#[don't call him out like this cleo!!]

[mars-ax]

MARS. POST THE DOODLE OF SCOTT AND CLEO CUDDLING AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

so I don't usually post doodles because I'm very self-conscious about their quality, but just for you harper

So that doodle was actually in a series of other doodles all in the theme of "literal sleeping together" because that's one of my favorite things ever, so I might as well put them all here then

[dbphantom]

[H2O s2 spoilers] Charlotte has literally done nothing wrong up until now and yet the show STILL paints her as such a bad person in Pressure Cooker.

She admits if she knew Don was Cleo's dad she wouldn't have shown up and looks visibly uncomfortable (but still trying to be polite) when she realizes it's Cleo's house and has to sit there and watch Cleo openly be rude to her mother by giving away a gift bought as a gesture of goodwill.

Charlotte KNOWS Lewis and Cleo are talking about her and instead of being rude and nasty about it (LIKE CLEO WAS IN EPISODE 3 WHEN SHE MADE ASSUMPTIONS) is just like "yeah, your dad is really struggling right now, you probably wanna go back in there and help him..?" like OMG that was so sweet of her. Yeah she interrupted their conversation, but come on she was trying to be nice. Characters interrupt each other all the time on this show- it's a teen drama, that's how it works. Despite everything Cleo had already done to her, Charlotte was still looking out for her dad.

Then Charlotte accidentally knocks a thing of flour into Cleo and goes up to her room after Cleo storms off to personally apologize for even BEING THERE because she can tell Cleo is Absolutely Furious about her showing up, and openly asks her if she can spend time with/date Lewis because she understands the two of them were together and she SEES how Cleo is reacting, and CLEO GIVES HER THE GO-AHEAD, BUT STILL TREATS HER AWFULLY ANYWAY. She didn't HAVE to ask for permission, but she does anyway!! AFTER APOLOGIZING FOR SIMPLY SHOWING UP TO HER MOM'S WORK EVENT.

and THEN at the end of the episode Cleo is like "even if it IS Charlotte (who I hate for literally no reason other than she stood up for herself when I tried to shame her in public for hanging out with my ex-boyfriend who I broke up with), it's Lewis's choice" but then gives her an actual death glare at the very end of the episode when Charlotte is literally just looking at her and evil music swells all because Charlotte smiles. WHAT!!!!!

IF YOU WANTED ME TO HATE CHARLOTTE SO BAD WHY DID YOU MAKE CLEO SO UNREASONABLE AND MEAN THIS SEASON AND CHARLOTTE AN ACTUAL SWEETHEART WHO HASN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG OTHER THAN ACCIDENTALLY KNOCKING A BOWL OF FLOUR INTO SOMEONE AND PINING AFTER A GUY WHO IS- I CANNOT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGH- SINGLE!!!

anyway brb making a list of all the times the girls openly use their powers or are just straight-up reckless in public SOLELY IN SEASON 2 so i can compare it to them getting really mad at Charlotte and holding her to a huge double-standard because she used her powers to mess with Nate a little bit because HUUUUUUH??? if you have any examples hit me up because im currently doing a rewatch and im on ep 6 and already have a few... most notably Emma using her powers during the soccer game to dunk on a seven-year-old, but also Cleo using her powers at school to [checks notes] take a shortcut across a field with a sprinkler instead of just walking around. I have a few from memory as well that i just haven't gotten up to yet (like Emma and Rikki harassing Lewis at his job and almost getting him arrested because they left the gate open)

>>>>>oh i see... tumblr desktop does not warn you if you have over 30 tags. noted... rip my essay on how Lewis also isn't 100% in the right here [with Charlotte. with Cleo he did nothing wrong (being overbearing... ok i get it, but she could have sat him down and talked to him abt how she was feeling before immediately jumping to breaking up) and even took her aside more than once to ask her if she was okay, if this is what she really wanted, and where he stands with her- to which she lies to his face during and says everything's fine, she's just protecting the secret, she isn't jealous At All, she doesn't want to get back together] because he unintentionally is leading Charlotte on bc he's not communicating the best, and then when they DO get together he's clearly not as invested in their relationship as she is, or how Charlotte was kinda jumping the gun a little but while their relationship is kinda messy in itself, it just doesn't compare to how annoyed Cleo makes me this season, i won't lie. also i did rant about the marine park incident again. it still really bothers me lolol

[petriwriting]

That's my girl - JJ Maybank X Reader

Basically Reader beating the shit out of Ruthie. (Request!)

