in turn sit hours on end with soaked panties on and, like a broken record, playing fantasies in your mind of these older men doing as they please with you. and you don't know why these thoughts plagued your mind just now, at the age of 21, but it was getting in the way of every aspect of your life, these wild things making you want to live inside your fantasy world and never wake up.

Today was no different: another late night at the bar. your dad went home early to catch some sleep since tomorrow he'll have to leave for three days to help his brother, your uncle, move into his new home. That's fine. What's getting you is him assigning his friends to 'keep an eye on you' like you're some sort of child. but, somehow, you can get over that. What you can't get over is how are you going to survive three whole days being just in their presence? when your dad's here, it's different. You don't need to spend that much time in their proximity, but this? you'll have to lock yourself in your room to keep those thoughts at bay.

you we're getting lost within your mind again.

what if you were to tell them about these thoughts? not that they're about them, just... you know, boy advice?

that's insane. and stupid.

would they accept should you propose you three entangled in some...activities? they'd for sure disagree- you were their friend's daughter, and whilst they didn't know you for that long it for sure didn't sound right.

what if they agree, though? one night. one night for all of your dreams to become reality..but you couldn't live after that knowing what you'd be missing forever. they'd leave after. what if you'd beg for them to stay, to have them do things even more carnal to you? if you begged maybe and gave your freedom to them.

These kinds of thoughts cloud your mind every day, and now, they are making you forget about the real world, where you were supposed to serve Santiago a glass of whiskey. as the sound of a low chuckle pulls you out of your trance, you feel liquid pooling around your palm that was settled on the bar. and when it finally awakes you, your eyes meet him again. your heart jolts, and it gets you lightheaded again.

"Oh, I'm- god, I'm so sorry Mr.Garcia...I don't know what happenedㅡ" You panic, wiping hurriedly the bar, prompting yet another laugh from the man. " 's fine, doll, don't worry. all though... your dad might turn into the reincarnation of Lucifer if he sees how much whiskey you wasted." he leans over for some tissues, wanting to help you.

"No, it's fine, I'll do it-" you smile shyly, placing your hand on top of his to stop him from moving, this in turn made him tilt his head up only a little, which awarded him with a quick glance at your barely exposed cleavage.

'untouched.' he thought to himself.

"I won't say anything if you don't." your ears pick up his voice, and for a moment, you forgot about what he was talking about. "Oh, yeah, I'm not gonna...say anything." Your lips curl into a shy smile. " Hurry and clean this up. I'm gonna take you home since you gotta close anyway."

oh, lord.

"no, that's fine. I can walk-"

"said I'll take you home." you breathe out a quiet 'oh, my god' because you're sure you've just had an orgasm from his voice only.

"See, I know you have manners ‘cause your dad taught you to listen to your elders, seems I just gotta get a little stern with you, huh?" you shake your head, not sure what to make of what he just said, but you finish up cleaning as the door opens to reveal Frankie. "why're you still here, man?" he inquired as he took off his baseball cap to arrange his perfectly curly hair better.

you can't possibly be serious.

"on duty." he laughs and points towards you. "Ah."

"You know... my dad hasn't left yet, so you're not 'on duty' as far as I know. Also, he said to keep an eye on me. Not be my bodyguards!" You try to scold them in a way. At the end of the day, you are an adult, right? "Easy miss." Frankie puts his hands up."I just arrived.”

"Yeah, well I am leaving. Alone! So please-" you move your hands as a signal for them to leave. "Excuse us for ever bothering you, miss. May we at least stay here until you close?” Santiago sarcastically banters. "I guess.." You shrug, finishing washing your hands and putting the glasses away.

you hate how much you like them. and how much you want them to ravage you. if possible, you'd let them both take you right there on the bar counter, whilst potential passers-by saw you get fucked into oblivion.

9AM, your dad left, and you can't seem to fall back asleep. the bar will be closed for these these days, so you have nothing to do except steep into your own boredom. You decide to make yourself a cup of coffee and grab a book from the shelf. With your coffee in hand, you head out to the backyard, where you settle into a comfortable chair. As you sip your coffee and immerse yourself in the pages of the book, you find solace in the gentle breeze and the sounds of nature around you, embracing the quiet moments of the morning.

this works for a while, but there's an inexplicable itch you want to scratch. with a loud whine that scares some little birds away, you head back inside to find other things to do. "Please, i can't keep on thinking about them. What is wrong with me?" You scream whisper at yourself whilst looking in the mirror places in your hallway, "like..genuinely!"

as you stare a bit more into the mirror, your hands make their way up your torso and to your breasts, nipping at your lower lip as you can't seem to ignore the warmth from between your thighs. you start imagining both of them having their way with you, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror as they pumped your holes full of their come. touching yourself more, light fingers make their way under the shorts you were wearing, finally catching a feel of how wet you are. you moan, knees buckling as you picture both men marking you as theirs in all ways. "p-please.. Santi, Frankieㅡ"

"my, what do we have here, huh?" your eyes open wide, and still in your pants and palm still over your sensitive nipple, as two other reflections in the mirror stare back at you. "Mr.Garcia, Mr.Moralesㅡ"

"Cut the shit, doll. I think we're way past that." he motions loosely towards the indecent position you were in. "You're lucky it was us and not your dad. '' Frankie states. "I'm so sorry, I don't even..I can'tㅡ" you stutter and turn around slowly to face them, arms now falling to your sides.

"You want us?" Frankie asks you in the most serious tone you've heard him. "I- what? Huh?" you're left speechless by this sudden interrogation.

"Do you want us to fuck you, doll?" Santiago reiterated. But you stayed quiet, head low, too embarrassed to admit your true intentions. was it wrong? certainly. but was it the only thing you've dreamed about since you first saw them? Of course.

"Why don't you answer? You act like a little slut and yetㅡ" He steps closer and Frankie soon follows. "You're too shy all of a sudden? We were the ones who walked in on you, you know? touching yourself in front of the mirror like a dirty whore, huh? what would your dad say, baby?" he taunts you whilst Frankie reaches his strong grip and tilts your head up to look them in the eyes. "You didn't answer the question, sweet girl."

it takes a few seconds, but you muster up a hushed 'yes', causing them to smirk. "Show us, baby. C'mon, tell us how bad you want it." Dizzy and drunk on arousal, you succumbed to their touch, kneeling at their feet and looking up, pleading with tearful eyes in a silent entreaty to do as they please with you. but they don't budge. They wait patiently for you to show them how desperate you can get. it all overflows you, the cold floor in contact with your knees, their scent, your rugged breaths. "Please, I want- need it. I need you...so bad. need you toㅡ use me" you rub your thighs together. "Please..?"

"We'll take care of you. But...we can't promise to be too gentle. All though I don't think “gentle” is what you want." Your eyes glimmer, and your head spins. Did you hear that right? Is this really happening, or are you having the most beautiful dream, and when you wake up, you'll be sorrowful for days?

"for how long, baby, hm? since we first met? 'cause i know I've wanted to bend you over from the first moment I laid my eyes on the pretty thing you are." Frankie admits. " knew you had nothing else in this pretty head of yours, sweetheart. " Santiago laughs as he shoves your head lightly with his finger, causing you to whimper. "just wanna be fucked stupid, right? be our stupid, little fuck doll? that what you want?" and you nod in response, it takes you all of your power to not cry from how bad you want to feel them right now. "Ever done something like this?" and you shake your head no. "Shit. You poor little thing." he was right about you. He can feel his dick twitching at the thought of having you all splayed out, so innocent and untouched.

They instruct you to get undressed, clothes falling to the floor as they force you to crawl onto the couch all whilst they watch, fully clothed. getting closer to you, their calloused hands explore each part of your warm body as trails of kisses leave you hanging onto them. "gonna ruin you, baby, you know that, yeah?" of course you know. you've been yearning for this moment for almost a year.

they proceed to get naked, Santiago positioning himself in front of you and Frankie a little to your side. You couldn't believe it. This was so much more than you imagined; they were both long and girthy, with Frankie being a little more veiny than Santiagoㅡ a sight that made you drool. this will forever be imprinted into your brain.

"You look like a dumb puppy staring like that." Frankie snorts. "Haven't seen a cock before?" he's getting cockier with his remarks, as he urges you to respond. "Yes, but.. n-ot soㅡ big.." your cheeks grow red as you see Santiago's dick jump from your words. "Stroking my ego like that baby... how 'bout you stroke my cock instead, hm? can you do that for me?" anything. you were willing to do it all for them, make them so proud, they'd never want to leave.

your shaky hands wrap, barely, around both their lengths, as you stare up at them whilst standing straight so your boobs are on full display for them to eat up with their hungry eyes. you do it slow, unsure if you're doing it good, licking some of the precum from their slits from time to time, swirling your tongue around eachㅡ putting on a show. "You've done your homework, huh? Do it a little too well for a virgin."

"c'mon, hands and knees, I wanna fuck this pretty mouth of yours." Santiago pushes you back as Frankie strokes himself. "Pretty thing" he says as two digits trail down your back and help you position yourself better onto the couch. Frankie finally places himself behind you, teasingly playing with your folds, letting out a soft 'fuck' whilst feeling how wet you were. "Stretched yourself out for use before we came, right, sweet girl? You want me to help you out a little moreㅡ?"

"Noㅡ! Please.." you eagerly interrupt. "You cockslut. Haven't had an eager little thing like you since I was in college." He laughs as he positions his length in line with your hot entrance, leaving kisses down your back he slips inside slowly, and you choke out a cry, eyes brimming with tears as a sting pangs through your whole body. "sh, sh..I know, baby. I know." Whispering gently, Santiago pulls himself down and cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. As your lips finally met, time stood still, the world faded away, and all that remained was the electrifying sensation of something within you igniting. It was a moment painted with the hues of passion and longing, a symphony of emotions echoing through your soul.

He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you as the pain slowly fades away and is replaced by pure pleasure. pulling away, he levels himself and taps on your chin for you to open your mouth. Santiago hisses, tugging harder at your hair as a response to your warm tongue enveloping the tip of his dick. "shit, baby, open up for meㅡ thaat's it. good girl."

shuddering in anticipation, you part your lips further, allowing him to push deeper inside. you were already a mess- drool dripping down your chin as he fucked your mouth like there was no tomorrow, tears that stained your cheeks as he pushed your head lower; muffled moans, how you were gagging around his length, pure music for both of them to listen to.

"look so pretty, baby, mouth stuffed with cock.." you stare up at him through wet lashes as he lands a slap to your right cheek.

At your other end, Frankie was cautiously moving back and forth, not wanting to succumb to the tightness of your wet cunt that almost sent him over the edge just as he put the tip in. "so fuckin' tight, baby. fuuck-" he groans as he hits a few hard strokes, your back arching against him and fingers digging into Santiago's hips. "you hear that?" Frankie asks, moving himself deep into your hot core, letting you catch the lewd and wet noises your cunt made wrapped around him. "she's so wet for us, isn't she? poor pussy.." you pathetically whine, as Santiago pulls your head back by your hair, making you stare straight into his darkened eyes. "don't go shy on us now, doll." he laughs, delivering another sharp slap to your already heated cheek. "you wanted to be a little slut and we're gonna treat you like one, soㅡ" he tuts, thrusting into your throat before he continues, "so, really, you should thank us." Santiago pulls away, leaving your needy mouth wide open, as if asking for his shaft in a desperate plea. Frankie firmly places his rough palms onto your ass before taking his length out and you cry at the sudden lack of them inside of you. "Go ahead," he adds. "Thank us, baby, c'mon."

you lick your lips, feeling yourself dripping down onto the mattress under you, too cock drunk and embarrassed to say anything. Santiago sighs, giving your cheek a few light slaps as his other palm slides down to wrap around your throat. you gasp, the feeling so new yet it felt like something you'd been missing for so long. "i didn't take you as the ungrateful type, little angel." he coos, as Frankie reaches under to cup your breasts into his hands. "are you an ungrateful little whore?" taunting you. " 'm n-ot.." you gasp, the lack of blood flow to your brain keeping you on the edge. "you're sure acting like one." the one at the forefront proceeds, running the tip of his leaking length along your puffy lips. "and here we were..-" he stops to slap it onto your left cheek "ready to reward you, hm?" they look at each other and chuckle, as if they weren't mocking you and the pitiful mess you were. "please, I'm-" you swallow. "I'm sorry, please. Thank you so muchㅡ ! just- please, please..."

"you sweet thing." Santiago intoned "sweet filthy thing."

"I say we fuck her like she wants us to." Frankie hums from behind you, his cock rubbing against your leaking entrance. "that's what you want, right baby? want us both inside your little pussy. stretch her out and ruin you for others.." and you whimper as your cunt pulses around nothing. "Yeah, she likes that. dirty fucking girl." It was raw and intense— how their command over you ignited an unyielding desire to please them, to make them proud.

they both pull away, and in no time, your body is squished between theirs, strong arms holding you down as if you're to run away. Santiago harshly cups your face, forcing your mouth open; He gathers some spit into his mouth, for him to promptly spit it down onto your tongue. He watches proudly as you swallow it all, his thumb running across your bottom lip. Frankie was biting your shoulder, sucking at your sensitive skin as he held you by your throat in a way that's sure to leave marks.

"lift your hips for us." Santiago commands, and you do as you're told. He tangles his hand around in your hair as his other one reaches down to his cock, aligning it with your entrance. He eases in, making you throw your head back onto Frankie, his fingers now massaging your sensitive clit. "Fuckingㅡ look at her, swallowing me in one go. pretty girl.." he coos, pulling your head back by the hair to face him. From behind you, Frankie slowly lifts you up with his knees and slips inside of you, both men moaning into your ears. Tears slip past your eyes again and you cry from the pain and pleasure as your mouth falls open, unsure if you're still conscious or not. "feels good, baby? us splitting you open right here where anyone from the street can see... you like that?" Frankie was right, all it took was for a taller person to stare a bit over the fence and they'd have front row seats at this show.

" 'course she does. little whores like her get off to that. bet she'd let us fuck her in front of her dad. let him see the slut his daughter actually is." With that, Santiago finally starts to move, his eyes rolling back as Frankie pushes down onto your lower belly, as he moves his hips. "So fucking deep, shitㅡ feel that?" he laughs "want us to come this deep, huh? have you all filled up till you can't hold anything inside of you.."

"p-pleaseㅡ"

"i could fuck this tight cunt forever, god." the other in front of you grunts, the hand from your hair now focused on your nipples and one placed firmly onto your hips. Frankie had one hand on your stomach and one onto your face, two of his fingers stretching your mouth open. You let yourself be taken over by them. it felt like you were flying so high and intoxicated by them, you weren't sure how you'd recover.

"thank you, thank youㅡ" you babble incoherently.

Santiago quickened his pace, causing Frankie to do the same, and with a few more strokes, they both bury themselves deep inside your core, white warm ropes painting your velvety walls. The sudden warmth and full feeling sends you completely over the edge, having you shake and pulse around them as you reach your orgasm.

you all sit there, them deep inside of you, you between them, breathing heavily as they planted kisses upon your skin. After you came down, you realized what happened, and worse, that it was over, a thought which made you let out a pathetic sob and clench around them out of desperation. "easy girl, we still have two days left." Frankie breaks the silence. "It was you who said you wanted us to use you, no? you who wanted be our cum doll forever.." Santiago follows.

You're right where you want to be.

[quin-ns]

ok ok ok but what about fem!reader going missing with jb and sarah at the end of season one and coming back to find that jj has her name tattooed on his arm when he thought she was gone

okay I’m actually so obsessed with this I think it triggered something in my brain (the angst aNd fluff??) 😳 irl I won’t advocate for getting names tattooed but in fiction? To have a man that dedicated-

Permanent (JJ Maybank x Reader)

The last thing you expected was the run into your best friends in Charleston. It seemed like something out of a dream, but it was really them.

You couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for all of them. They must’ve thought you were dead the way the boat collapsed. Hell, you thought you were a goner until you, Sarah, and John B were rescued. Of course that didn’t turn out as good as it could’ve, but you were on your way home now and that’s what mattered.

You didn’t even get to speak, JJ was slamming into you with the biggest hug you’d ever received in your life. Your boyfriend held you tight, one arm locked around your waist, while the other cradled your head against him like you might slip away.

It had happened before.

Chaos of the reunion was all around you, but you were focused on just holding the love of your life.

You felt two more bodies collide into yourself, Kie and Pope’s voices overlapping as they joining in the hug after they reencountered John B and Sarah.

Tears of joy pricked in your eyes as you all finally parted.

John B stole JJ’s attention pretty quickly, pulling him into a hug. The sight made you smile, and it was the same when JJ and Sarah shared a hug while you got solo hugs from Kie then Pope. They hadn’t gotten that close, but it was safe to say you all missed each other.

When you all seperated, JJ turned back to you.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now,” he spoke first, sounding both awestruck and overwhelmed with joy.

JJ’s hands reached to grab yours, his gorgeous blue eyes stayed locked with yours. God, you missed those eyes.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and he joined you.

“What are you guys even doing here? I…” you didn’t know why you glanced down, but you did. Something on JJ’s left arm made you trail off.

In large, black ink, your name was scrawled across the inner side of his forearm.

Your jaw dropped and you looked up at him.

“I hate to interrupt, but we should go,” Pope urged.

You wouldn’t get to ask him about the tattoo until you got back to the Outer Banks. A lot of shit had gone down, not just on your, Sarah’s, and John B’s end, but back home too.

As you sat around the Chateau patio, you exchanged stories, all jumping in randomly over one another to add details or ask questions because so much had happened.

As you sat by JJ’s side on the couch—he was basically melded to your side. You couldn’t have been happier. Your hands were laced together, reminding one another that you were really here.

You kept getting distracted by his arm. It was your name in a tattoo. A permanent tattoo.

As it got later and later, your friends started to trickle inside to sleep. Eventually, it was just you and JJ.