The sunset had everything illuminated in a peachy glow, You were situated on the beach with the Pogues, your head rested on JJ's shoulder as he sipped on a beer. Sarah and John B were laying on each other on the blanket, enjoying the warmth of the bonfire tha Pope was tending to while Cleo roasted marshmallows. The conversation had come to a quiet end, everyone enjoying the company. You had just finished passing around a blunt. Kie was practicing her Ukulele, which created a melody with the lapping waves and crackling fire. It was the perfect evening, Until it wasn't.

The Kook group, consisting of Topper, some of his buddies and Ruthie were all packed into Topper's jeep, with surfboards strapped to the top of it. The headlights were blinding, and their trashy rap music was blasted. "dude," kie said with an eye roll. "All this beach and they could have gone anywhere." John B mumbles. JJ stiffens, he's very protective over you and you all know he won't hesitate to fight for any of you. 

Topped hops out of the driver seat and wanders over, his crew is about 20 feet away setting up chairs and grabbing their boards. "hey!" he calls, you have to give him credit for at least trying. Ruthie is not far behind him. "Just trying to keep the peace here. No hard feelings alright? We're just here to night surf." he says, standing there awkwardly. Everyone stands up, defensively. JJ steps in front of you, you see Ruthie and her tacky expensive branded Bikini. "I don't believe that at all." Sarah rolls her eyes and mutters folding her arms. "There's miles of beach. Why here?" Kie snaps at him. "It's just where we ended up." Topper says. He shrugs. Ruthie folds her arms. "This is our beach anyway." Ruthie chimes in with a smug look. "You don't own the island." You snap back."

This is typical banter, The kooks are bullies, and this childish rivalry doesn't end just because  Topper doesn't enjoy the conflict. "We do now." Ruthie steps up to your face, but before she could get more than a few inches closer, JJ is in front of you. "Hey, just back off." He says through gritted teeth, it's a warning and it is fair. Ruthie just laughs. "Stray dogs don't belong on the beach." Ruthie snarls, glancing between JJ and John B. "Careful Top," she says, grabbing his arm. "This one looks like it has rabies." She said right to JJ's face. 

"I'd watch your back if i was you," you snapped at her. "Knock it off. We can play nice. it's not hard." Topper says, to both of you. Ruthie folds her arms and kicks the sand. The group is now irritated, and ready to leave. "How about you back the fuck off? Yeah?" JJ threatened, getting up in Toppers' face. You grabbed his arm and nudged for him to back off, to avoid the conflict. Even though you were pissed off at the rude comment, You didn't want physical violence to be the first reaction everytime you crossed paths with the Kooks. Topper stared intensely for a moment, he was trying to be intimidating, although it wasn't really working. As He and Ruthie started to walk off you heard Ruthie mutter something under her breath and scoffed. "How about you learn to control your bitch..." she muttered.

Before anyone could really say or do anything, you've already lashed out. Topper and his buddies have caused endless problems all summer, and you reached a boiling point. Everyone was surprised JJ hadn't snapped first, and he really wanted to.

Sarah covered her mouth in shock. "Oh my god," Pope says. "Shit," JJ says, now smiling. "That's my girl!" he cheers.

upon insulting your boyfriend, You slapped Ruthie across the face, hard enough for her lip to start bleeding. You had then grabbed her by her ponytail and dragged her across the sand. She's now sprawled across the sand frantically, and Topper rushes to her side. You kick her in her side and she groans.

"Say it to my face next time cunt." You quip at her. As a final blow you kick sand into their faces. "You fucking psycho!" she spat, you rolled your eyes, sincerely hoping her bloody nose is broken.