“Do you like it?” he asked suddenly, interrupting as you recounted the way Sarah had snuck you all into a fancy hotel. Your eyes snapped up to his, realizing you’d been looking at the tattoo again. “I know you wanna ask.”

He didn’t seem offended or annoyed, there was actually a hint of a smirk on his face. He’d been wearing that look all day, and it was usually paired with murmurs of him saying how happy he was to have you back home.

“Did it hurt?” you wondered, avoiding the real question.

JJ laughed, but answered with, “Not really.”

“You got my name on your arm,” you stated bluntly. Not mad, just surprised. “Like, forever.”

The expression on his face got a little more serious. You saw his gaze fall briefly to his arm and he swallowed.

“I thought you were dead,” JJ recalled distantly. “And I thought… I didn’t know what I was gonna do without you guys—without you.”

You frowned at his confession, but didn’t speak yet. He was struggling to find the words, but you knew he had more to say. You hadn’t had a chance to talk about it yet.

“It was awful,” he continued grimly, eyes finding yours. You wished you could wipe the frown off of his face because it broke your heart. “Everyday was awful. And if I didn’t do something, I…” he shook his head. “It made me feel better. I got to have you with me everyday in some way.” JJ rubbed his arm, smiling sadly. “You know I always loved your name.”

You laughed tearfully at that, picking up on the lightheartedness in his tone, wiping your eyes. You didn’t even realize droplets had formed.

“That’s so sweet, JJ.”

“I love you,” JJ told you. “And I’m so fucking happy your back.” His smile turned more joyful. “And now I get to have you with me everyday for real.” He squeezed your hand. “Don’t even try to shake me, you’re not getting rid of me now.”

It was his turn to laugh, and you dramatically rolled your eyes at the deprecating humor. The hand that wasn’t holding JJ’s cupped the back of his neck. You pulled him into a loving, long overdue kiss.

When you parted, met his eyes again. You never wanted to look away.

“I love you, too,” you told him with a soft smile. “And I missed you every single day.”

“Same here,” JJ told you, a small smirk breaking out on his face. He held up his tattooed arm. “Clearly.”

You cut your own laugh off again as you pulled him back in for another kiss.

You were so happy to be home.

[allkindfangirl]

reader getting mad with rafe about the whole melting the cross thing bcus shes also friends with pope and breaking up with him and trying to make her jealous with sofia? (i love angst sm idk why)

pairing: rafe cameron x reader warnings: season 3 spoiler (kinda?), mention of alcohol, toxic behavior

You couldn't believe his words when Rafe told you about melting down the cross. You knew he was impulsive but you never thought he would do something so thoughtless. Devil and angel were already fighting inside of you, with him always working against your friends, but this was the last straw. He had thought it was a good idea, he thought once again he had done the right thing without really thinking about what he did.

He tried to understand you when you yelled at him about how the cross was important for Pope, that it meant something to his family but he didn't really care. It was this side of him that was ruthless and didn't care about people around him.

Though you were happy that he was clean now, his ruthlessness, the selfishness got even worse. He felt a new kind of power since his father couldn't dictate him anymore.

"I'm done with this shit Rafe." You were standing across from him on the veranda of Tanney hill.

"Shit? Our relationship?" He scoffed, tried to not let the anger well up in his body. He was pacing around in front of you, a grin on his lips. "Y/n, grow the fuck up. You can't keep running around with your friends, chasing stupid little adventures. This is real life." He was looking down at you, a feeling you hated.

"No Rafe.", you said through gritted teeth. "You need to grow up. This isn't real life. Stealing from people isn't real life. Just doing whatever you think is the best, isn't real life."

You didn't feel safe in his presence, even though he was standing meters away from you and even though you knew he would never actually hurt you. But still, his mood changes were unpredictable.

His hands run over his buzzed head, as he took a step towards you. He was looking at you with crazy eyes, sweat forming on his chest under the white shirt and on his forehead.

"Maybe then we're just not meant to be together if we're so different, y/n."

Though you felt your heart sinking with his words you tried to stiffen up. You shrug your shoulders. "I should've broken up with you a long time ago."

You flinched when he was suddenly standing right in front of you, his face almost touching yours, him raising his finger at you. "No, no.", he grinned. "You're not breaking up with me. I am breaking up with you.", he whispered, but still it send shivers down your back. You knew he was close to losing it completely.

"Whatever.", were your last words and you felt your body relax as soon as you left his house.

-

The next couple of weeks you did everything you could to not cross his ways. He didn't reach out to you and you didn't reach out to him. You figured this time it was really over. Though you tried to ignore him, it took you quite some time to not miss him everyday. You didn't think you would ever get over him, though you knew it was for the best. The two of you had been opposites from the beginning. You had been blind to see that you couldn't change him.

Toppers party was the first time you went out again. Since Sarah was hanging out with him again, she had asked you to come with her. You really didn't wanted to go. Too afraid to see Rafe again. Still, you could really use a drink and you were done with sitting in your room alone all night every night.

The music was blasting through the house, people drinking, smoking and doing coke everywhere. You always hated this side of Rafes friends and that he was a part of this.

Still, tonight you tried to forget all of it, the drink in your hand helping.

"Y/n.", you heard Topper behind you. You said your hello, then taking a couple of shots with him and Sarah in the big, crowded kitchen.

And then he walked in, wearing a lose shirt and shorts. He grinned as he saw his friends, then saw you standing beside Sarah and his smile disappeared for a second. The eye contact was heated. It felt like he was looking right inside your soul and for a moment it felt like your were the only ones in the room.

And then there she was. It took a second to realize that she was here with him. She slung his arm around his torso, smiling up at him, then greeting everyone in the group.

Rafe was still looking at you, a light smirk on his lips. Then he leaned down to her, to peck her lips with a kiss.

He wanted to hurt you and he knew this was the best way to do it. You had been the one he loved, he really thought and always hoped you would understand him. It turned out you didn't. He felt betrayed by you leaving him.

It worked. You hadn't felt a pain like this before. You knew Rafe had been with girls before you, but you never really wanted to think about him with someone else. The thought of him kissing another girl, giving his all to someone else just crushed you. His lips- they were supposed to be on yours, his body was suppose to do things to your body, not someone else's.

You grabbed Sarahs hand, then turned to her. "I- uhm- I should go.", you said, stumbling.

"Don't. We can just go outside. Please, don't let him ruin your night."

You gave her a light smile but shook your head. "No, it's fine really. I just want to go home.", you said. Then said a quick goodbye and rushed out of the kitchen, too afraid to burst out in tears in front of everyone.

As soon as you stepped outside the house you felt tears of anger running down your face. You knew, you had been the one who left him - still, you didn't think he would just move on and get with another girl like you didn't mean anything to him.

"You're already leaving?"

You froze, not able to move when you heard his voice behind you and his footsteps coming closer to you.

His touch on your hip send you over the edge. Tears on your face, your lips parted and your back still facing him.

"Don't touch me.", you whispered, but he didn't care. He just scoffed. You were still not able to move when he shove his hand up your shirt, feeling your warm skin on his skin. He pulled you close to his chest, his lips near your ear.

"I didn't think I would have such an effect on you."

You closed your eyes while trying to calm yourself down, but nothing could make the butterflies in your stomach go away. He had an effect on you. His touch always made you weak and he knew that. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

His grip on your hip tightened and with one push he swirled you around, so you would finally look at him.

He had a light grin on his lips. He knew he had you under his spell. His hand came up to your face to wipe away the tears on your cheek.

"Don't cry because of me.", he pointed out. Not to make you feel better but to show you what he did to you, that you were the weak one.

You melted under his touch. One of his hands was still laying on your cheek, the other one already back on your bare hip.

"You're mine.", you whispered but didn't dare looking him in the eyes. It tore you apart, showing him so much weakness, but the thought of him giving himself to somebody else just drove you crazy.

"Say it again. I didn't hear you." Rafes hand ran down your cheek to touch your chin. He made you look up to him, to look him in the eyes.

"Say it.", he whispered. His eyes were staring at your lips, waiting for those words, that just drove him wild, to escape from your lips.

"You're mine."

- really don't know if this is how you wanted it to go but I just got carried away. xx hope you still like it.

requests are open!

my masterlist

[obxone]

Everything

Edited-ish. ~2.5k words.

A broken sob fills the space as you rest your head on Kiara’s lap. Her fingers thread through your hair in soothing strokes. Your tears have dried on your cheeks now. The only sound coming from you are faint hiccups from how hard you have cried this afternoon.

Sarah frowns from her spot on the floor. Her sad brown eyes focus on you while her hand gently strokes your thigh. A heavy throw blanket is over your curled frame.

“What did you even see in him?” Kiara asks, her voice has a hateful edge to it. Rightfully so, after you called her in tears begging her to come home. She had shown up within minutes and had brought Sarah along too. Both of them had been concerned and are now venomous at your state. A hollow ache now fills you, and you wish it did not. He did not deserve another second of you.

You whisper, “Everything you didn’t.”

“Oh, Sweetheart.” Sarah frowns.

Her head jerks up when the remaining group stumbles into the room. Their laughter and conversation die between them as soon as all three pairs of eyes land on you.

“What happened?” JJ asks first, his face shifting from happy to concern in a millisecond. His eyebrows drawing together, blue eyes darkening with worry.

“Rafe broke up with her,” Kiara says, her gaze not leaving you.

“What the fuck?” JJ’s voice shows anger now. “Why?”

“Technically, I broke up with him,” you mumble and lift your head, ignoring the lines from Kiara’s shorts that are now imprinted on your face.

“What happened?” Pope asks, his shoulders dropping as he moves further into the room and takes a seat in the overstuffed chair opposite you.

JJ takes Kiara’s place after she tells you she is getting you water on her way to the kitchen. JJ smells warm and comforting, and you sink into his chest. Your eyes close, and you sigh, snuggling further into him.

“What happened?” He asks, his voice faint enough to give you some semblance of privacy.

You exhale, eyes shifting to the floor. “He was cheating on me.”

“I’m going to kill him,” John B spits out, not missing the conversation at all. Pope swears under his breath.

“She may have taken him down a few pegs already,” Sarah offers as her boyfriend takes a seat behind her.

“Did you?” JJ asks, tucking the blanket around your shoulders. A faint smile of pride tugs at his lips.

You nod, but Pope speaks before you can explain.

“Who with?” Pope leans forward, and you frown, looking at Kiara when she returns with a tall glass of cold water.

Your heart aches as the image and sounds flash through your head. “Another pogue.”

“I’m really going to kick his ass now,” JJ threatens.

John B stares at you, and you cannot take the burn of his gaze anymore, so you let your gaze shift to meet his. The concern is there, and you offer him a half smile.

“Did he hurt you?” He asks.

“Physically? No.”

He nods, looking down at the floor as his forearms rest on his knees.

“JB,” you lean over and ruffle his hair. “You’re a good guy.”

He smiles then, chin lifting to meet your gaze.

----

A week has passed, and you have pushed down the ache of your broken heart as you focus on day-to-day tasks. The local market bustles around you as you examine the fruit selection in your favorite vendor's booth. Mr. Walter grins at you as you select one of his personal favorites, strawberries.

“Picked yesterday,” he offers, and you flash a grin at him. “Mainland team got them on the last boat yesterday.”

“They are perfect,” you beam at him as you pass him a pint and then another. “I’ll take two.”

“Perfect, it’s BOGO. The second one is free.”

“Mr. Walter,” you chide, very aware that is not the case.

He waves you off before he starts to wrap the pints in cellophane to keep them protected on your bike ride back to the Chateau.

“Kildare’s best fruit vendor,” you compliment, and he winks at you before dropping them into your satchel with ease.

“Anything else?” He asks, looking over the selections with you. “I have a few seedless watermelons left.”

“One of those would be perfect. You are making my sister and our friends very happy.”

“I’ll get Alan to put it in your basket.”

“Thanks,” you grin and hand over a few bills. He takes them before passing back a five.

“I said BOGO.”

You roll your eyes and take the five back before moving down the aisle after a quick goodbye.

A few booths down, you spot a candle maker. A nice candle for your bath tonight sounds perfect. It would be a splurge, but a good one. You had the five dollar bill leftover from Mr. Walter’s booth along with a ten in cash still. Your cards are forgotten at home by mistake.

“Hey, Cheyenne!” You grin at the younger woman. Her eccentric nature is in full flourish today with her bohemian style dress.

“Hey!” She grins and leans over the table to give you a quick squeeze. “Are you getting a candle today?”

“I think so.”

She beams. “I have a new one. Want to smell it?”

“Yes, please.” You reach out for the candle as she spins the top of the jar off before offering it. You take it and bring it to your nose. A bright smile paints your lips as you take a deep inhale. “This is fabulous! Ooh, I’m in heaven.”

“Perfect! I thought you’d like it.” She smiles, taking it back and screwing the cap back on. “Should I wrap it up for you?”

“How much?”

“$20.”

“Oh,” you frown, before looking over the table. “My budget is $15. Do you have a smaller one?”

“Not in this scent, sold out already,” she frowns with you. “But I have plenty of the Summer Bliss that you like.”

“I’ll take that one.”

“She’ll take both,” Rafe’s voice comes from behind you, and you inhale sharply, body tightening at his voice before the heat of him pushes against your back. His arm extends over your shoulder to hand Chey a fifty. “The big ones.”

“Of course,” Chey smiles, oblivious to your reaction to his presence. As far as she knew you were both still together.

“That’s too much Rafe,” you start.

“Nonsense,” he murmurs, leaning against the tent pole. “Have you been through the market already?”

You nod. “This was my last stop.”

“Perfect,” he flashes a smile. “We’ll put your bike in the truck, and I’ll take you home.”

You start to shake your head but pause when you hear your name. You turn to see Alan moving through the crowd with a decent-sized watermelon in his arms.

“Where’s your bike?”

“Out by the parking lot. The pink one.”

“Great, rear basket okay to put it in?”

You nod a grateful smile on your face.

Rafe steps forward, his large body taking up the space between you and Alan. “I’ll take it. I’m taking her home.”

“Oh,” Alan murmurs. His green gaze flickering to you. “I didn’t know you guys had made up.”

“Well, we did,” Rafe mutters while taking the watermelon from Alan with ease. “Thanks, Alan.”

“Yeah, anytime,” he nods, and you frown, watching him go before you turn to Rafe. “Really?”

“He’s always had a thing for you.”

“Shouldn’t matter to you. We aren’t together.”

“Here you go!” Cheyenne’s cheery nature pops the tension bubble as she holds out a brown paper bag. You grasp it with a grateful smile in her direction. “Here’s your change.” She offers a ten back to Rafe.

“Keep it.”

“Oh,” she blushes, folding her fingers tightly around it. “Thanks.”

“Yep,” he responds while still staring at you. “Let’s go, Babe.”

You glare at him, but he ignores you and starts to steer you out of the mass of canopies for the different vendor's booths.

“We broke up, what do you think you are doing?”

He smirks, before tipping his head as he watches you. “We did not break up.”

“Yes, we did. I caught you cheating, Rafe.”

“She came onto me.”

“It takes two,” you mutter, getting to your bike as you drop the two bags into the front basket. You reach for the watermelon despite his protests. “Rafe…”

“It’s too heavy.”

“It’s not,” you argue and reach for it again, but he takes another step back. You groan loudly. “Fine! Keep it.”

You get on your bike, ignoring him as he tries to change your mind. You pedal away, ignoring his shouts of your name and pleas to come back. You ignore the sting of tears and the watchful gazes of both pogues and kooks alike.

----

You unloaded your items, tucking them away where they belonged. The house is silent with Kiara and the pogues out on the dock. You had promised them a quick lunch once you had everything put away.

Footsteps on the porch echo out as you open the bread bag after rinsing some of the fruit off.

“I’m just starting,” you say without looking up.

“I brought your watermelon.”

Your head snaps up as Rafe enters the house. The screen door slammed behind him as he stands there holding your watermelon. He looks so out of place in the living room. His pressed collared polo and oxford shorts are a stark contrast compared to the old paneled wooden walls and dusty outdated furniture.

“Kiara will be happy until she sees you are the one bringing it.”

He crosses the room silently before placing it on the counter. “Can we talk?”

“I have to get them fed. They won’t eat if I don’t.”

He frowns, reaching for you, but you move your hand away from his. The knife gripped tightly in your hand.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I want to talk.”

“No.”

He sighs, hand running through his hair. “Please.”

You stare at him, knife paused over slicing the sandwiches in half. He shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“What do you want to talk about?” You ask, turning your eyes back to your work. “Want me to hear all your practiced excuses.”

He frowns before shaking his head once. “No. I fucked up. I know I did. But she kissed me first. I did not pursue her.”

“No,” you huff, plating the sandwiches before rolling the melon onto your cutting board. “You just fucked her.”

He groans, before trying to reach for you again.

“Rafe, don’t!” You point the knife at him in a warning. “I scream, and they’ll come running, so don’t.”

He groans loudly and turns, pacing away. “I fucked up, okay! Yes, I fucked her, but it did not mean anything, okay?!”

You stare at him before shaking your head and going back to cutting. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“What do you want me to say? I’m admitting my fault.”

“You’re admitting you threw away our relationship for a meaningless fuck,” you clarify as you slice the half melon into quarters. “It meant nothing doesn’t help your case.” You start to work on cutting away the rind.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Leave.”

“No.”

You sigh and lift your head to meet his gaze. “Why not?”

“Because I can’t be without you.”

“You have to.”

“No.”

You groan with a shake of your head as you start to slice again. A sharp pain rips through your hand a moment later, and you gasp, jerking your left hand back to see a deep cut running across your index, pointer, and ring finger. Watery blood runs down your palm, and you wince immediately turning for the sink.

He is there, his body warm as he presses against you to help. His arms around you as he turns the water on.

“Rafe, I’ve got it.” You mutter.

“Just let me take a look.”

You huff but let him rinse the tips of your fingers before pulling your hand closer to his chest. His dark blue eyes focus on your fingers as he inspects the cuts. They were not deep but still pooled with blood.

“Does this place have a first aid kit?”

“Bathroom sink.”

“Here,” he folds a kitchen towel around your fingers. “Hold pressure.”

You watch him go before he is back with the red plastic case. He places it on the counter before turning to lift you with ease to be sitting next to it. You stare at him as his eyebrows knit together in concentration once he has the kit open. You stay silent, watching him work until the last bandage is on your finger.

“What do you want from me?” You whisper, his body still nestled between your knees.

“To be with me, to be my girl again.”

“I can’t do that anymore,” you lift your head to look at him. “I can’t be the girl who was hopelessly devoted to you again. You broke my heart.”

Rafe frowns, his hands plant on the counter on either side of your hips. His face inches from yours.

“The best I can be is your friend.”

“Friends then,” he agrees, retracting as he steps back. “Friends.”

The creak of the screen door has you both looking to see the pogues stepping inside. A shared confused look between them all aside from your sister, who is angry.

“He’s leaving. He brought the watermelon I forgot,” you offer and slip down to the ground. You push Rafe back to create distance. “You should go,” you say to him so only he hears.

He nods, squeezing your good hand before going without another word. You watch him go before turning back to the five pogues.

“Food is almost ready. I’ll finish prepping the food if someone wants to get drinks.”

“Got it,” Sarah moves forward, and you smile at her gratefully. The tension is thick, but no one says a word.

“What happened?” Kiara asks, pointing to the first aid kit. “Did he hurt you?”

“I cut myself slicing the watermelon,” you explain with a frown as you lift your bandaged fingers. “JJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you finish slicing it, please?”

“Sure!” He darts forward, shouldering past your sister to take over. Kie continues to watch you, reading you as you plate the food before taking everything to the kitchen table.

“Lunch is served,” you say, gesturing to the various plates. “John B?”

“Hmm?” He jerks his head to look at you now.

“Paper plates?”

“Pantry,” he goes to the little door and opens it before digging around and coming back with a small stack.

“Kie, eat,” you gesture, and she rolls her eyes but takes a plate and begins to grab her lunch. You squeeze her arm. “I’m fine, promise. He asked to get back together, and I said no.”

She nods, offering you a sympathetic smile before you peck her cheek.

“Relax, I’m the older one remember?”

She laughs and squeezes you in a tight hug before taking her plate and water outside. The others follow in her steps, and you are last as you let the screen door slam behind you. A sunny picnic lunch is just the ticket for you all.   

[cherienymphe]

When The Party’s Over XVII (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, mentions of DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, forced pregnancy, mentions of abortion, forbidden relationship, violence, jealousy, stalking, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, corruption, public sex, innocent reader, Heyward!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @silkholland​​

➥ series masterlist

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

~

The tension between you and Pope was thick, and it had been for weeks. You knew there was no anger there, only disappointment and confusion. You still recalled the look on his face when you told him that you wouldn’t be pressing charges. He had sighed, angrily, and you hated being the cause of that look on his face.

“You know Rafe is right,” you had murmured, and Pope swallowed. “Leave it to me to get roped in with a guy who has the influence to do practically anything he wants.”

Pope had remained quiet, but it was obvious that he wasn’t happy with your decision, even if he understood why. You didn’t tell him about what had happened that night when you returned home, Rafe’s assault also contributing to your decision. If you were being completely honest with yourself, Rafe terrified you, and far too much to ever get the courage to even try and press charges. You knew you wouldn’t succeed, but you felt like a traitor to yourself to not even try.

You’d woken up that next morning alone and feeling oh so sore. Rafe was gone, no doubt leaving the same way he came, and you’d been too in shock to even think about telling someone. Your body had been on autopilot as you made your way to the bathroom, finally getting that much needed shower. You’d scrubbed your skin until it was practically raw, and even then, you still didn’t feel clean enough. You could still feel him on you.

It was only when you were sitting on your bed in a towel did the thought occur to you to tell Pope or even wake up Kie. You’d decided against it, vowing to keep your window locked forever from now on, and cross that bridge when you get there should you find yourself in the position again. It had taken you too long to get dressed, and when you finally did, it was like Pope had sensed it because he was knocking on your door.

You had a feeling as to what he wanted, and you resigned yourself to this conversation when he sat down on your bed with a sigh.

“You know I have to ask,” he’d quietly said, staring at the wall.

You took a deep breath, sitting down beside him.

“I was coming from a party one night,” you softly started. “Cam and Bunny were too drunk to drive two blocks, let alone all the way here to drop me off.”

You licked your lips, remembering how awed and thankful you’d been that night.

“I was going to miss curfew and get in so much trouble when…Rafe saw me and offered me a ride home.”

You looked at Pope, and you could see him tying to wrack his brain, trying to calculate when your life started becoming so entwined with Rafe’s and how he hadn’t noticed.

“Do you remember the day we were at Sarah’s and I told you to go ahead because my friends were going to take me home?”

Pope looked at you at that, and his eyes told you that he already knew what you were going to say.

“They didn’t. Rafe had offered to take me when I went upstairs to use the bathroom, and considering he’d done it before, I said okay,” you sighed. “That was only the second time we were in contact with each other like that, and it just started happening more and more.”

You watched Pope drop his head into his hands, clearly trying to process what had been going on right under his nose and for how long.

“My friends ran into his friends at the country club one day, and next thing I know, we’re all hanging out together. Bunny likes Topper, and Kelce and Cam become this official thing, and Rafe… Rafe was treating me like gold.”

You let out a bitter chuckle.

“Things between us happened so fast, I mean…”

You contemplated revealing it was you that he and his friends had heard that night. It was such an awkward conversation to have, and you’d decided against it when Pope put the pieces together himself.

“Wait, wait. Hold on,” he humorlessly chuckled. “Were you with him that night we were over? That night? The one Sarah was talking about?”

His dark eyes were hard as he looked at you, and with your silence being an answer enough, Pope scoffed, shaking his head in disgust.

“It was my idea to keep it a secret,” you confessed. “I wanted to tell you when I was ready because I was so happy then, and I didn’t want to spoil it. He was so good to me.”

You frowned.

“I really thought that he’d changed, and I could show you that, and we’d eventually move past all the uncomfortableness, but then he showed his true colors, and by the time I realized it, it was too late.”

Pope had been silent, taking in everything you were telling him.

“I thought I could just break up with him and put this behind me. I thought this would just be an unfortunate chapter in my life that you’d never have to know about,” you murmured, shaking your head. “If I knew that all of this would come from that night…”

You bit your lip, tears kissing your eyes as you thought over everything Rafe had put you through.

“I would’ve just walked home,” you tearfully breathed. “I would’ve just gone home and accepted my punishment in stride.”

“Hey,” Pope had whispered, wrapping his arm around you. “You just didn’t want to get in trouble. Of course, you’d take a ride from Rafe over being grounded.”

His words hadn’t made you feel better.

“You’re not to blame just because you’re eighteen and wanted to go to a party with your friends, and you’re not to blame for thinking Rafe actually changed. Especially when he was going out of his way to make you think he had.”

It had felt good to finally talk to Pope about this, but that good feeling hadn’t lasted long when he’d practically been begging you to press charges. You could tell that your refusal to do so worried him more than anything, but as weeks went by with no sign of Rafe, you entertained the thought that maybe you wouldn’t ever have to bring it up again.

The first week or so after that night he’d snuck into your room, you’d been more than paranoid. Checking your window repeatedly before bed, even waking up in the dead of night sometimes with a start, fearful that he was standing over you. After the second week and not even a word from him, you’d wondered if maybe your prayers were being answered.

You got a new phone, and even though Rafe could’ve easily gotten your new number from Cam or Bunny, you hadn’t gotten a single text or call from that familiar number. It was odd, to be honest. It was such a contrast to go from Rafe practically breathing down your neck to not hearing a single thing from him. Had he…finally given up?

It seemed impossible, too much wishful thinking, but you didn’t know what else to think. His last words hadn’t assured you he’d be leaving you alone, and for a moment, you almost thought that he was biding his time. For what, you didn’t know. His reaction to your abortion had your mind going to a place you didn’t even want to entertain, and that was how you found yourself getting new birth control pills.

They weren’t 100% effective, no, but considering you’d managed to get pregnant with the last ones, you decided to try a different kind altogether. You didn’t need a repeat of that fateful day where you’d been staring at several pregnancy tests with a forlorn look. Although, if things kept looking up, you’d have no possibility of becoming pregnant, anyway.

The longer you went with no sign of Rafe, the more you felt yourself starting to slowly relax.

“He’s been talking with our dad a lot,” you heard Sarah say. “About what? I don’t know.”

You were at John B.’s, or The Chateau as they liked the call it. Pope hadn’t been letting you out of his sight much, and you found that you didn’t mind. You knew he was just worried and scared and paranoid, and he honestly had every reason to be. It’d been weeks since you’d heard from Rafe, and while you weren’t completely delusional enough to think he was out of your life for good, you didn’t know how to tackle this silence.

He wasn’t hurting you or harassing you, and so, you took the opportunity to at least try and move on. You didn’t hang out with Cam and Bunny much for obvious reasons, and they were under the impression that you just weren’t feeling too good. Sometimes they did come by, but that was when you were actually home. These days, you found yourself around Pope’s friends a lot.

You were inside, just alone with your thoughts, and their voices carried from outside.

“It’s like he’s pretending that nothing happened, you know?”

You heard Sarah scoff.

“God, I can barely look at him without wanting to throw up,” she murmured.

You knew that feeling was from more than just what Pope knew. You had made both her and Kie promise not to say anything about what you’d told them. You knew they wouldn’t anyway, seeing as it wasn’t their place, but you needed to be sure because if Pope ever found out that Rafe had violated you in perhaps the worst way possible, you shuddered to think of what would come from it.

“How’s she doing?” you heard JJ wonder, lowering his voice, but it was so quiet out here that it carried anyway.

“I don’t know,” Pope sighed. “She hasn’t said much about it lately, but I think Rafe staying away is doing her some good.”

You heard him bitterly scoff.

“Then again, who am I to tell? She was sneaking around with Rafe for months, dealing with that asshole’s abuse for months, and I didn’t even know,” he said. “For all I know, she could be having the worst time of her life.”

You wanted to tell Pope that he was wrong.

Rafe staying away was doing you some good. There was still the thought in the back of your mind that he was going to pop up and snatch you away or something, but you finally had weeks to yourself to just think and process everything. You also wanted to tell Pope not to be too hard on himself. There was no way for him to ever guess that you and Rafe were involved.

Even Sarah had wrongly accused you of seeing Topper.

“Every time I think about how that asshole just…roped her into his bullshit, I get so mad,” Pope spat. “She’s really trusting, you know? Always has been, and he just…took advantage of that.”

Pope wasn’t wrong.

You’d always been the type to give people the benefit of the doubt or choosing to see the best in them. Even after Rafe had choked you out that night, your only focus had been on the non-deliberateness of it all. You hadn’t focused on the fact that Rafe shouldn’t have been high in the first place or that he should’ve been more careful with you. Only that it had been an accident.

…and taken advantage of you he had.

You’d had weeks to really just stew over your relationship, and you thought about Kie. You thought about if Kie had been drunk and Pope ignored her protests to slow down or stop and proceeded to have sex with her anyway, you’d kill him. You’d be so disgusted with him, and yet, it had taken you months to feel disgusted with Rafe over that night.

Looking back, it had been doomed from the start. You remembered how grateful you’d felt that Rafe had taken you home, let you shower, and proceeded to look after you while you sobered up. It hadn’t occurred to you then just how drunk you were, and Rafe… Well, he hadn’t hurt you. In fact, he’d been gentle with you, but it didn’t change the sinister intent behind his actions.

Why did it take you so long to realize it?

Maybe Pope was wrong.

Maybe you weren’t too trusting…but instead just stupid.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself to your feet, pausing and blinking at how lightheaded you felt. After that night, you’d mostly been staying away from alcohol, however, right now, you desperately needed a sip of something. You’d come to learn that John B. always kept some beer around. How he managed to do that while being under twenty-one? You had no clue, but you were thankful, nonetheless.

However, before you could even open the beer, preparing to hear Pope scold you, the room spun again. You put your hand out, pressing it against the fridge to steady yourself, and you furiously blinked. There was that lightheaded feeling again, and you could feel your body growing both weak and heavy all at once. The last thing you registered before you descended into darkness was the sound of the beer in your hand hitting the floor.

For a moment, it felt like you had merely blinked.

Standing in John B.’s house one moment…and laying down in a bed the next.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been in a hospital, an official one anyway. It felt like only seconds ago you’d been at The Chateau, but as you looked around, there was no denying where you were. You were in a hospital, and you couldn’t even begin to sort through your confusion. With a hand pressed to your head, you remembered feeling lightheaded, and you surmised that you’d fainted.

Luckily for you, you weren’t in the dark for long.

The doctor that came in was a friendly looking woman, and while there was something off about her smile, you did reluctantly return it.

“I’m relieved to see those eyes so clear and alert,” she teased, warning you before shining a light in them. “You gave your brother and his friends quite the scare.”

So, you had fainted.

“I did?”

She nodded with a hum, writing something down.

“They said you were unconscious when they found you,” she told you, checking your blood pressure and heartrate. “Luckily, it’s nothing to be too concerned about.”

Her choice of words had you frowning, and she noticed. You watched her hesitate for a moment, glancing at the folder in her hand before throwing you another smile.

“We just need to check a few more things, and then…you’ll be free to go…”

“Okay…”

Your tone was off, curiosity getting the better of you as you got the sense there was something she wasn’t saying. You watched her seem to hesitate, opening and closing her mouth before sitting on the edge of your bed, smile tight.

“Your brother was very concerned about what might be wrong with you, but…considering you’re eighteen, it’s not something I can discuss with anyone but you.”

That both relieved and worried you, and your brows drew together, waiting for the shoe to drop.

“Did you know you were pregnant?”

Bunny’s words went in one ear and out the other. It had taken way too much convincing to let Pope let you hang out with Cam and Bunny today. After your fainting spell at The Chateau, he was even more worried than usual, damn near afraid to let you out of his sight. He had good reason, you supposed, even if he didn’t know it.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant…again.

Considering a hospital pregnancy test was way more accurate than an at-home one, you believed the doctor when she told you that you were about four weeks along. You believed her even before she showed you the results because four weeks put you at about that night…or the night before. Which meant you’d been pregnant before you’d even started your new birth control.

“Thankfully there’s no increase of harm to it, so you don’t have to be concerned about birth defects or an early birth, but for obvious reasons, you will need to stop taking it,” she’d told you.

You really didn’t understand how you’d managed to get pregnant again, and in such a short amount of time too. It was like your old birth control hadn’t worked at all, and such a thought forced you to consider other forces at work that you didn’t even want to entertain. Rafe was a lot of things…but he wouldn’t…he couldn’t…

…and yet…

You closed your eyes, accepting that what you’d thought was a very light period was just freaking spotting. You found yourself in the same position as before, and if you went to Pope like last time, well…then you’d have to confess about what Rafe did, and you dragged your hands down your face.

Your only other options were to go to Sarah or Kie, or your own friends. If you were right about your suspicions, and Rafe had done this on purpose via his own words that night, then you really couldn’t chance him knowing. On the other hand, you didn’t know how Kie would feel about going behind Pope’s back like that and helping you out with this.

It wasn’t like you two were besties or anything, Kie being Pope’s girlfriend and friend before yours. The same went for Sarah, but she had less obligation to Pope than Kie, and she was looking like your best bet. You reminded yourself that you didn’t have to stress so much over it, right now. You were only about a month along, and with that thought, you told Bunny you weren’t feeling the best.

She was sad to take you home but did so anyway at your request.

“You’ve been under the weather a lot, lately,” she commented on the way to your house.

“Yeah,” you lightly said. “I keep trying to force myself to feel better when I’m actually not. I think my body is telling me to take it easy for a while.”

She chuckled, clearly under the impression you were referring to the partying and drinking you’d been doing for months. When she pulled into your yard, there was a car in the driveway that you didn’t immediately recognize. It definitely struck you as familiar for some reason, but you just couldn’t place it.

“Did your brother get himself a car?” Bunny wondered, and you hummed.

“I have no idea, but…I don’t think so.”

You waved her goodbye, curiously eyeing the vehicle as you made your way inside. As soon as you shut the door, you heard your mom call your name from the living room. As you started to make your way there, Pope rounded from the kitchen, eyes stricken and face pinched. He looked…panicked and scared and worried all in one. You frowned at him as he intercepted you.

“Leave,” he breathed. “Now.”

Your frown deepened, and you reared back a bit.

“What?” you quietly wondered. “What are you…?”

Your words died as your mom called your name again, and something about her tone worried you. You looked towards the living room just as your dad came to stand in the entrance. He didn’t look happy in the slightest, and his dark eyes cut to your brother, giving him a stern look.

“Pope, we need to talk to Y/N. Now.”

You watched Pope press his lips together, shoulders sagging in defeat as he failed to protect you from whatever was about to happen. With a helpless and terrified look thrown your way, he reluctantly stepped out of the way, listening to your dad.

“Pop’s-.”

Your dad made a noise that had Pope biting his tongue, and you didn’t miss the way the older man stared at you as you made your way to the living room. You froze at the entrance, faintly noting your dad brushing by you to sit by your mom on the couch. Your eyes were focused on the last pair you ever expected to see.

Ward and Rafe Cameron stared back at you as you struggled to move.

You blinked, lips parting as you finally realized why the car in the yard was so familiar. You’d seen it in passing so many times when you snuck into the Cameron’s house, and your mind whirled, unable too place why they were here. You looked between them and your parents, a shudder passing through you when your gaze met Rafe’s again.

His expression was even enough, but you knew him well enough to place that faint glint in his eyes.

That small glimmer of smugness.

“What’s…what’s going on…?”

You finally broke the silence.