The rest of your group take this as a cue to dip, grabbing everything and rushing towards the Twinkie that was parked not too far from where you all had been hanging out. You ran off with JJ's hand in yours as John B drove you all to safety. Away from the scene.

"That was kinda awesome," Cleo encourages with a nod. JJ slings an arm around you proud to be able to call you his. "That was well deserved though, she was being a bitch." Kie chimes in. "I think you ripped her extensions out." Sarah giggled. This is exactly why you loved these people, instead of a lecture you were encouraged, and supported endlessly. JJ thought that it was HOT. and couldn't wait to show you later in private how attractive it was when you were protective over your friends, or him.

[rafestify]

I have an idea! Reader is a part of the Pouge group, but has never interracted with Rafe. She is the one choosing to run to cut Rafe loose. In the middle of it, the boat takes a dip and Reader hits her head passing out

After the Storm — Rafe Cameron

Summary : After a stormy accident leaves the Ex!Pogue!Reader injured, Rafe helps her to safety, and amidst the other’s mixed reactions, an unspoken connection begins to form between them. (season 4 part 2 spoiler alert���️)

Rafe Cameron x Ex!Pogue!Reader

Warnings : language, blood, violence (maybe?), english is not my first language.

A/N : changed the plot a bit, i hope u don't mind anon! 🤍

The boat rocked violently as we cut through the dark, churning waves on our way to Morocco. The storm had rolled in fast, catching us all off guard, and now the sky was a swirling mass of black clouds, illuminated only by the sharp flashes of lightning. Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the boat as if the heavens themselves were trying to tear us apart.

I clung to the railing, my knuckles white as I fought to keep my footing. The wind whipped at my hair, and the cold spray of the sea stung my face. Somewhere behind me, Pope was shouting orders to help stabilize the boat, his voice nearly drowned out by the roaring wind. Cleo and Sarah were struggling to tie down the loose sails, while Kiara and John B worked on keeping the deck clear of debris. Everyone was on edge, moving with a desperate urgency that matched the storm’s fury.

Everyone except Rafe. He was below deck, locked in a small room that JJ had secured with a heavy bolt. After everything Rafe had done, and the chaos he was likely to cause, none of us were willing to take any chances. JJ had tied him up, hands and feet bound tightly, to make sure he couldn’t pull any stunts while we were out here. I couldn’t blame him. Rafe had a way of making bad situations worse, and in the middle of a storm like this, we couldn’t afford even a second of distraction.

Still, the thought of him down there, trapped and furious, sent a shiver down my spine. I could almost hear him yelling, his voice muffled by the thick wooden door, cursing JJ and the rest of us for leaving him in that room. Part of me felt bad for him. But, he brought this on himself, and we all knew it.

“Hold tight!” JJ’s voice cut through the chaos as the boat tilted sharply to one side, nearly throwing me off balance. I grabbed onto the nearest pole, my heart hammering in my chest as the vessel righted itself. The waves were monstrous now, each one slamming into the hull with a deafening crash. The boat groaned under the strain, and I could feel the fear tightening in my gut. If the storm got any worse, there was a real chance we wouldn’t make it to Morocco.

The sudden dip of the boat was enough to send everyone scrambling for a handhold. Below deck, I heard a loud thud. Rafe, probably thrown against the wall in his tiny prison. I imagined him cursing us again, furious and helpless in equal measure.

“JJ!” I called out, my voice barely carrying over the wind. He was near the cabin door, his face set in grim determination. “You sure he’s okay down there?”

JJ shot me a look, water dripping from his soaked hair. “He’s fine,” he said, though his tone wasn’t as confident as I wanted it to be.

The boat lurched again, and I clung to the railing for a moment before steadying myself. My mind was racing, torn between the storm’s fury and the thought of Rafe locked up below deck. The guilt was gnawing at me, despite everything Rafe had done. No one deserved to be tied up and helpless during a storm like this, not even someone as evil as him.