Your father let out a heavy sigh, and you watched your mother take his hand. You looked towards Ward, never caring much for the man, and you took in the sympathetic smile on his face. You were so confused, and the longer the silence stretched, the more worried you grew.

“We know.”

Your mom’s words meant nothing to you as that could’ve applied to a myriad of things.

“We know about…”

She paused, taking a deep breath.

“…the baby.”

The only sound was that of your purse slipping from your fingers and falling to the floor. You stared at her in shock, a deep frown on your face as you processed what she’d said. No. There was no way. You yourself had only found out two days ago, and you hadn’t told a soul. So, how on earth could they know?

With that thought, your heart skipped a beat, and your gaze snapped to Rafe’s.

The blond was quiet, but the look on his face spoke volumes.

“Rafe has told us how scared you are…”

You could barely acknowledge her words as you and Rafe stared at each other.

“…and I know…I know this has to be terrifying for you, but Rafe, well… Rafe and his father decided to come to us face to face and make it clear that they want to do right by you.”

At that, your head snapped towards her, and you blinked back tears. The disappointment on your parents’ faces was clear as day, and you could see that your dad was much more upset about this than your mom. However, beyond all that though, you could see a tiny smidgen of hope in her eyes at the possible future where she had a grandchild.

Just how long had Rafe and Ward been here…and what the hell had they told them?

You heard Ward clear his throat, and you stumbled back, leaning against the wall, tongue pressed to your back teeth.

“Obviously, the way they went about things is not ideal…”

Your dad grumbled at that.

“…but Rafe made his intentions very clear to me. He does want this baby, and he does want to try and do things the right way.”

What did that even mean?

“My family will provide everything Y/N needs. Medical bills, doctor visits, all the prenatal care she’ll need…”

You shook your head, in disbelief that this was a real conversation. You could feel your stomach churning the more Ward talked, and you lifted your gaze, eyes meeting familiar blue ones again. Rafe was leaned back in the couch, head tilted just a tad, and the way the corner of his lips curved upwards into the faintest smirk had your eyes falling closed.

“…and, of course, well…” Ward paused. “We are a fairly traditional family, and Rafe does care about Y/N. Right, son…?”

“I love her.”

Your eyes flung open at that, looking right at him as your stomach twisted painfully. He wasn’t looking at your parents, but instead at you, and you trembled under his intense gaze.

“…and truthfully, I don’t feel right about bringing a child into this world with her without making her my wife.”

You jerked, and you pressed your hand to your mouth.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mumbled, finally speaking up.

Your mom started to get up when you rushed out of the room, but Rafe beat her to it, playing the part of the dutiful unwed father perfectly. He rushed into the bathroom with you before you could keep him out, and you were too worried about making it into the toilet to push him away when his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. More tears spilled over as you threw up again, and you knew that this had nothing to do with morning sickness.

You were violently ill with the realization of just how low Rafe would sink.

You felt his lips at your ear, hand coming up to play with your hair.

“I won’t make the same mistake twice,” he quietly purred in your ear, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “…I intend to keep what’s mine.”

His hand danced towards the back of your neck, and he leaned in to press his lips to the side of your head.

“One way or another.”

[deltaharrington]

NOT CRAZY PT 1.

PAIRING: Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship, mental health, possessiveness.

SUMMARY: You follow Rafe and Barry to Kiara and JJ, allowing you to witness just how fucked up your boyfriend is.

PART 2

“Why do you have to go? I thought we were spending time together today” You asked your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his torso.

You were currently cuddled up to the blonde kook on the patio of Tannyhill. You two were supposed to spend the day shopping, but his plans had changed with one phone call.

“I’m sorry, babe” Rafe said and sighed “I’ll be back later, I promise” He said and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

He was doing this so you wouldn’t follow him.

He knew you better than you knew yourself and he couldn’t risk losing you. He had put on a caring boyfriend facade and he didn’t want to break that.

Rafe had been obsessed with you ever since he first saw you at a bonfire. He couldn’t get you out of his head.

He didn’t know how to approach you, and it took a while for him to interact. Once he did, you fell for him almost instantly.

He knew what you liked in a guy.

Soon, he became your boyfriend and you made him happy. He had his moments, but he tried to remain sane around you.

He didn’t want to scare you off.

Your lips moved against Rafe’s and he almost went further, but he remembered what he had to do.

He needed to find JJ and Kiara.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” He asked and you nodded your head.

You followed him out and waved as he rode away on his bike.

You hopped in your car and had a bad feeling, with Rafe leaving so quick.

You were going to follow him.

Upon following Rafe, you arrived at a boat storage area. You were so confused. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw Kiara and JJ.

Rafe hated the Pogues, right?

Rafe hates the Pogues.

Then you spotted Barry. You knew Rafe used to have a drug problem. Well that’s what he told you.

You knew this was bad.

You parked your car a ways away from the storage facility. You then got out and went in the side door, watching from behind a shelf.

“Hey there” You heard Rafe’s voice, directed towards JJ and Kie. Pope was there too. You hadn’t seen him before.

“JJ” Rafe spoke “How you guys doing?” He mocked as Barry came out from behind the 4-wheeler.

Barry then pulled a gun on JJ. You gasped and the only person who heard was JJ.

He looked at you with a mixture of worry and confusion. You shouldn’t have been there?

JJ had been your server nearly every time you went to the Country Club and you had grown a soft spot for the blonde Pogue.

He had grown one for you too, and he hated Kooks. Especially Rafe. He didn’t take the news of you two dating very well.

JJ tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen. He tried to tell you that Rafe had killed Peterkin. Rafe’s show he put on was too convincing.

Anyways, the blonde looked back to Barry.

“Don’t think I forgot about you and me on the side of the road” Barry taunted and JJ eyed the barrel of the gun. “I’m here to get my fucking money!” He screamed and you jumped.

Kie tried to run towards JJ but Rafe grabbed onto her. She slapped him and began berating him about murdering Peterkin. That’s when you came out.

“Rafe? What are you doing!” You called out just as a scuffle started. Rafe began to choke Kie and at the sound of your voice he froze.

Rafe looked horrified, his heart raced in his chest.

“Baby, this isn’t what this looks like” He tried to say but Pope hit him on his back twice, knocking him over.

That’s when you realized Rafe really had killed Peterkin. He was angry that the Pogues kept blaming him, so he brought Barry to get revenge.

Barry had finally spotted you as he was beating JJ to the ground. He grabbed you and held the gun to your head, pulling you away from JJ.

“JJ!” You called out, nearly begging him to help. Your eyes welled with tears as the barrel was pressed firmly against your head.

“Barry, I’ll get you your money, just let her go” JJ said “She’s Rafe’s girl” He said and cringed at the sound of that.

Barry hesitated and that’s when JJ charged at him, hustling the gun away from him and kicking it towards Kie.

He was on his feet in an instant, kicking Barry in the stomach while blocking you from anything he might try.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing here?” He asked when he got the chance.

You weren’t paying attention, you were focused on Pope beating the fuck out of your boyfriend.

“Pope! Stop!” You called but he didn’t listen, beginning to choke your bloodied boyfriend.

JJ jumped in and pulled Pope away, leaving Rafe on the ground and you standing in shock.

“Rafe” You said and rushed to him. Before you could offer him aid, he grabbed your wrists, sitting up.

“Why the fuck, are you here?!” He yelled, anger in his eyes. You had never seen this side of him.

“Why am I here? Rafe, why are you-“ You were cut off.

“Shut up!” He yelled and shoved you backwards. JJ saw this and he rushed to your side.

“Don’t you ever touch her like that again? You hear me?” JJ said and got you up, dragging you with him the the other Pogues.

Pope and Kie didn’t understand why JJ was helping you, but they would soon find out.

TO BE CONTINUED…

[echobx]

the one with the letter - jj maybank × ex!fem!reader

summary: you have to figure out if your love for JJ is stronger than what the world throws at you

warnings: Luke..., hurt/comfort, angsty, happy ending

word count: 2k

author's note: part 3 bc I had to. it didn't feel right to let you guys hanging. and no matter how much I try to write a JJ fic that doesn't have a happy ending, it just doesn't work. he always finds a way. he's one persistent bbg.

part 1 | part 2

The two days that you are supposed to stay in bed and focus on getting better feel like a month to you. Going back to school feels even worse. Everyone seems to have their eyes pinned on you, to the point where you find yourself hiding in the photo lab to avoid everyone and everything for just the half hour that is your lunchtime. But yet again you aren't granted the simplicity of loneliness when you need it most.

“Jesus, y/n!” Pope jumps and nearly drops his camera in the process. “What are you doing here?” “Hiding,” you reply, looking up at him and his sad smile. “Why?” “Because everyone hates me. I get it. I'd hate myself too,” you whisper, and he crouches down by your side. “I don't hate you,” he shakes his head, and you close your eyes to focus. He should hate you. You keep on hurting his best friend. He should definitely hate you. He places the camera on the floor next to him before sighing. “Love's messy.” “No, that's just me,” you say, picking at your nails. “I'm the problem.” “You're allowed to feel sad or hurt or anything,” he whispers and takes your hand in his. “I'm glad you're better. JJ was losing his mind when your mom kicked him out. And he's not much better now either. Refused to come to school because you didn't reply to his letter.” Your head perks up, and you furrow your brows, blinking a few times. “Letter?” “Yeah, the letter he left you at the hospital,” Pope explains, but your confused expression lets it dawn on him that you had never known about a letter. “There's no letter. I don't have a letter,” you insist, and he runs his hand over his face. “Shit,” he hisses silently, and you stand up, heart pounding when you reach for your bag and pull it over your shoulder. “I have to go,” you mumble, and even though he tries to stop you, you won't let him.

You curse your mom on the whole way down to the Cut, and it's a long way, but you don't stop. You can't. When you arrive at the Shack, you can hear them screaming, it's not unlike what you had witnessed before. But this time you don't stop and wait for it to die down a little before walking in. “You're an ungrateful bastard!” Luke yells, but as soon as he sees you, he stops and a mean smile plays on his face. “Haven't seen that one in a while. Why are you here? He knock you up?” Luke taunts and you swallow hard. “Don't talk about her like that,” JJ snaps at him, taking a step closer to his dad. His fists are balled and the knuckles bruised. “She's a bitch just like her mama,” Luke spits and JJ lunges forward, but he's pushed back instantly. You try to focus on your breathing to not lose yourself in the pain that is flooding your body as you watch him get hurt.

“Let go!” you scream from the top of your lungs, and for some reason they stop to look at you. One step forward as you glare at Luke, and he drops JJ to the floor, a shallow thump tells you that his head hit the wood not so softly. But you can't drag your eyes off Luke, if you do, he wins. “You don't get to tell me what to do in my own house, Missy,” he glares, but you take another step closer, your eye twitching. “I'm not afraid of you,” you hiss, and he scoffs, but you don't give him enough time to come up with a comment. “You're nothing but a drunk, child beating asshole. You don't deserve him. And it's baffling to me how someone like you was capable of fucking up so massively, but he still turned out better than anyone I've ever met. And I know I don't deserve him either, but at least I don't make him feel like shit just for being born.” Luke swallows, looking down at JJ. “If she's not gone by the time I get back, you can look for a new home, boy.”

It feels like a million tons are lifted off your chest when you hear the screen door hit against the wood and the engine of his truck start and drive off. “You shouldn't have done that,” JJ shakes his head as you turn to him. He has a cut on his lip and his right eye is starting to slowly swell up. “You're hurt,” you whisper and reach up to touch his cheek, but he turns away. “Why are you here? Wanna rip my heart out a third time?” There's resentment in his voice, but you get stuck on his counting. What was the second time? “I came to ask something. Something important,” you whisper, but it has escaped your mind. The condition he is in feels worse to you than before. It's like a repetitive gut punch paired with slaps to your face, but your pain wasn't physical, it was all in your head. “Can I please take care of you?” you beg, and he swallows but nods.

The bathroom is a mess, just like the whole house, but you don't care, you never did. It makes sense to you. It was one of the reasons why JJ had always felt more at home at your home than his own. It was the reason, why you rather stayed at the Château together than at his or at yours, where you'd always run the risk of your mom kicking him out. You clean his cuts and softly press the cold, wet washcloth to his eye. Although you haven't patched him up in months, it feels like no time has passed since the last time. “Thank you,” JJ whispers and takes the washcloth from your hand to hold onto it by himself. “Why did you say I was going to break your heart a third time?” you ask tentatively, sitting down on the closed toilet opposite of him, while his hand clasps around the edge of the tub he's sitting on. “I didn't wanna make you feel worse about it. It wasn't my choice to make. And it was too late already, so it didn't matter. But it hurt, it still hurts,” he mumbles without looking at you. “I keep having this nightmare- it's not really a nightmare, I guess. But when I wake up, I feel worse, and I wish the dream was real instead of my actual life.” “What happens in your dream?” you whisper. “You never leave me, we- we have the kid, and it's not easy, but it's happy. It feels warm and it doesn't hurt. And then I wake up, and it's just painful. It hurts so much, y/n.” “I'm sorry,” you apologize, but you know it's not enough. You know it won't undo all the pain you caused him. “And now you're here to tell me what? That I need to move on? Find someone better?” JJ's eyes find yours, and it feels like getting stabbed while someone keeps twisting the knife.

“Pope said you wrote me a letter,” you start, and he rolls his eyes. “So you talk to him but not me?” “JJ, listen to me,” you grab his face with both of your hands, forcing him to look at you. “I never got it. I was alone, and she said she told you to leave, and then you didn't text me. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me after that night, that's why I didn't text you either. But I don't know about any letter. I mean, I didn't even know it existed before Pope found me in the photo lab and told me, and then I ran here immediately. I'm sorry.” You take a deep breath, and he searches your face, and for once you're not even lying to yourself anymore. “I was scared is all, that's why I wrote it,” he shrugs his shoulders, and you drop your hands down to your thighs. “What did it say?” “That I wish I could turn back time and make you feel more loved than I did. That I hate seeing you smile at that jerk. That I- That I don't want to ever lose you again. You scared me so much, and I don't know why you ran after him, and then you fell, and I wasn't fast enough, I couldn't stop your fall. And I felt like I lost you for good, forever, and John B drove like a maniac, and it wasn't fast enough. And then they didn't let me stay with you at first, and I had to sit there while they did all those tests, and they didn't tell me shit. I wanted to stay, wait until you woke up but- Your mom said it was my fault, and I believed her. Because it's always my fault. So I wrote it down, how much I do love you but that it's not gonna work because it can't be, she's right. And I asked her to give it to you. I promised to stay away if she would just give you the letter. Because I couldn't- I thought you were dead, and I was ready to end it too, if it meant I could be with you. I know that's stupid, but that's how I felt. And now you know, and you can leave, because you should leave. I'm not good for you, I never was, and you knew that, that's why you left me,” he finishes his venting, but you have no words left in you. There was nothing you could say that would make it better because words were not enough to encompass how you feel.

You lean forward, brushing the palm of your hand over his cheek before holding onto it and placing a soft kiss on his lips. He tastes like beer and blood, a weird mix, but a familiar one at that. “What are you doing?” JJ whispers against your lips, but you kiss him again. And he kisses you back, cautiously slow. “I'm not gonna leave ever again, I promise,” you whisper, and he looks into your eyes, pain and anxiety still prevalent in his own. “Are you sure?” he asks, brushing through your hair with his free hand. “Positive. We can get our own place, just you and me. Maybe that'll make it easier,” you smile and he nods. “I'm very sorry for what I did,” you apologize again. “I made Kie write those notes. She didn't want to. Said you don't deserve it after all,” he mumbles. “They don't know about- You know…” “I didn't tell anyone either,” you admit and he nods.

“You stood up to my dad,” JJ chuckles. “That was incredibly stupid, you know that, right?” “Yeah, but he deserves it,” you press your face into his chest. His bed, his arms, all of it makes you feel more alive than anything you had done the past months. “You really don't think you deserve me? You know I'm nothing but a weed smoking delinquent, right?” “Who said that?” you pull away to look at him. “Guess,” he snorts, and you furrow your brows in anger. “I hate her. That's the only thing he was right about. She is a bitch,” you exhale the anger over your own mother. “What'ya think happened between them two?” JJ wonders and you sigh. “My mom being my mom, and Luke being Luke…, I'm guessing nothing pretty.”

“I love you, y/n. And I don't think I'll ever stop, no matter how hard it gets,” JJ whispers and kisses the top of your head. “It's gonna be pretty hard, knowing you,” you giggle, and he fakes a gasp. “I see how it is. First, you steal my heart, then my jokes.” “I learned from the best,” you grin at him and he kisses you. It feels like the very first time. Exciting and with millions of butterflies in your stomach, and at the same time it's a forever kiss. It's a promise that you won't break, because you finally understand that you can't be without him. “I love you, too, J,” you hush against his lips, and he smiles into another kiss.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist:@ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart

[alimaybankkk]

𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

summary: when you’re drunk, a boy helps you out and eventually ends up pairing you back up with your childhood best friend. although, your dad isn’t too happy about you sneaking back in late at night, and in the morning, there’s a lot to reflect on.

warnings: abus!e, getting dr!nk, (trying to avoid cl lol), idrk

JJ WAS NOT AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON. 

even if he was, who would he have to be affectionate to?

his friends, maybe.

pope, kiara and john b, the people who knew him best weren’t much of affectionate people either. is that why they were friends? is that why they were drawn to each other? jj would never know.

but it didn’t matter. it really didn’t. he never even thought about giving love to other people. he thought about giving people laughs.

if he wanted to give someone love, it would be as simple as a hug.

until he met her.

WHEN HE met her, she’d been drunk. she’d chugged beer after beer at a kegger at the boneyard, giving her a hazy view of the blonde that now stood in front of her. 

he’d reached out to her shoulder blades, trying to balance her after she’d stepped on a sea shell. blood was now gushing from her bare foot in the sand. 

and so there was no need to tell her she was pretty. sure, jj was a douche for constantly playing girls, but he wasn’t as bad as to sleep with someone who was under the influence.

she was pretty, though, jj had thought. he knew it killed him not to say anything. he would usually be trying to shotgun with a girl like her, but judging the way she had wobbled the entire night, it didn’t look like she needed any more beer—and that was rich coming from jj.

and so he vowed not to do so much as flirt when he had saw her. it was the first time even trying to talk to a girl he would usually want to sleep with but couldn’t. he had no way to be certain of how to go about it, so he treated her like he would his friends.

“hey,” he said, gripping her shoulders strongly. “you good?”

she flashed a grin, showing her bright white teeth. they had a bit of pizza in them which made jj giggle on the inside. but just as she opened her mouth, she leaned over and gagged.

jj almost gagged himself. he never really knew how to deal with vomit.

no vomit came out, but he knew there was only a matter of time. “hey, hey, you good?”

he immediately grabbed her arm and took her to a nearby clump of bushes, holding her hair back.

she held her stomach, reaching up to her throat and let it all out.

after a good three minutes, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at jj through her lashes. “thank you.”

jj’s heart fluttered as he rocked in place for a second. “ ‘f course..”

“what—what’s your name?” she asked, sitting down on the ground. she rested her elbows on her knees and sat slightly forward. 

“’s jj… maybank,” he said.

she smiled, looking to her right. “i’m y/n.”

“nice to meet you,” he said. “so, you have a ride home, right?”

she didn’t answer. she just stared and bit her lip. 

“if you do, you should probably get going. you’re shitfaced.”

she sighed. “‘m gonna figure it out, okay, jj?”

“what—do you not have a ride?” 

“i said i’ll figure it out,” she smiled, giving an encouraging smile.

“listen,” he began. he sighed and ran his callused fingers through his hair. “i have a friend. he hates these things and he ‘keeps the signal clear.’ he can take you home. he always takes us home. i don’t think he’ll mind if he has to miss out on the party a little bit.”

“what’s his name?” 

“heyward. pope, heyward. his name—his name is pope,” jj spluttered.

“i know him,” she looked around. “childhood friend of mine.”

jj was shocked. he’d hardly ever met anyone who’d known his friends before. they were, including him, locals with fake identities who no one really knew of. “great. i’m sure, sure, that you’d trust him to take you home….”

“yeah,” she nodded. “can you come?”

“what?” 

“you helped me. i’d feel a lot safer if you came.”

he nodded quickly. “yeah—yeah that’s cool.”

thirty minutes later, the car was silent as pope drummed his fingers on the wheel. he sighed, turning to look at her in the eyes. “i honestly can’t believe you.”

“sorry?”

“sorry, that came out wrong,” pope mumbled awkwardly. “what i meant was, i’ve known you for so long, and i’ve never believed you would get that shitfaced.”

“i’m not even that bad.”

jj laughed from the back of the car and pope gave him a look saying, who do you think you are?

“hell yeah you are, chicky,” he laughed.

“chicky?” jj questioned.

“it’s what i used to call her,” pope explained. “her grandparents call her chickabiddy, and i just shortened the nickname.”

“cute.” jj rolled his eyes.

“i’m sorry, do you have a problem?” pope snapped.

“you guys are just like… flirting. i hate third wheeling…”

“ew,” y/n squealed, fake gagging. her drunken state was starting to come back into her actions. “pope my brother.”

“pope is not your brother…” pope laughed.

“pope like my brother.”

“pope like your brother.”

“at least explain a little bit of this to me,” jj suggested. “how do you guys know each other? why did you guys stop talking?”

“we know each other because of our parents,” pope spoke. “my mom was best friends with her mom, then our dads got close. we stopped talking because…” pope looked at her, a sad look in his eyes. 

“‘cause what?” jj asked.

“pope, no,” she begged, grabbing his arm. 

“nothing in our control,” pope simply sighed. she gave him a look, silently saying, thank you.

“what?” jj asked. “what’s going on?”

“you know what, j, just drop it.” pope ordered. “drop it.”

jj sighed, ripping his hat off his head. “whatever, man.”

y/n sighed. she couldn’t help but feel sorry for jj. she knew exactly what it was like to be left out of conversations, to be left without knowledge. but no matter what, this was not something she wanted anyone else to know about.

especially someone she hardly knew.

but, maybe i shouldn’t think about jj like that, she thought. he took care of me.

maybe it would be different in the morning, though. after all, she was drunk.

eventually, the rugged voltswagen bus pulled into y/n’s neighborhood, but she grabbed pope’s arm aggressively. “pope, i need you to pull around back. you remember the road to get there?”

he sighed, eyes projecting understanding. “yeah.”

jj was starting to get angry. he was getting tired of being left out.

once pope had pulled around the back, she’d given him a goodbye hug combined with a thank you hug and then opened her door after muttering thanks, bye, jj.

he felt upset he got less than pope. but he hardly knew her, so what did it matter? “wait, y/n!” he called.

she turned around, hair blowing in the wind. to jj, she looked like a goddess. his knees buckled even in his seat. “let me walk you in. you’re drunk, remember?”

she bit her lip. “you sure?”

“positive.”

he got out of the car, jogging to where she stood. he chuckled as he linked arms with her, suppressing a giggle from her plump lips.

man, that laugh, jj thought. he hardly knew her, but he knew for sure that he could listen to it for hours. he even wanted to record it on his phone so he could listen to it on replay for hours.

attempting to go around to the front of the house, she stopped him. “i’m over here.”

jj furrowed his brows. “you’re not going in through the front door?”

“snuck out.” 

he sighed and let her take him to the window of where she showed him her bedroom was, and jj silently thanked the lord that her house was one story. “i’ll see you.”

“bye, jj,” she whispered.

in her drunken state, she wobbled uneasily without the support of jj’s arm after he’d withdrawn them. but nevertheless, she stood on her tiptoes and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. he froze, cheeks staining red. she pinched his shoulder. “thanks for taking care of me.”

he nodded, that being the only thing he could do.

she climbed through the window, heart dropping at the sight.

sitting on her bed was her father, tipping a bottle of beer back and swaying on the softness of his seat.

“dad…” she mumbled, wishing it was enough to sober her up. “‘m…”

“shut the fuck up,” he whispered, throwing the bottle of beer on the ground. it shattered, the rest of the liquid that had been left splashing on the floor and onto her cheeks. she reached up to wipe it off, lip trembling at the smell.

she could already feel the hangover creeping in.

he rose from where he sat, walking quietly over to her. she looked down at her feet, hands clasped in front of her body. he tipped her chin up, looking at her face carefully. finally, he sniffled. “you’re drunk, ain’t ya?”

“dad.” she said sternly, trying to build up the courage to fight back. but as soon as he swiped one slap to the face, dragging his harsh fingers across her cheek, she just gave up. her head whipped in the same direction his hand ended in.

sobs immediately left her lips, blood following. 

her face felt hot as he backed up, sighing, seeming like he was trying to contain himself. he grabbed her by the top of her shirt, lifting her slightly into the air. “where the fuck were you?”

“dad, i was just with some friends.”

“getting shitfaced?” he laughed, not believing. “huh?”

he slapped another stinging burn to her face, shoving her against the wall. “you’re just like your mama!”

“dad, stop it!”

“huh? you hear me?” he punched her in the nose, then punched her in the eye. it was sure to make it black and blue tomorrow. “always thinking she’s better than everyone—thinking she owns herself? who the hell do you think you are?”

“please. stop. please!” she coughed blood, feeling vomit erupt in her throat.

“and you have the audacity to think you deserve to come back like this? just like your mama.”

as she choked a little bit, enough vomit spewed from her mouth to cause her father to jump back in disgust. “you fucking pig!”

more came out and he kicked her in the stomach before leaving the room.

THE NEXT MORNING she found herself laying there on the floor, not remembering how she got there at first. but as soon as she saw the vomit, felt her pounding head and body, she remembered. she remembered everything.

she whimpered as she stood, sobbing as she stepped on a broken glass. she looked down at her foot that was now bleeding and sighed, a tear falling from her eye.

grabbing her uncharged phone, she stepped into the shower and washed the vomit out of her hair and tried her best to clean the cuts.

when the water was turned off and the bathroom as now shrouded with condensation, a text from pope waited on her lock screen.

she sighed, opening her phone up to take a look.

popeeee

i know you probably will get mad at me, but i wanted to know if you got in the house and back into your room without any trouble.

she smiled. pope was truly caring.

me

well, my dad saw me, and you know… but it’s fine. just a few scratches.

popeeee

come to the chateau.

me

chateau?

popeeee

shit, forgot you haven’t heard about it before. i’ll drop a pin.

moments later, her phone buzzed with the location where pope was and she decided to go there. pope meant well and she really did think it was nice he wanted to look out for her. maybe this could build a lost friendship back up.

every event from the night before started to replay in her head and she winced, thinking of how drunk she’d gotten. to be honest, it wasn’t that bad, but it is for someone who’s used to getting straight a’s.

after sneaking out through her window, she climbed into her father’s truck and drove to the pin, wincing anytime something touched where a bruise was.

“pope!” she called, looking around.

when no one answered, she texted him, where you at?

popeeee

sit out on the porch, i’ll be right out.

she sent a thumbs up emoji before proceeding to sit down on a nearby couch. she was starting to feel her stomach throbbing and she brought her shirt up enough to see the gash that had formed. it was a mix of a bunch of different colors, practically teasing her as she stared at it.

she reached to touch it but heard a breath. she looked up and saw jj, who had stepped back. “y/n?”

pulling her shirt down, she stood. “shit…”

“what happened?”

“no, it’s fine. just fell this morning. i’m really clumsy,” she fake laughed.

“i know that’s not what happened,” jj swallowed. “i’ve seen a gash like that before, and it doesn’t come from falling.”

“what? so you’re mr. medic genius?”

he rolled his eyes. “no, but i get into fights all the time. plus, my dad can give me those gashes a lot, too.”

her heart dropped. “what?”

he didn’t seem to understand her questioning, he just continued. “so if you got into a fight, it’s okay to tell me.”

“jj…” she stood, reaching up to grab his face with her hands. not until then had jj noticed her black eye and the scratch on her face.

he simply only swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“your dad does it to you, too?” she asked.

if looks could kill, the look jj suddenly gave would be the #1 criminal in the united states. “too?”

she stepped back, hands withdrawing from his face. “‘m sorry…”

“too?” he repeated. 

“jj, i didn’t mean it. i just wasn’t thinking,” she defended. “my dad would never put his hands on me.”

jj looked like he’d gotten slapped in the face and she winced, hissing. “sorry, i didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

he shrugged. “i just want you to be honest with me… did he, or did he not do this to you?”

tears aligned themselves along her waterline, but she blinked them away. “he was just a little intoxicated last night, ’s all.”

he tore his hands from his sides to his head, breathing aggressively. when he dropped them, he yelled, “i’m gonna kill him.”

“no, jj,” she cried, grabbing his hands that had been clenched into fists. “you will do no such thing.”

shaking his head, he stepped out of her hold. “you should’ve let me walk you completely in. i would’ve beat his ass.”

“jj, the confidence is cute and all, but even if you’ve won a million fights in your life, you still wouldn’t beat my dad.” 

he sighed. “i just don’t understand how a father could do that to a daughter like that.”

her heart fluttered, suppressing a shy smile. “so, um… your dad does it to you, too?”

rolling his eyes, he sat back on the couch. “i don’t want to talk about it.”

“neither did i,” she protested and he gave her a shit, you’re right stare.

“well, he’s done it since my mom left me,” he said, eyes distant in time.

she nodded. 

“do you have a mom?”

biting her lip, she shook her head. “she died a few years ago. she wasn’t enough to stop my father from hurting me. he did it ever since i was old enough to walk.”

“damn,” he sighed. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s cool. mom would be proud of me. the heywards are the only people who know about dad being like this.”

“is that why you’re so close to pope?”

“mostly.”

he hummed, turning to the side awkwardly. “you know, if you ever need anything, i’m always here. i don’t want to be just a random guy you met at a party.”

“and you’re not,” she told him. “you took care of me. you made sure i had a ride home. hell, you even brought me back with my childhood best friend—“ she sighed, grabbing his hands. “and most of all, you listened.”

he nodded, taking a deep breath. “of course i took care of you, y/n. i like you.”

she blinked.

“i don’t want to rush anything. i usually don’t get sentimental about anyone. not even my friends. usually, i just like to, you know, sleep with someone one night and never look their way again. but, if taking it slowly is the way i have to to steal your heart, then i will wait as long as i have to.”

 a tear rolled down her face and she stood, grabbing his hand. he stood, melting into her touch. she just grabbed his face within her hands and whispered, “i like you too, jj.”

with the moment they stared into each other’s eyes—so close together, yet so far apart, jj gripped her waist and crashed their lips together. she froze in shock for a moment and a feeling of worry built up in his stomach, but it immediately disappeared when he felt her kiss him back.

it was so different than anyone he’d ever kissed. he’d usually let it be sloppy and open mouthed, quick and rough, but this time, all he wanted—no, forget wanted. all he needed was to be endlessly closer for an endless amount of time. he took his time with it, making sure to kiss every bit of her mouth. he feared that if he missed a spot, he’d never get to kiss it again, so he let his lips roam around hers for as long as they embraced each other, dragging his lips along hers. she was taken aback by the way he kissed her—so gentle but so needy. he held her like she was the most fragile thing in the world, but at the same time, was the sturdiest. he didn’t want to pull away, so he didn’t. spending minutes like that, letting himself run out of breath before taking a deep one through his nose. maybe it was for the rush, or maybe he was just getting so distracted.

she’d kissed quite a few boys before, but none of them had she ever wanted as much as jj maybank.

at last, she pulled away, lightheaded and in need of actual air. jj didn’t realize how much he need the air either until he’d been gasping for breath, still clinging onto her perfectly.

“that was…” she said, trying to find breath.

“wow,” he laughed. she thought it was the most perfect way to describe it—wow.

she laughed, too, leaning her forehead against his and placing one last final peck to his lips. he smiled, looking deeply into her eyes. “you’re the most perfect girl---”

“jj, are you kidding me?!” they heard. whipping around, she was met with pope’s awkward stance, closing his eyes and his ears. “every girl you meet, you get all drooly for.”

she frowned, realizing pope must be right.

but jj just simply scoffed, shaking his head. “it’s really different this time.”

just like the kiss was.

and she looked back into jj’s eyes, smiling, and realized, there is no way this boy could possibly be lying.

and he wasn’t.

© 2023 alimaybankkk

[catboybiologist]

I don’t know if I believe in god, but I believe god would celebrate trans people. I think human diversity is beautiful, natural, and unique to all of us. I’ve also seen that the vatican released articles protecting transgender people under similar logic(please correct me if you see otherwise). Anyway, just wanted to counterbalance that anon semen hate thing.. lol

I know this is from a good place, and I'm gonna be the asshole here, but its difficult for me to accept the kindness you're trying to extend.

I think that seeking validation and a moral code from anything other than "live your life in a way that's going to make the most people the most real and happy, including yourself", including seeking that from some kind of being of external influence, makes you susceptible to guilt and manipulation by people who use the ever-changing "interpretation" of that will to get people to live to their interests as opposed to yours, and that this philosophy isn't limited to situations where the will of that being is interpreted as something that benefits me specifically because that feels like a shortsighted mental trap of constantly validating my own life decisions to myself in a nonstop cycle of searching for approval from an influence that, by definition, doesn't communicate with me.

And funnily enough, the Vatican is the perfect example. The statements you're talking about basically amount to the same "love the sinner, hate the sin" shit we've all heard for pretty much our entire lives, and was basically only written with the intent of inviting lgbt people in to try and save their poor little misguided souls:

https://www.reuters.com/world/europe/pope-francis-calls-studies-into-ugly-gender-theory-2024-03-01/

But thanks, I guess. Sorry to be a dick, I know this came from a good place, but its hard for me to mask my opinion on this kind of thing. I'll fully admit there's a personal sting here. I was the most patient, good little, explaining and validating tranny with a couple Christian "friends" earlier this year, only to find that they were stringing me along so they could try to "save" me. Trying to find validation in organized religion will always be a losing battle. These are organizations built upon decades of power structures that require specific family dynamics for population growth and control. I don't know if there's a god or not, by definition its really impossible to say one way or the other. But the Christian God is so transparently a tool for political manipulation in a way that should be obvious to queer people, and efforts to make the church seem "okay" for queer people more often than not have that same, thinly-veiled disgust associated with them. "oh, don't worry, we all have our little sins! Jeff gambles, Tom is gay, John smokes..." that kind of shit. That's not acceptance. It's thinly veiled disgust that will drop the moment there's an excuse.

Are there truly accepting Christians? Yeah, of course. But if you hand me a gun and claim its not loaded, I'm not testing it by pulling the trigger in my mouth.

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast | Ch. 2 SBD & Cinnamon Rolls

Series Master List

Rating: M for language, but this blog is 18+ MDNI

Summary: Frankie works out at Pope's Gym with his bff Pope

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! Bit of backstory about reader, Frankie gets a glimpse into reader's powerlifting world, meet some OCs. And as always, thank you to my beta @bloviating-vy, although I messed with it later so all errors are my own, lol.

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: no y/n, reader gets a nickname, swearing, yelling, discussion about food, reader is a powerlifting girlie in her late 30's described as short and she has hair long enough to put into a ponytail, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar called Redfly's, Pope owns a gym, reader's mother is a menace, an OC is fatphobic, some Frankie POV

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One of the hobbies you picked up after you broke up with your fiancé — ex-fiancé — was baking. Chase always complained that everything you cooked or baked made him fat. You both shared a sweet tooth, but he was adamant about keeping the house sweets-free, fat-free, fun-free. Christ, he had gotten so militant about so many things. So fucking suffocating.