I scrambled across the slippery deck, ducking under ropes and dodging the flying spray of seawater, searching desperately for anything sharp. My eyes scanned the clutter of tools scattered near the supply boxes, knives, a pair of pliers, maybe even a jagged edge on some broken wood. If I could just cut him loose, we could figure out the rest later. Right now, all I could think about was the sheer panic Rafe must be feeling, alone in that small, dark room as the boat tossed like a cork in the waves.

“What are you doing?” Pope’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and demanding. He was gripping the railing nearby, his soaked shirt plastered to his body. His eyes narrowed when he saw me digging through the tools.

“I’m not letting him drown!” I said firmly, though my voice wavered slightly. “He’s trapped down there, Pope. If this boat capsizes or something, he’ll—”

“No,” Pope snapped, shaking his head. “Are u really thinking about him right now?”

“Are you kidding me?” I shot back, frustration boiling over. “If something happens, he’ll drown! You really want that?”

Pope didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced toward the cabin door, his jaw tight. “We locked him up for a reason,” he muttered.

I could feel the weight of the storm pressing down on us, every second stretching my nerves thinner. Cleo, overhearing us, stepped in, her arms crossed despite the biting wind. “He’ll just cause more trouble if you let him out,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “You know how Rafe is.”

“I don't care,” I said, grabbing a small knife from the pile. “I can handle him.”

The wind howled outside as I pushed open the door and descended the narrow steps to the lower deck. The small room where JJ had locked Rafe was at the far end of the hall, its heavy wooden door bolted shut. My hands were shaking, the knife cold and slick in my grip as I approached.

The boat groaned under the strain of the storm, tilting sharply to one side. I had to steady myself against the wall to keep from falling. My pulse was racing, fear and determination swirling together in a storm of their own. I reached the door and unbolted it with trembling hands, the loud clack barely audible over the sounds of the raging sea.

Inside, Rafe sat against the wall, his hands and feet bound tightly with ropes. His head snapped up as the door swung open, his wild eyes narrowing when he saw me. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice rough and laced with anger.

“I’m getting you out,” I said firmly, stepping inside and kneeling down next to him. The room was cramped, the air thick and musty. I could feel the boat lurching beneath us, but I ignored it, focusing on the ropes that dug into his wrists.

“Took u long enough,” Rafe scoffed, though there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Your friends are gonna lose their minds.”

“Let them,” I shot back, sawing at the ropes with the knife. “I’m not leaving you tied up in here while the boat’s about to fall apart.”

Rafe fell silent, watching me closely. His expression was guarded, but there was something else there, something softer, buried beneath the layers of anger and mistrust. For a moment, it felt like the Rafe I used to know, the one who could make me safe when everything else was falling apart, was sitting in front of me again.

The boat suddenly dipped hard, the floor pitching sharply beneath us. I lost my balance, my head slamming against the corner of the counter with a sickening thud. Pain exploded in my skull, and I gasped, dropping the knife as stars danced in my vision.

“Shit!” Rafe’s voice was sharp, panic edging into his tone. “You alright?”

I pressed a hand to my forehead, wincing as I felt a warm, sticky wetness, blood. The room spun, but I shook it off, forcing myself to focus. “I’m fine,” I muttered, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.

Rafe’s expression shifted, the frustration melting into something that almost looked like concern. “Give me the knife,” he said quickly. “You’re useless like this. Let me finish.” I hesitated for half a second, then shoved the knife into his hands, too dazed to argue. He made quick work of the ropes, his movements sharp and precise. The moment he was free, he grabbed my arm, helping me sit up as the boat tilted again.

“You really shouldn’t have come down here,” he muttered, but there was no bite in his words. His hand lingered on my arm, steadying me.

“I couldn’t just leave you here.” I said, managing a weak smile despite the pain pounding in my head.

Rafe stared at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then he helped me to my feet, his grip firm and steady. “Come on,” he said, his voice low. “Let’s get out of here.” Rafe’s grip was firm as he helped me to my feet, his fingers steady despite the chaos around us. The boat dipped again, pitching us to the side, but Rafe’s hand stayed locked around my arm, guiding me through the dark, narrow corridor.