He didn't start out this way when you first met in college. He was sweet and driven, focused on getting into medical school, like you were. Your first real relationship. But somewhere between medical school, residency, and supporting him through his fellowship, he became increasingly neurotic and controlling. He started yelling, first about things, then at you. Why can't you do anything right? Why are you friends with her? Who is he? Why are you texting him? Why do you act like a child? You're going to wear that? That outfit makes you look like a whore. He started bragging about what a big bad surgeon he was going to be and how lucky you were to be with him. The larger his ego grew, the smaller you felt. It took you too long to realize the college boy you fell for no longer existed.

Now, every Friday night after a long day, you'd go home, throw on some tunes, and bake to decompress from the week. There is something calming and meditative about the process — measuring, mixing, and kneading — resulting in a desired outcome that pleases you, delights you. Sometimes you even liked to get experimental with the flavors from your childhood. You could watch whatever show you wanted while you baked: wholesome comedies to cringe-worthy reality tv, without a judgment to be heard. Peace. You finally had peace.

Despite the long days at the group practice, it was nothing compared to the 80-100 hours a week you'd pull working at the hospital. Did you miss teaching the next crop of residents? Sure, but you love the newfound free time you had to do things for yourself, things that interest you. You needed a break and a break from working in the same building as Chase. The hospital just wasn't big enough.

The hospital rumor mill had cranked into high gear when you caught him sneaking out of a call room with one of the OR nurses, scrubs rumpled, hair mussed. It's like you were living in a fucking episode of Grey's Anatomy. And he had the audacity to raise his voice at you in the middle of the hospital in front of what felt like everyone. You stopped wearing your engagement ring (thank fuck) and Chase started blatantly hooking up with any of the staff that were ready and willing. Of which there were a lot. You were done with the hierarchy of the hospital, placing surgeons at the very top, over-inflating their otherwise fragile egos. You were over the whispered judgements questioning Why would you leave a surgeon? What was wrong with you? Between the long hours and hushed whispers everywhere you went, you wanted — no, needed — a change.

You joined a group practice with some former residency friends across town and moved into a small one bedroom apartment until you could decide what your next steps were. It helped that Pope's Gym was halfway between home and work now, so you settled into a more sustainable routine of working, lifting, and exploring hobbies and interests long neglected since college. And Chase. And more recently, giving the whole online dating thing a spin after over a year of pouring back into yourself, rediscovering who you are now in your late 30's.

Sometimes it felt like going through a second adolescence, rebelling against the expectations Chase and your parents caged you with, to fit their very specific idea of who you should be as a wife first and physician second. Always serving a role, being a pretty object, but never a person. At the first opportunity, you sold the stupid black Audi that Chase had insisted you buy because all of the other physicians owned the same fucking one. He also insisted on an automatic because he couldn't drive stick. Now you zipped to work in that sporty blue WRX STI that you wanted in the first place, windows down, singing loudly and off key to the radio, free as can be.

It still hurt when you ended things, but it hurt a lot less than you thought it would. You realized the end really began when Chase left for his fellowship out of state and you noticed how much happier and free you felt when you were on your own. Why didn't you miss him more? Why didn't you miss him at all?

And yet, it didn't stop you from saying yes when he proposed. A big flashy proposal in front of both your families. You remember feeling frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of a car driven by your mother. Your mother's voice in your ear, You won't do better than a surgeon. Not with your looks. Not with those thighs you inherited from me. So you said yes and floated through the rest of the celebratory evening weighed down by the most obscene diamond ring, smiling and nodding like a robot while you drowned on the inside. Saying and doing exactly what you had been taught to do as the eldest daughter. Appease. Please. Live for everyone else. And don't rock the fucking boat.

Frankie couldn’t remember a Saturday when he had sweated so much. When is Pope going to get a proper A/C system for his gym? It'd been a week since Frankie met you at Redfly's and Pope had finally convinced him to come in for a workout despite his excuse that he had Gabi that weekend. I'm sure your mamá would love to spend some time with her nieta, Pope had pressed.

Which is how Frankie finds himself, curls dripping in sweat, looking up at Pope's crotch as Pope hands off the barbell for him to bench. Fuck, he’s out of shape. And getting old. Pretty sure he could hear both his shoulders creak under whatever weight Pope had shoved onto the bar. He grimaces at how he is going to feel tomorrow.

As he finishes his set and sits up, Frankie catches a blur of lavender and black greeting Benny and beelining to one of the lifting platforms near the entrance of the gym. It was you.

“You can quit starin', Fish, she’ll be here at least 2.5 hours. It’s her SBD Day,” Pope ribs. "You text her about dinner yet?"

"Um…" Frankie pauses before choosing deflection. "Uh, what's SBD?"

"Jesus, Fish, it's been over a week," Pope chides.

"I mean, we've texted a bit," Frankie mumbles, getting up from the bench and turning to face away from you, one hand cupping his neck.

"Squat, bench, deadlift," Pope responds.

"What?"

"That's what SBD stands for," Pope grunts, laying back on the bench to complete his set.

"She's going to do all three in one workout?!"

"She's planning to compete this year, so yeah," Pope unracks the barbell on his own as Frankie just stands there dumbfounded. He was beat just benching with Pope this morning.

He takes another glance in your direction as you wrestle your knee sleeves on and flop dramatically on the ground when you finish. As other members filter around your platform, you greet them like old friends with that warm, beaming smile of yours. Even the perpetually furrowed brow woman doing tire flips in one corner of the gym breaks out a smile when you arrive and wave at her. Frankie had noticed her shirt first, a deep red t-shirt with cut-off sleeves that read "STRONGER IS HARDER TO KILL" in aggressive black text.

He could watch you lift all day. The way you set up for your squat with mechanical precision. Your entire body language changes with a flick of a switch. You could be casually chatting with another person, but as soon as you walk up to the barbell and click your belt in place, you are methodical, intentional, focused. When your hands touch the barbell a streak of aggressive energy swirls around you as you swoop under the barbell and set your feet, left foot, then right. Two deep breaths and brace. A flick of your ponytail over the bar. Back tight against the bar with an assertive lift-off. Right foot back, then left. A brief pause. Then squat. Loading into your lower body with control. High knees. Weight midfoot. Driving up into each rep. Rep after rep. Pause. Re-rack. The switch flicks back when you lever off your belt and you're giggling again about something with someone until your next set. Rinse and repeat. It is fucking hot.

"C'mon Fish, top set," Pope prods, bringing Frankie back from his reverie with a groan. "If you get a move on, maybe we'll finish in time for you to offer your spotting services to her when she gets to her bench."

Frankie hustles.

As he spots Pope for his top set, he notices a toned, blonde man with a garish tan approach you as you stand to do another set. Instead of greeting him with your usual smile you gave everyone else, he sees your entire body tense at the man's approach. Frankie couldn't hear what Blondie is saying to you but you cross your arms, hands gripping your upper arms as you move to the edge of your platform, giving you as much distance as possible from the guy. You shake your head twice to whatever Blondie says.

This guy makes you uncomfortable, Frankie thinks to himself, paying rapt attention to the interaction. He loses himself in thought wondering what the story with Blondie is, if you had dated him before, or...?

Pope's grunt snaps his attention back to his friend as he helps Pope re-rack the bar.

"Who's the guy?" Frankie asks, tilting his head towards your direction. Pope glances over before he shrugs and responds, "His name is Michael? Mike? Kind of a bro."

Mike seems to have finally gotten the hint and stalked off. You stand there for a moment before glancing around the gym wondering if anyone else saw the interaction. Your eyes fell on him and Pope, lighting up before mouthing hi and giving Frankie the sweetest smile and small wave. Frankie felt his cheeks flush as he smiles back and looks down at the weights he had been removing from the bar.

"Fish, why are you taking all the weights off? We still have backdown sets!" Pope rolls his eyes. "Focus, cabrón."

As he and Pope work through the backdown sets that seem to take fucking forever, Frankie keeps a sharp eye out for Blondie in case the man decides to bother you again. Everything seems to have gone back to normal, as you finish your squats and adjust the rack for bench. Frankie notices a sudden shift in the gym's energy. Energy amping up as it seems like everyone is watching you more intently than he is. What the fuck is going on?

"Oh shit, it's time," Pope says, snapping to attention and moves towards you. "Let's go, don't wanna miss out on..."

"I thought we had one more set?" Frankie asks as he follows behind Pope.

"SNACK TIME!" bellows the woman in the aggressive Harder to Kill shirt who now stands next to you.

"Descend like locusts" drifts through your mind as you dig out two enormous Tupperwares of baked goods. Thank God for powerlifters and their appetites, otherwise your co-workers would complain about all the sweets you brought to the office. You didn't need that kind of negativity around such a delicious act of love.

Snack time became gym tradition on SBD Saturdays, usually between squat and bench. This week you made fluffy cinnamon rolls, a batch of regular flavored rolls with a light icing and an experimental batch of ube flavored rolls with delicate coconut icing, making them a delightful purple dressed in white swirls.

"Fuck, these are so good," Pope groans before taking another large chomp out of his purple cinnamon roll.

You see Frankie standing behind Pope, glancing around, bewildered at the crush of powerlifters crowding your platform to grab a treat. You manage to squeeze through the throng of biceps and quads to reach him.

"Saved you half of each," you smile up at him before proffering up your baked treats. He seemed surprised you thought to save him some.

"S'good, so good," he groans between bites. "S'not too sweet either. I really like that."

"That's why we call her Sweets," the furrow-browed woman says as she walks up to you and Frankie. When Frankie gives her a confused look, she explains, "It's the highest praise she gives for dessert, not too sweet."

"Ah yeah, no one really calls me by my name," you explain with a shrug. "Everyone just calls me Sweets, honestly." Frankie nods with comprehension, shoving the rest of the roll into his mouth as if to give himself an excuse to avoid talking.

"Frankie, this is Chloé. Chloé, Frankie," you introduce the two of them. Chloé gives you a meaningful look before grunting a nice to meet you at Frankie. When she gives him an extra firm handshake you inwardly roll your eyes.

The first time you met Chloé, she immediately sized you up, trying to not-so-subtly find out if you were interested in Benny. It made sense since you had just squatted him in front of the whole gym to get him to shut the hell up. It could have been interpreted as a sweet pick-up move (if you thought so yourself, although you hadn't tried it on someone you actually wanted to pick-up, pick-up yet). As soon as you snorted that yes, you thought Benny was hot, but no, absolutely not your type, Chloé released her arched brows and decided you were okay, or at least not mortal enemies. She even offered some valuable insight into the idiosyncrasies of Pope's Gym and its members.

You soon learned that her fierce demeanor and myriad of furrowed expressions ("Yeah, I'm aware. My mom reminds me all the fucking time my face is going to get stuck like this if it hasn't already.") protected her thoughtful, kind, and sweet interior. Her broad shoulders, taut muscles, long single braid down her back, and aggressively worded shirts struck an intimidating image. You won her over once you plied her with snacks you kept in your gym bag. Premium snacks, every powerlifter's dream.

"Why are you sharing the good stuff," she asked, a skeptical arched eyebrow appearing once again.

"Us girlies gotta stick together," you reason. "Plus, who else is going to listen to you gush about Benny's abs?"

You both bonded over training cycles (fuck volume week, you can't count higher than 5 in the gym), training on your cycle (uuuuugh, just gut me now), creative ways to consume enough carbs (you both loved to bake and began swapping recipes at an alarming frequency), Benny's abs, and Pope's ass (dares may have been made to try and bounce a quarter off it). Chloé definitely had an enormous crush on Benny, but adamantly put her foot down when it came to dating anyone from the gym. Not gonna shit where I eat or something like that.

You treasured your friendship Chloé, the way she understood the highs and lows of training, didn't care you were basically a pariah in your family, and didn't give a flying fuck about other people's expectations. When you eventually shared why you moved to this part of town, how you ended up at Pope's Gym, and why you broke off your engagement, she looked you dead in the eye and congratulated you, "Sounds like that was a close call."

It made sense why she is now giving Frankie the once over, although you suspect it would take a lot longer and more than a few choice snacks to get Chloé to view Frankie without reservation. You appreciate how protective she is of you now that you are two peas in a powerlifting gym. Despite her own reservations about dating someone at the gym, she mostly kept her opinions to herself when you had mentioned going to have drinks with Benny's friends, including Pope's best friend.

Of course she was the first one you told the next morning as you warmed up for your workout — how the evening went, how you finally tried literally picking up someone you wanted to pick-up, pick-up, and your surprise when it worked. At the end of the night, Frankie had insisted on walking you to your car where he asked for your number with heat creeping up his neck before getting promptly distracted by your car. Wow, I've always wanted to drive one of these! Did you know they make some of the best rally cars? Oooh and it’s a manual! You may have suggested if he was lucky, you’d take him for a ride one day as you slid into the driver's seat. Before you even got home, your phone pinged with a message from him asking if you'd let him know when you got home safe.

"Just... be careful okay?" Chloé pressed, concern creased across her brows this time. "If Frankie starts working out here because he is the owner's best friend, you're gonna have to deal with some awkward shit if it doesn't work out."

"Good thing I have you as back-up," you teased back, earning you a Chloé shove of annoyed affection.

Frankie knows he's really in trouble now.

Between the glare from the serious looking woman, Chloé, shooting you pointed looks after you introduced the two of them, and the fluffiest, softest, most delectable cinnamon roll he's ever eaten in his life, he's either going to die getting strangled by Chloé when he eventually fucks things up with you or he's going to die of diabetes. Because Christ, you can bake too? How did you get the roll so light and fluffy? And just the perfect level of sweetness? Is that coconut in the icing on the purple cinnamon roll? Frankie loves sweets, but hates things that were so sweet it made his literal teeth hurt. Somehow you had managed the perfect balance of sweet. A fitting nickname, Sweets.

He peers around for the tupperware you brought, hoping a cinnamon roll may have escaped the locust of lifters that had descended just a few moments before, but the box is picked clean. It's then Frankie sees Mike grousing as he picks up and slams the container onto the floor.

"You didn't save one for me, Sweets?" he says, indignant words laced with outrage.

Frankie watches you flinch and move, putting as much space as you can between yourself and Mike.

"Fuck off, Mike." Chloé bites back, stepping in front of you.

"Even the new guy got one?" Mike jerks his head towards Frankie.

Frankie steps forward in line with Chloé and furrows his brows, hands clenching and unclenching. Who the fuck did Mike think he is?

"Yeah, well, I like him more," you push back, voice unsteady, staying partially hidden behind him and Chloé.

"What the FUCK did you just say bi—" Mike snarls, stalking forward just as Pope and Benny come up behind him. Benny clamps both hands on Mike's shoulders, staring daggers into the back of his head.

"Time to take a walk, buddy," Pope instructs, as Benny steers Mike around and marches him in the opposite direction. It takes Frankie a moment to realize he'd also moved, putting himself between Mike and the two of you, ready to protect. He drops his arms before turning back towards you.

Eyes wide, you release a long, shakey exhale and roll your shoulders away from your ears. After a moment you move to slide an arm around him and Chloé. "Thanks for having my back," you say to the ground. He can still feel a slight tremor in your arm before you drop them.

"Mike's such a fucking douchebag," Chloé huffs, glaring in the direction Benny and Pope had gone with Mike to before looking at Frankie with a flicker of appreciation before resuming her usual scowl.

"Wasn't gonna let him touch either of you," Frankie hesitates, "Know you're both strong women that can handle shit, but he's got at least 30 pounds on either of you. Wouldn't be ok just sittin' back if I could do something 'bout it."

Your eyes shift around him, glancing to make sure Mike hadn't suddenly come running back, before looking up at him, eyes still wide, before thanking him again. "Yelling... freaks me out. I — I don't... handle it very well sometimes." Chloé eyes you like she knows a lot more behind what you're talking about.

Frankie's unsure of what to do next. He wants to pull you to him, hold you, promise you you are safe and he won’t ever let Mike or anyone touch a hair on you ever. He longs to soothe the terrified expression off your face, wants to know what else made you so afraid besides what happened today. He isn’t good at many things, but Frankie knows he is built to protect the people he cares about, always making sure all the guys came home to their loved ones, safe. He wants to be the one who cares about you, protects you from anything that could hurt you, even if you are capable of standing up for yourself.

You take a few more slow deep breaths, staring at the entrance of the gym, before tearing off your squat shoes and knee sleeves. A switch flips and you're back to lifting mode, focused and determined, setting up the rack for your bench.

Frankie thinks he catches Chloé rolling her eyes when you shyly ask if he'd stick around and spot you in a few sets. "Absolutely," he breathes, delighted at the excuse to stay near you.

"Look," you continue, all business. "My top set is going to get real grindy, the bar might even come to a total stop, but don't touch the fucking bar unless it goes back down, okay?" you look at him over your shoulder waiting for confirmation before you lie back on the bench.

"Yes, ma'am."

<<prev chapter next chapter >>

Notes: nieta = granddaughter; cabrón = asshole

🙏🏽 Thank you for continuing to read! Your comments and reblogs have been giving me lifeeeee! I'm still bad at tumblr and new to tags/warnings, so if I missed something please let me know. Planning to post every other week since I have a lot of travel coming up.

I am open to constructive feedback but please be gentle with this baby powerlifting writer, yeah? I might be able to squat you, but I'm a big ol' softie.

Taglist is open: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held @littlemisspascal @burntheedges

[pedroscurls]

chance encounters | pt. 2

character(s): we got all the Triple Frontier boys in this chapter (obvi except Tom). Benny Miller, Will "Ironhead" Miller, Santiago "Pope" Garcia, Frankie "Catfish" Morales, fem!Reader summary: Days blend together and it's become three months since you started training with Benny, and you use fighting and training as a distraction from your grief. It's when you're alone when things become too much. Luckily, Benny books you your first fight and your mind remains focused on winning (rather than dealing with the loss of your best friend). word count: 4.1k a/n: While I do train muay thai/kickboxing, I don't think I'd ever be able to fight (even when sparring in class I'm always so nervous lol), anyway... I hope you guys enjoy. We're going to delve deeper into Reader's grief in the next upcoming chapters and a certain someone might be able to help... warnings: grief (and Reader doing a poorly job at coping with the loss), violence - it's Reader's first fight!, mutual pining between Frankie and Reader series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

It had been three months. Three months since you started training with Benny at his gym. Three months since you started fighting again. 