My head throbbed with every step, the sharp pain from where I’d hit it blurring my vision. I had to force myself to stay focused, even though the dizziness was relentless.

I barely registered the climb up the stairs as he helped me up to the main deck. As soon as we emerged from the narrow passageway, the cold wind and rain hit me like a wall. Rafe led me toward the back of the deck, guiding me to the nearest chair. My legs felt like jelly, and I was barely aware of the others as they crowded around us, a mix of confusion and anger crossing their faces when they saw Rafe.

They all seemed furious, their eyes narrowing at the sight of him, but as soon as they saw me, slumped and barely conscious, their expressions changed in an instant. The noise on the deck quieted, and the tension in the air shifted, turning into something heavy, like a collective breath held. They all stood frozen for a moment, just staring at me.

Rafe helped me into the chair, his hand on my shoulder, his gaze flicking between me and the others. He was tense, still unsure of how they’d react, but when they didn’t speak, just stood there silently, he let out a breath.

I dropped my forehead to the desk in front of me, trying to steady my spinning head. The dizziness wasn’t letting up, but the cold air helped clear some of the fog in my mind. I was barely aware of the others now, of their whispered voices, of the storm outside. I just needed to focus on not falling apart.

"Hey, easy," Rafe’s voice was softer now, and I felt his hand briefly on my shoulder. He seemed to hesitate, as if unsure whether to speak or let me be. “You good?”

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I let my head rest against the cold wood, the sound of the storm deafening, the boat swaying beneath us. My pulse was loud in my ears, but it was the thudding in my skull that held my attention.

Rafe knelt beside me, his presence a quiet comfort. “You need anything?” His voice was quiet but insistent. “Water? You want me to get—”

“No,” I cut him off, my voice raspy. “Just... just leave me for a minute.” I didn’t want to deal with anyone right now, didn’t want to listen to the others or the mess we were all in. I could barely keep my own head straight.

Rafe didn’t push me. Instead, he sat down beside me, close but not too close, like he was giving me space but didn’t want to leave me. I could feel his unease, his restlessness as he waited for me to gather myself.

The minutes stretched on, the boat dipping and swaying with every wave. The storm outside raged on, but inside my head, the dizziness slowly faded into a dull throb. I sat there, unmoving, barely aware of anything except the steady rhythm of my pulse and the weight of the moment.

Eventually, the storm seemed to quiet, the winds lessening and the rain tapering off. The Pogues, who had stood silently watching, started to break away, but their eyes lingered on me, their concern palpable.

Rafe stayed by my side, his gaze softening slightly when I glanced at him. It was a quiet moment, an unspoken understanding between us, one that neither of us had to say aloud. The tension was still there, but it felt a little less heavy now, like the storm outside had made us all a little raw.

likes & reblogs are appreciated! 🍦

[simpforrooster]

did you tell him not yet.

rafe cameron x f!reader

summary: reader is secretly dating rafe, but he rouses some suspicion on surf day.

a/n: my first time writing for outer banks. i hope all my top gun fans love it. i’m back in my outer banks era and need to fill my rafe bucket. i def think i could fix him.

t/w: cursing, mentions of violence, allusions to smut, rafe and the pouges being rafe and the pouges.

"suuuurf day!" jj and john b run through the house, banging on all the doors. sarah and kei follow behind their boyfriends, chuckling at their behavior. pope and cleo exit their room, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

"breakfast first!" you call from the kitchen, standing over the pan of eggs fresh from pougelandia's chickens. the pouges crowd around you, grabbing plates and stacking food on them.

jj kisses your cheek. "we'd never eat if it wasn't for you." rolling your eyes, you join your friends at the makeshift dining table.

"so after we eat, we head out to the beach and make a day of it," john b tells the group, sounding like a kid at christmas. once the plan is made and breakfast cleaned up, everyone piles in the twinkie.

your phone pings with a message. checking over your shoulder, you open it.