But that also meant it had been a total of six months since you lost your best friend. They say that days get better, that they get easier, but why does it feel like you haven’t gotten any better at all? You’re stuck in this same pattern where the only joy and excitement you feel is when you step foot into Benny’s gym. When your glove hits the heavy bag. When your leg connects with the pads that Benny holds. But as soon as you leave, you’re back to square one. 

Every morning and every night, you lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as your mind refuses to shut off. You’re afraid to close your eyes because when you do, all you see is your best friend. You can hear his laugh. You can see his smile. You can imagine him here. 

And you hate it. You hate it because when you do open your eyes, you’re back to reality. You won’t ever be able to hear his laugh or his voice again. You won’t ever be able to see him smile or have him physically here with you. 

All he is now is just a memory, haunting you day and night. 

Benny has been so patient with you and you had gotten to know more about the three men you saw three months ago. The other blue-eyed man turned out to be his older brother, Will. He was quiet and reserved, but just like Benny, whenever he smiled, you felt a sense of comfort and security. 

Then, there was Santiago… or Santi, he liked to say. He was just as outgoing as Benny was and he certainly wasn’t afraid to let you know how attractive he thought you were. It was meant to be a compliment and it would have usually made you blush and smile, but instead, it just earned him a curt nod before you walked past him to start training with Benny. Since then, though, Santiago had always tried to make you smile or laugh and there had been a few times where he succeeded, but as soon as the smile touched your lips or the laugh escaped you, you shut down. It didn’t feel right being happy. 

And lastly, there was Frankie. He was just as quiet and reserved as Will was, but there was something about him that was soft and welcoming. You couldn’t explain it. In fact, he was the only one you hadn’t really spoken to. He liked to keep to himself, but there were certain gestures or actions that made you feel safe with him. He would hand you your duffle bag when you were getting ready to go home, give you a towel when you were drenched in sweat, and he even went so far to order food one night when you had mumbled that you hadn’t eaten all day. 

Today, just like any other day, you step into Benny’s gym. Music is quietly playing and you see all four men wrestling on the mats. It didn’t seem like they were taking it seriously and you can hear their laughter echo the walls of the gym. It makes your heart flutter for a moment because even in the midst of your own grief, these four men managed to sneak into your life and begin to make a home. In fact, you couldn’t even begin to imagine life without them. You knew your best friend would have gotten along with them just fine, especially Benny. And it pains you because your best friend isn’t here to enjoy this with you. 

“Oh, hey!” Santiago calls out, finally being overpowered by Benny as he lands on his back with a thud. “We were just messing around.” 

“And I won,” Benny grins, climbing off of Santiago and standing up. 

“You’re like thirty pounds heavier than I am. Of course you won.” Santiago rolls his eyes, but lets out a chuckle. 

“It’s all about technique,” Benny winks. “Anyway, I thought I had you scheduled to start in an hour.” He says to you. 

“Right,” you sigh. “I just figured I could come in early and hit the bag. If that’s okay?” 

“You sure you won’t be tired?” Will says, sitting up as he and Frankie both try to catch their breaths. “You’re always training. Are you getting any rest?” 

“Trying,” you admit quietly. 

Frankie’s eyes soften immediately. Since the moment he saw you, he could see the sadness in your eyes, the void that is now left within you after finding out that you had lost your best friend. Loss was something he and the rest of the guys were all too familiar with, especially with being in their line of service, but that didn’t make it any easier. Frankie had numbed his grief and his pain with drugs and alcohol that it got to a point where he almost lost everything, he almost lost himself and it was his friends that brought him back to life. It wasn’t easy, but without them, he knew he wouldn’t have made it. 

“Well, we’ll get out of your way. Go ahead and warm up,” Benny says. He and the rest of the guys stand up to give you space on the mat and Frankie is the last one to brush past you. He hears you let out a shaky breath and for a moment he pauses, stands right next to you. 

“Hey, are you–” he quietly begins. 

“Gotta train,” you interrupt, moving past him. 

Frankie sighs and nods, following the rest of the guys towards Benny’s office in the back. Once inside, Benny hands him a bottle of water and sits down on the couch along the wall, glancing over at the door every so often. 

“What’s up, Fish?” Santiago asks, arching a brow. 

“I don’t think she’s okay,” Frankie points out. 

“I’d have to agree with you there,” Benny says. “But if she doesn’t want to share, then we can’t force her. We all know what that’s like. You especially, Fish.” 

Frankie tightens his jaw, running a hand through his unruly curls. “She’s struggling. You guys saw me struggle and still forced me to–”

“That’s because we have history, hermano,” Santiago interrupts. “We’ve only known her for a few months. We can’t just– We can’t just insert ourselves in her life when she’s made it clear that we’re all just… Acquaintances?” 

“I was going to surprise her, think maybe it’ll cheer her up, but I booked her first fight for this Friday.” Benny says. “I think we’re all more than just acquaintances, but it’s her grief and we can’t push her on it.”

Will nods. “We all grieve differently. We all know this. Just give her time. If she wants to talk, she’ll reach out to one of us.” 

“And how are you sure?” Frankie asks.

Santiago, Will, and Benny all share a look with each other before they turn their attention to Frankie. They can all visibly see the concern in his features and it’s only then that they realize that’s probably something more to this. 

“Okay, what’s really going on, Frankie?” Santiago asks. 

“Nothing,” Frankie waves off. “I’m just– We’ve all been in her shoes and we had each other to get us through it.”

“You like her,” Benny slowly grins. “You’ve barely talked to her and you like her.”

“Oh, shut up. I barely know her.” 

Will chuckles. “But you like her?” 

“I’m just trying to be nice, okay?” Frankie sighs. “It’s nothing like that.” 

“You like her,” Santiago chuckles. “To be honest though, she does stare at you a little longer than everyone else.”

Frankie rolls his eyes. “Okay, you know what, I’m leaving.”

“But wait,” Benny chuckles. “You gonna say bye to her?” 

Frankie’s jaw tightens and he playfully punches Benny’s arm, shaking his head. “You guys are assholes.”

“But you love us,” Santiago grins.

“Debatable,” he mumbles. “I just think… Maybe it’d be nice if we got her some flowers or cake or a card? I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“She doesn’t seem like the flowers kind of girl and she can’t have cake.” Benny says. “A card might be a good start," he teases. 

“Great, you’ll be in charge of that, Fish,” Santiago winks. 

“Bye,” Frankie says with a shake of his head as he leaves Benny’s office. He walks down the hallway and hears the sounds of the bag and exhaled breaths. He sees you hitting the bag with such speed and precision; Benny was right. You did have potential to become a legitimate fighter. Frankie enjoys watching you train because you’re so dialed in, so focused that everything around you just seems to disappear. Just like it is now, you’re light on your feet, bouncing on your toes as you deliver punches and hooks to the bag, finishing with a knee or a high kick. It’s impressive. You’re impressive. 

He doesn’t stay long, doesn’t notice the way that your shoulders sag forward when the round ends. It’s almost like your body reminds you of the grief that encompasses your entire being. To be honest, fighting was a way for you to distract yourself from the grief and loss of your best friend. You’re not dealing with your grief. Instead, you’re pushing it as far back as you can, trying to focus on other things because you know that if you put your attention on the fact that your best friend died, you won’t be able to pull yourself out of it. 

—

Friday rolls around and you’re in the locker room, warming up. It’s your first fight and Benny seems more nervous than you are. Your hands are already wrapped and you’re shadowboxing to keep your muscles warm, bouncing on your toes and switching stances from orthodox to southpaw. Frankie, Will, and Santiago enter the locker room just a few minutes before your fight begins. 

“We wanna wish you luck,” Will says, pulling you into a gentle hug. “We know you’re gonna do great.”

“Thank you, Will.” 

Santiago looks at you and smiles. “Make sure this pretty face doesn’t get beat up, yeah?” 

You roll your eyes, the corner of your lips lifting just slightly. “You never quit, do you?” 

Santiago chuckles. “With you? Never.” He winks. 

Frankie then walks towards you. He’s wearing his Standard Heating Oil cap as usual and he lets a small smile line his lips. “Be safe, okay, hermosa?” 

Hermosa. The pet name slips and Frankie bites his lower lip. The tops of his ears begin to burn, turning red in slight embarrassment. He brings a hand to rub the back of his neck and even you are taken by surprise by the pet name. It brings a sense of warmth in the pit of your belly though and instead of waiting for Frankie to pull you into a hug, you wrap your arms around him and let out a shaky exhale. With Frankie, it’s almost like he can tell what you’re feeling, can read how you’re doing, and right now, Frankie’s arms tighten just enough around you that makes you feel safe, that makes you feel like things are going to be okay. 

“Alright, my little warrior,” Benny grins. “Let’s get out there.”

My little warrior. There’s an immediate shift in you and you pull away from Frankie immediately. He goes to say something, but he notices the look on your face, the distance in your eyes. You’re no longer here with him, with them, and he knows that your mind is elsewhere. 

But he can also see the way your eyes glaze over with unshed tears, threatening to spill out. Instead, you take a deep breath and put in your mouth guard, allowing Benny to slide on your gloves.

You’re walking out of the locker room and down the hallway, eyes focused straight ahead of you as the four men remain behind you. You’re supposed to feel excited, thrilled for your first fight, but all you can think about is your best friend and how he wasn’t there to be able to watch you. You clench your hands into fists, your gloves tightening around your hands and you shake your arms loose, seeing the octagon as the crowd cheers and boos. 

The cutman inspects you, making sure that you have your mouthguard in and your gloves tight and secure. Afterwards, the cutman then spreads petroleum jelly across your face - your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, your forehead, your chin. They are the most common areas to be hit so the petroleum jelly is to help prevent cuts and tears from the impact that you’re sure you’re about to take in this fight. 

Once the cutman finishes, you turn to Benny and he pulls you into a tight hug. You’re closest to him, especially with him being your coach, but he hasn’t yet known your full story yet. “Stay focused,” he says, pulling away. “You got this.” 

You nod and gently tap his chest with your gloves before you turn to see Will, Santiago, and Frankie flash you a thumbs up from their seats in the front. You enter the octagon and let out a deep breath, your opponent staring down at you with narrowed eyes. You feel the nerves settle in, leaning back against the cage of the octagon as the announcer begins to announce your opponent’s name and her current record. You’re obviously the underdog, with this being your first fight, no one in the crowd (except for Benny and the rest of the guys) believe you can win. 

“The Warrior!” you hear the announcer exclaim and immediately, you feel a shift within you. All you can do is focus on the woman on the other end of the octagon, eyes staring straight into her and the rest of the crowd disappears. The referee calls the both of you into the middle of the ring and you step forward, shifting between your feet as you keep your eyes solely on the woman in front of you. 

“Are we clear?” the referee says after having told you both the rules. You both nod and you reach out to touch her gloves, but she just rolls her eyes and steps away, not bothering to give you the respect you had given her. 

You both move back to your corner of the ring and within seconds, the bell rings to signal the start of the first round. You move closer to the middle of the ring, seeing her do the same as you keep your hands close to your face. She delivers several low kicks that take you a while to check, your leading leg beginning to throb in pain. 

“Check those kicks!” You hear Benny yell from your corner of the octagon. It’s taking you a while to get the groove of things, still bouncing on your toes. You notice the woman has a habit of dropping her hands every time she kicks you and you know that you just need to time it right. 

Your leg is beginning to bruise and it’s becoming a bit difficult to stand on it, so you switch stances to southpaw, keeping most of your weight on your right leg now. 

“Come on!” 

“Just end the fight already!” 

“She’s not even that good!” 

You can hear the crowd and it only fuels you even further. You try to remember Benny’s training, try to remember your best friend’s teachings, and they both had told you to be patient. The right moment will present itself. 

There’s fifteen seconds left in the first round and so far, you know you’re losing. You’ve only thrown a few punches that haven’t landed. You can hear Benny screaming, begging for you to just do something instead of standing there and taking the hits that you don’t need to take. 

The woman puts more pressure and backs you into the corner of the octagon. She clinches her hands around your neck, pulling you close enough to deliver a knee to your abdomen. It hits you straight in your core, knocking the wind out of you that you drop to your knees, falling backwards just as soon as the round ends. 

You stand up slowly, walking towards your corner and sit on the seat that Benny sets down for you. You’re breathing heavily and it hurts, dripping with sweat as your abdomen begins to bruise and throb in addition to your left leg. 

“You’re losing,” Benny says, lifting the bottle of water to your lips to give you a gulp. “You said you wanted this. You said you wanted to fight. What the hell is goin’ on?!”

You shake your head, tightening your jaw as you keep your eyes straight ahead, focused on the other woman and her team. 

“Those kicks–” you begin. “I’m sorry, Benny. I’ll do better. I’ll finish it in this round.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous.” 

You stand up from the seat, even with twenty seconds of rest left. “She drops her hands when she delivers a kick, Benny. I’m trying to find an opening.” 

“You’re gonna get your ass kicked just waiting for something to happen. Be proactive. You know you’re fast. You know you’ve got the power. I know you can win this fight. Do you?”

You nod and look up at Benny. “Yes, I do.”

“Then fuckin’ win!” 

The referee waves in your direction, signaling that the next round is about to begin. Benny looks down at you and his eyes soften for a moment. 

“You can do this,” he says. “Believe in yourself.” 

You nod and begin to bounce on your toes, the pain you’re feeling taking a backseat as you stare at the other woman with a tightened jaw and narrowed eyes. 

Then, the bell rings and the second round begins. 

The other woman rushes towards you and you use your footwork to easily move away from her punches. You see her leg begin to lift and her hands drop. This is your moment. You deliver a quick jab that connects with her face and she stumbles backward. It isn’t enough to drop her, so you push forward. 

“There you go!” Benny exclaims. “Just a 1-2! She felt that!” 

You remain focused, delivering just a simple 1-2 punch that continues to connect with her face. You step back to give you enough space to deliver a high kick to her right side, seeing her drop her hands to block the kick which gives you an opening to deliver a hard left hook across her chin. 

You put as much strength as you could behind the hook, hearing the sound of your glove connecting with her chin echo throughout the building. She falls immediately on her back and you quickly scramble to mount her. Her arms cover her face as you just begin to ground and pound, delivering hammer fists to her face. 

Then, you feel the referee come between the both of you, waving his hands in the air to stop the fight. 

You won. Holy shit, you won! 

Benny runs inside of the octagon and lifts you up, cheering and laughing. “You did it!” The rest of the guys rush inside as well, staring at you with excited eyes and grins. 

The other woman finally stands up and the referee holds each of your wrists, waiting for the announcer to announce you as the winner. Once your hand is raised in the air, you feel tears threatening to spill over. The other woman comes to you and reaches out to give you a one-armed hug. 

“Great job,” she says. “That was a great fight.” 

“I’m sure my leg is gonna hurt like hell for the next few days,” you say with a slight smile. 

The other woman chuckles and nods, turning around to walk out of the octagon with her team. 

You turn around and look at Benny, Will, Santiago, and Frankie. Seeing them stare at you with smiles finally makes the dam break and tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. Benny’s the first one to pull you into a hug, holding you so tight that it provides the comfort you didn’t know you needed. 

“Your best friend would be proud,” he whispers and it only makes you cry even harder. He and the rest of the guys lead you out of the octagon, hearing the applause and cheers from the crowd as you begin to make your way back to the locker room.

—

After your fight - and after freshening up and taking a shower - you meet the guys at the local bar that they normally frequent. You’re limping slightly, the bruise on your left leg a painful reminder of the leg kicks you endured during the fight. With each breath, you feel your side twinge with pain from the knee your opponent delivered at the end of the first round. 

You keep your hair down and past your shoulders, dressed in a black slip dress that reaches past your knees and sandals. You’re glad that your face didn’t take much damage, but you’re sure that your body is going to be in a lot more pain tomorrow. 

Tonight, you feel like you can celebrate… But also because you didn’t want to be alone. 

Stepping into the bar, you see the four men in a booth in the corner and they spot you immediately. Their eyes slightly widen at the sight of you and you can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, your cheeks heating up at the way they’re looking at you. 

“You clean up nice,” Benny chuckles. 

“I’m not in spandex shorts and a shirt, drenched in sweat,” you tease, sliding into the booth next to Frankie. 

“You look great,” Frankie blurts out. 

“Thank you, Frankie,” you say quietly, looking over at him. 

Santiago, Will, and Benny look between the both of you and arch a brow before the three of them stand up to walk towards the bar. “First round will be on me,” Will says. “What can we get for you?” 

“Glass of white wine, please,” you answer. 

When the three of them leave, there’s an uncomfortable and awkward silence that fills the air between you and Frankie. He scoots closer to the inside of the booth to give you some space and he lifts the glass of beer to his lips. 

“You were great out there tonight,” he finally says. 

“I got my ass handed to me in the first round.”

Frankie chuckles. “But you didn’t give up and you came back in the second round.”

“Guess you can call it luck.”

“It wasn’t luck.” 

You shrug and look down at your hands. “I just saw an opening and took it.” 

“You work hard and it paid off,” Frankie says. 

“Trying to,” you mumble. “It’s been hard.” 

Frankie leans forward, elbows resting on the table as he looks over at you. “Benny mentioned your best friend…” he begins quietly, eyeing you to make sure that he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries. When he realizes you weren’t going to stop him and change the subject, he continues. “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. 

Even six months later, that phrase still frustrates you. Even though it’s meant as a way to offer condolences, it’s never brought you any comfort. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. 

“I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt. “I try not to think about it, about him.” 

Frankie nods. “You know, all four of us are prior military. Special Forces.”