I miss you, babygirl.

your cheeks heat up at the thought of your boyfriend--well secret boyfriend.

rafe cameron.

sarah's psychotic, drug-addicted, low key killer of a brother. you couldn't explain it, and you never make excuses for his behavior, but you're in love with him. it's so cliche to say, but he's different around you.

the two of you got close after el dorado. it wasn't just one cataclysmic event. the two of you started running into each other around the island. no matter where you were, rafe seemed to be there. the more the two of you talked, the closer you grew. one thing led to another and he was kissing you in the alleyway of the general store.

of course, you couldn’t tell the pouges. they wouldn’t understand. not that you’d blame them. hell, you hardly understood it yourself.

rafe’s put your friends through it, to put it mildly.

shooting rafe a quick reply, you help the pouges set up on the beach.

~

after an uneventful morning of surfing and relaxing, the sound of a truck pulls you from the serenity.

"oh god, no. don't stop here," jj murmurs into kie's shoulder. the two of them were wrapped around one another, as if they couldn't stand to not be touching.

kooks.

the truck behind topper is the one that gains your attention.

rafe.

"Sarah, what's your damn brother and his friends doing here?" pope asks.

"fuck if I know, pope!" she shoots back.

naturally, the kooks park their vehicles a little ways down from y'all. topper and ruthie fall out their vehicle first, topper giving a sarcastic wave.

rafe climbs from his truck looking devastaing in his ray bans and striped shirt. he glances your way, and though you can't see his eyes beneath his sunglasses, he raises his brow slightly, acknowledging you.

goosebumps flood your body and all you want to do is run to him.

"I'll go say something," jj says, untangling himself from kie. she tries to talk him out of it, pulling him back down to her.

"listen to kie, jj. I'll go," you tell them, loving the excuse to go talk to your boyfriend.

as you cross the sand toward the kooks, rafe fixes you with a terrifying grin. one that confirms to everyone else, he has nothing but disdain for you, but you know better.

rafe moves toward you, meeting you between where everyone is set up.

“what’s up, pouge?” he nods.

“kook.”

rafe pulls his shades down his down his nose, giving you a free show of his eyes you love so much.

“look, just keep your friends on that side of the beach and we’ll stay on ours,” you reason, feeling your friends a few steps behind you.

“you know,” rafe starts, completely ignoring your suggestion, “you’re pretty sexy for a pouge. why don’t you and i get out of here.”

he makes a show of dragging his eyes up and down your body. a light brow flicks up in approval. as much as you love a good bikini, you’ve been dying to test drive your new black one piece.

“what the fuck, rafe?! don’t talk to her like that!” sarah says, coming up beside you.

“baby sis, hey,” he gives her one of his signature dead inside looks. “i’ll talk to her however i want. she doesn’t seem to mind, hmm?” he winks at you over his raybans.

“bite me, rafe.” you cross your arms over your chest.

“gladly,” he grins.

“tell your buddies to leave us alone, dick,” sarah tells rafe, grabbing your hand to pull you back to your friends.

rafe wiggles his fingers at you in a condescending wave. “let me know when you’re tired of jacking around with those lowlifes.”

~

for the most part, the kooks left everyone alone, keeping to themselves. of course, there was a scuffle or two when it came to the waves.

as the sun falls below the horizon, john b and pope built a small bonfire. jj passes beers and a joint around the group.

“ugh, what is rafe doing?” sarah says, passing the joint to you.

“you know, that’s not good for you,” rafe tells you as you place the blunt between your lips.

“fuck off, rafe,” you say, blowing the smoke out.

“yeah, i’d rather fuck you.” the confession catches you off guard, causing you to choke on some smoke.

john b stands to his feet, shoving rafe back in one swift motion. jj and pope scramble to their feet, ready to back up john b. rafe fixes them with a menacing stare.

“don’t put your hands on me again, pouge.”

“don’t talk to her like that again, asshole.”