“Really?” you ask, brows arching. You didn’t know that, but it does explain how close and tight knit they are. 

Frankie nods again. “We lost one of our buddies a couple of years ago. There used to be five of us and now,” he sighs. “Anyway, I just– If you ever need anyone to talk to, we’re all willing to listen.” 

“You ever get through it?” You ask. “It’s been six months and I feel… Stuck.”

Frankie shrugs. “You just learn how to deal with it. Learn how to live life without them.”

“But what if you can’t?” you say quietly. “What if you aren’t sure how to deal with it? How to live life without them? Then what?”

Frankie sighs. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Would your best friend want you to move forward? Would he want you to be happy?” 

“I don’t know. I can’t ask him.” You sigh quietly and gently reach out to rest a hand on Frankie’s arm, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips. “I’m sorry. I don’t–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frankie says softly, reaching over to rest a hand over your own. “We all deal with it in our own way. I hope you know, though, that we’re all here for you.” He looks into your eyes, staring deeply. “I’m here for you.” 

[quin-ns]

The blue V (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

JJ was trying to grapple with the fact that you kissing him somehow resulted in an awful night. It should’ve been a dream come true, but then you took it back in an instant.

He made himself at home on Pope’s couch for the next few days following the movie night, not knowing how to face you.

He thought he’d ruined everything when he kissed you that night in your room, but then in the morning, you’d given him some sense of relief. You didn’t hate him, and you were willing to forget about it. It wasn’t exactly what JJ wanted and sure it hurt like hell to agree, but at least he hadn’t lost you entirely.

But then it seemed as if you changed your mind almost immediately, evident by you going out of your way to ignore him at the movie. JJ couldn’t blame you for that, he had a feeling you were only trying to spare his feelings that morning. You were so loving like that, but he should’ve known that you always saw him like a brother—then he wrecked that, like he did with most good things.

JJ resolved to hide out until the movie was over in an attempt to accept his fate, but then you came along… and you kissed him. He was so happy to be wrong, but then you decided you’d made a mistake and decided it couldn’t happen again.

Everything had become such a mess. JJ wished he could blame you, or John B, or someone that wasn’t himself.

JJ wondered where he’d be right now if he hadn’t kissed you that first time, if he hadn’t crossed that line that there was no turning back from.

He couldn’t come up with an exact answer, but he guessed it wouldn’t be on Pope’s couch, pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t have to get up just yet. He liked to think he’d be with you.

“I know your awake,” his friend said, calling his bluff. JJ reluctantly opened his eyes to find Pope standing over him, looking down with a brow raised. “Maybe I’d be more sympathetic if you told me why you were sulking.”

“I’m not sulking,” JJ argued. “I just know you’re gonna make me work.”

Maybe it was a believable enough lie, because Pope snorted.

When things got bad, JJ would usually stay at the Chateau. No adults around to worry about, and John B had the extra space for him—and you, on most occasions. It wasn’t like they weren’t on speaking terms, but JJ knew he overreacted and didn’t feel like apologizing quite yet. Plus, from what Pope mentioned, the other boy was busy anyway.

Or maybe it was just an excuse, he couldn’t know for certain.

He appreciated Pope for letting him stay, even if he’d begun to wear out his welcome. JJ could handle Heyward’s back handed comments, he’d dealt with worse. It was better than being at home, especially without you.

That was another thing he learned from Pope, that you were basically living at Kiara’s. He’d crack a joke about great minds thinking alike if you were around. But you weren’t, and he still blamed himself.

JJ wondered if Pope got the information from you or Kie, but he didn’t let himself ask. It didn’t really matter in the end as long as you were okay, even if you weren’t talking to him.

After he stormed off from the concession building, leaving you behind, he convinced Pope to pack up and head out early, leaving you and Kiara to finish the movie without them.

The entire drive back to Pope’s house, he dodged his friends' questions, and suppressed the urge to run back to you.

He wasn’t used to fighting with you, or even being mad at you, and he hated it. But he held onto that anger, because he knew if he saw you and you asked for forgiveness, he’d break. JJ clung to the stubbornness because it was easier. Even if you weren’t trying to hurt him, you had. It was bad enough feeling like he fucked everything up, but you giving him a taste of reciprocation only to regret it sent his mind in a spiral.

You told him that you couldn’t. Not that you didn’t want to. He reminded himself of that.

So if you did want to, what was so wrong about it? Really? He loved you, and you at least imagined a world where it was possible you could love him back the same way—enough to kiss him, at least. Maybe it only seemed wrong because of the way you two were acting.

You’d never been good at dealing with your feelings. That was something JJ learned the two of you shared.

JJ wondered what you were thinking right now. If it wasn’t for Pope practically dragging him off the couch to get ready for a day of grocery deliveries, JJ could’ve spent the entire day trying to guess what was going on in your head.

JJ wasn’t exactly thrilled that Pope drove them to the Chateau after all the deliveries were taken care of, but he didn’t protest, either.

Truthfully, he did miss hanging out with John B. The two of them had been best friends for what seemed like forever. Even he knew that the building resentment towards his friend didn’t feel right.

When JJ thought about it, like really thought about it, he bet that if he genuinely told John B to forget his feelings for you, his friend would try. He was a good guy like that.

JJ’s only problem was explaining himself, and that’s what kept his mouth shut about the entire thing.

John B didn’t mention it either, just greeted him and suggested the three of them go out on the boat to fish in the marsh.

There was a strange sense of relief JJ felt when John B didn’t apologize, because he wasn’t ready to either. The silent acceptance of one another’s presence was enough for them to get on with things.

It was late afternoon, so they’d be able to fish for a little while. They each had lines cast, sitting scattered along the boat. JJ happened to be on the front of the boat, while John B was on the right and Pope was on the left. They had to keep it balanced enough that it wouldn’t tip.

“He’s not so bad,” John B explained as JJ tuned back in. “He’s just really into his boat.”

Right, John B was talking about work.

“He’s paying you enough, right?” JJ piped up, looking away from his line to his friend. “To have you on call like this?”

“Not exactly ‘on call’, but yeah. Ward’s being fair,” John B explained with a shrug.

JJ smirked to himself as he looked forward. “I still think Ward wouldn’t notice if we borrowed his boat for the night.”

John B scoffed out a laugh.

“He definitely would, JJ, it’s not happening.”

“I’m not spending my summer in jail,” Pope joined in.

John B and JJ exchanged a smile over their shoulders, and everything seemed back to normal.

“We should’ve invited the girls,” Pope said randomly. “Kie would’ve made sandwiches and Y/N always brings her speaker.”

“Kie won’t let us keep anything we catch and Y/N gets bored if we’re stopped too long,” John B countered. He smiled to himself. “If Y/N were here, she’d already be jumping behind the wheel and driving way too fast.”

JJ found himself chuckling, because it was true.

“When she drives it’s like she’s trying to throw us all off,” JJ added fondly. “But we let her anyway.”

“It’s not like you can argue with her,” John B continued. JJ shared a smile with John B at the thought. “She always wins.”

“It’s ’cause you guys let her,” Pope joined in, causing both JJ and John B to turn and look at him. Pope shifted to face them. “What? It’s true. Especially JJ.”

JJ couldn’t argue because it was true, like Pope said.

A curious look appeared on John B’s face.

“You think the girls talk about us when we’re not around?”

The three of them shared a look at John B’s question.

“Probably not,” Pope finally said, turning back to his line. He sounded almost disappointed.

If Pope liked you too JJ might have to jump into the ocean.

John B exchanged a look with JJ before asking, “You good, man?”

JJ swore he noticed the same selfish worry on John B’s face, and it reminded him John B was supposed to be an obstacle.

“You think Kie even notices me?” Pope asked.

JJ felt a weight off his chest. Somehow he’d forgotten about his own suspicions about that. He’d been so caught up in his own self destruction, it was hard to keep track of everyone else.

“We’re all friends, man, of course she does,” John B supplied, but he knew that’s not how Pope meant it.

“Right,” Pope said. He got to his feet, evidently done with trying to catch anything. None of them had been successful yet. “Just forget it,” he decided, reeling in his line. “We have rules for a reason.”

No Pogue on Pogue macking. It was supposed to maintain all of their friendships with one another without anything getting complicated or anyone getting hurt. The more JJ thought about it the lamer it sounded. It was pretty useless now.

No one knew quite how to respond to that, because if John B and JJ told him to ignore the rule, things could get weird. If they told him to follow it, they’d be hypocrites.

As John B got up to go to the wheel after reeling in his line, JJ watched him. He wondered what John B would have to say about it when it came to you.

You were someone worth breaking rules for, JJ knew that all too well.

He tried to smother the sudden wave of jealousy that threatened to overtake him. Him and John B were cool now and he didn’t even have to address the argument. That should’ve been a win in JJ’s book, but he couldn���t help but think about what would happen the next time you all hung out.

It made his stomach turn to think he might have to wait a while for that. He hadn’t seen your face in person in days, hadn’t heard your voice in just as long, and he was going through withdrawals. Photos in his phone of the two of you together only made his heart ache when he looked at them before sleeping. JJ tried to dream of you, but when he woke up he could never remember the details. There was only a familiar pang in his chest that he took to mean he had.

Every time he zoned out, he remembered the kiss. Mostly the second one, where you had kissed him. Where you’d held him and he’d pressed his body to yours.

JJ cleared his throat, face growing flushed at the memory. If you hadn't rejected him, JJ wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to stop at just kissing you that night.

He looked out in the murky water, getting only ripples of his reflection. It looked wrong without you at his side.

Back at the Chateau, they lounged on the porch, now avoiding the topic of you and Kiara. They all did it in a not-so-subtle manner, but no one commented on it either.

JJ was relieved, because the longer he thought about you, the more he started to internally spiral. It didn’t help that John B was right there, sitting on the couch that fueled the fire not too long ago.

He wasn’t even sure you liked John B like that, but JJ still held enough overall doubt to keep him on his toes. He didn’t think you would kiss him either, or that you’d reject him right after. He was finding it harder to read you these days and it got to him.

“There’s gonna be a party on the beach tonight,” John B mentioned once steady conversation began to dry up. “Apparently everyone is going.”

Everyone. That could mean you.

For as far as he’d gone out of his way to avoid you to spare himself, JJ missed you. He wanted to see you. JJ couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone this long without seeing you and it was becoming unbearable. Another part of him wanted to go to get an answer. If he could just talk to you, maybe he could get you to see his side of things. If he couldn’t… JJ didn’t want to think about it at the moment.

“I’m down,” JJ replied, already getting lost in his own mind, trying to formulate what to say to you. It excited him in a strange way as all the outcomes he wanted overtook his brain. He zeroed in on the positives, the ones where he got exactly what he wanted—to be happy with you. “How ‘bout you, Pope?”

“Yeah, sure,” Pope agreed with a nod. “I just gotta stop by my house first.”

Having dinner with Pope’s family was nice, but JJ was itching to get out of his seat the entire time. He should’ve stuck with John B so he could be at the beach party by now, but he couldn’t say no to Pope, and Pope couldn’t say no to his mother.

It was way past sunset when they finally got to the Boneyard, and the party was in full swing. People cluttered the shore, music blasted from a speaker somewhere, kegs were placed about, filling the red solo cups that nearly everyone carried in their hands, and a decently sized bonfire was lighting the entire scene.

The entire car ride, JJ had been preparing himself. He decided he was going to tell you everything. Maybe you had some idea (well obviously, he didn’t kiss you for no reason), but he was going to lay all his cards on the table.

Stupid things had good outcomes all the time, right?

They hadn't so far but he had a lingering bit of hope as he reminded himself you’d kissed him too. You wouldn’t do that for no reason, he was sure of it.

JJ actually felt pretty good when he crossed into the sand.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Pope announced, to which JJ just nodded.

He began to look around, knowing you were here. He had Pope text Kie to make sure. In hindsight it was a little intensive to Pope, but JJ could make it up to him later.

When he found you, you were sitting on a fallen tree trunk that had sunken into the sand since the last big hurricane knocked it down.

Just seeing you took his breath away, you always did. You didn’t seem real to him, he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve you in his life but he would be forever grateful.

And then, from a distance, he heard you laugh. He should’ve had the forethought to look who you were talking to, but JJ had been so distracted by the sight of you after many days without.

One flick of his eyes to the left and he sucked the air back into his lungs.

Right next to you was John B, sitting too close for JJ’s comfort. The two of you were talking and flirting, probably. JJ had eyes, he could see the way his friend was looking at you.

He swallowed, forcing himself to look away.

He didn’t see the point in watching any longer, a sour feeling was already building in his gut. Then, shocking even himself, JJ did something he had a hard time doing all his life.

He walked away.

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[miguelschamp]

the exit

pairing: john b routledge x fem!reader

summary: john b promised you two find each other again. so why was he with sarah cameron ?

warnings: angst

after big john had disappeared, john b changed. and rightfully so. he didn’t know where his father was or if he was okay. he had a lot to deal with.

you guys had been dating for a year prior to that and while you loved him, you knew everything was taking a toll on him. he expressed to you how he felt he wasn’t giving you enough in the relationship and wanted to take a break.

you agreed. although it broke your heart, if it made things a little easier for him, you would deal with it. you guys remained friends and you always looked out for him.

bringing him food, making sure his house was clean, making sure he took care of himself. it was almost like you two were still dating. which over the months was brought up a lot. finally being together again and being happy.

when john b came to you about finding gold, you thought he was insane.

but he believe it existed, so like always you helped him. so far, it seemed like the gold actually existed. you guys were planning to go down and get it eventually, but as john b called everyone over to meet at the château, you were a little nervous.

not knowing exactly what to expect. but you definitely didn’t expect him to bring sarah cameron along.

kie was pacing as john b sat on the other side of the couch. pope sat on a stool by jj. jj sat in a chair and you stood beside kie.

"no effing way ! you brought her here ? so what ? she’s in on this now ?" kie yells. john b looks around for some kind of support from the others.

"i dunno." pope shrugs

"look, all i care about is her cut comes out of your share." jj says

"you know, i don't remember taking a vote. this is our thing. a pogue thing." kie says

"i gotta say, i’m just a tad uncomfortable with all of this." pope says

"thank you !"

"when are you not uncomfortable ?" john b snaps

"i dunno. i rode here on the back of jj’s bike pretty comfortably."

"it’s true. most relaxed i’ve ever seen him." jj says

"that’s cute, guys." john b says looking ahead

"you know we were all extremely comfortable until you brought her." kie says

"stop talking about me like i’m not here !" sarah says

"then leave."

sarah scoffs, "i told you."

"told him what, exactly ? that you're a liar ?"

"no, that you're a shit-talking bitch."

"oh, shit." pope says as the girls keep arguing.

"my money's on kie." jj whispers as they both pull out money.

you didn’t know what to think. you couldn’t figure out why sarah cameron of all people was here. no one had ever brought her up as a potential friend. only kie when she brought up how much she hated the girl.

you didn’t go to midsummers, so you obviously didn’t know about the conversation the others had the night prior when sarah showed up to give him the map.

all you knew was that john b got hurt and that was enough for you to be worried about him. nothing else mattered. now you wished someone would’ve told you.

"everybody shut up !" John B yells, "kie, you are my best friend, right ?" kie nods with a shrug. "and sarah, you're..." he chuckles, "you're my..."

"say it." she nods

"you’re my girlfriend."

your heart dropped.

"ohh... that's new." pope says

"she’s your girlfriend now ?" kie scoffs, "what was all that talk about you were just using her for information ? get a map, cut her loose."

"you said you were using me ?" sarah says

"no."

"yeah, you did." jj says

"you said those things." pope finishes

“and what about y/n/n ?” kie snaps. upon mentioning you, jj and pope turn to you.

"look, love just walked in, okay ?" john b says

"oh, vomit." kie says

"i didn't expect it. it just... it kind of happened. and i’m not gonna deny it. right ?"

"oh. that’s corny." pope whispers

"look, cut the bullshit, john b." kie says, "if she's in, i’m out."

"i’m not doing this."

"you are gonna decide."

"i can't !"

"i’m very interested, actually. me or her ?"

"both." he shrugs

“ooh.” pope whispers

jj whistles, "went for the hail mary."

kie storms off slamming the screen door behind her.

"it’ll be cool, right ?" sarah says, "i’m gonna leave."

"sarah, don't."

"gonna let y'all chat. let me know." she says before she storms off the other way. john b’s head falls back against the wall.

"i’d just like to say, you handled that beautifully." jj says. pope looks up toward you. you were dead silent and had tears brimming your eyes.

“y/n/n ?” he says softly. john b’s head snaps up. oh shit.

“i’m gonna go. i’ll text you guys later.” you say as your voice cracks. pope’s eyes following you as you walk off the porch.

“y/n.” john b calls out before following you.

your hands wipe at your eyes as tears finally escape. your steps quickening as you hear footsteps behind you.

“y/n.” john b says reaching out to you. you snatch your arm away as you turn to him.

“let go of me.” you snap

“can we please talk ?”

“there’s nothing to talk about.” you shrug, “you have a girlfriend now. you should go comfort her, you know ? or maybe your best friend ?”

“y/n, i didn’t mean for it to just come out like that, okay ? it really did just happen.”

“so then what were all those talks we had about finally being together ?” you say looking up at him, “you were saying how you finally felt like you were becoming your old self and you couldn’t wait for us to be together again. what was that ?”

john b’s mouth opens and closes as he stands there. “what was it, john b ?”

“i don’t know. i don’t know.” he says, “i did mean it. i did. everything i told you i meant.”

“so then why are you with sarah cameron ?” you cry. john b’s heart breaks at your tear stained cheeks, “if you meant that, you would be with me.”

“i’m sorry.” he replies weakly

“yeah, you’re sorry.” you chuckle, “you know what ? just count me out of this whole treasure thing. i don’t want anything to do with you.”

“y/n.”

“no.” you snap before walking off. john b’s hand falling by his side as he watches you.