“or what?” rafe challenges. his fists clench at his side. you know he hates that the pouges are willing to fight him over you. he’s the one who should be protecting your honor.

john b and rafe stare at one another, daring each other to make the first move. an impending fight and the crisp beach air has you shivering in the sand.

rafe immediately takes notice, having become hyper aware of everything there is to know about you. he reaches behind his neck, pulling the sweater from his body. dropping it in your lap, he turns without another word heading back to the kooks. you pray the flush on your cheeks isn’t noticeable in the firelight.

kie and sarah exchange a look, before turning that look toward you. the sweater in your lap smells just like the cologne rafe knows you love.

“well, i’m not gonna waste a perfectly good brooks brothers,” you shrug, letting the fabric warm you.

~

“that was so weird with rafe, wasn’t it?” sarah says when everyone is piled back in the twinkie. john b points the bus toward pougelandia.

“you mean when he showed that sheer amount of human decency?” you reply, praying your voice doesn’t betray you.

“or the way he was so blatantly hitting on you,” sarah says.

“or how you just let him,” kie points out.

“i don’t know what yall are talking about,” you say into the sweater sleeves, breathing in the smell of rafe.

“come on, y/n. tell us the truth. you fuckin’ rafe?” jj asks. john b slams on the breaks once he computes jj’s question. everyone is jostled around at the sudden stop.

“damnit, john b!” pope scolds.

john b turns and looks at you. “pouges don’t lie to each other.” you can see the hurt in john b’s eyes, just at the thought of you being with rafe.

“no, i’m not ���fuckin’ rafe,” you tell them. it wasn’t a lie. the two of you hadn’t gotten that far in this secret relationship. john b held your gaze. seemingly okay with your answer, he hit the gas. the ride was silent the rest of the way home.

once everyone settled in their respective rooms with their respective partners, a sound came from your window.

followed by another.

then another.

investigating, you find rafe poised with another pebble, ready to throw.

throwing open the window, you scold him. “what the fuck, rafe?!”

rafe hoists himself through your window and into your room.

“you’re not supposed to be here. it’s too risky.”

rafe’s arms circle your waist. he pulls you to him, and positions his mouth at your ear. “no, what’s risky was parading around in that fucking bathing suit all afternoon knowing i couldn’t do anything about it.”

“oh you did plenty,” you said into his collarbone. he shivers under your touch, just as you do with his. “what was all that? jj asked if we were sleeping together.”

his lips move along your jaw in sweet, intoxicating kisses. “did you tell him not yet?”

your breath catches in your throat at the mention of ‘yet.’ “of course not,” you breathe.

his mouth twists into a smirk against your neck. he sucks the area where your neck meets your shoulder, leaving a mark. “your friends can’t handle the idea of their sweet little friend with someone like me?” the words travel across your body.

“it’s not that, rafe. do i need to list the ways you’ve wronged them in the past?”

rafe breathes out a chuckle. “i am well aware of my actions when it comes to those freaks.”

“those ‘freaks’ are my friends,” you caution.

he walks the two of you backwards, your knees hitting the bed. when he gently pushes you back, the box spring creaks beneath you.

“hmm, that’s no good,” rafe remarks at the noisy mattress. “you’ve got to let me replace this with something better.”

attacking your neck with kisses, you suddenly forget what the two of you were talking about. rafe engulfs you between himself and the bed. “you’re still wearing my sweater,” he notices.

“of course i am,” you murmur.

his hand travels up your leg fluttering against your lacey underwear, a moan escaping his mouth. “perfect,” he breathes.

“don’t flatter me, cameron,” you say, pulling his mouth against yours. he works his expert lips against yours. you squirm beneath him, feeling his erection against you.

he chuckles against your lips. “baby, you know i don’t do flattery.”

every move the two of you makes is met by the squeak of the mattress. an aggravated groan falls from his lips. “this isn’t happening tonight, is it?”

you shake your head against his chest, hiding a grin. “not on this mattress”

“i’m not opposed to the floor. or my bike. there’s the beach. or y’all’s rickety bait shop. what about jj’s boat?” rafe rattles off every idea.

“rafe, our first time cannot be at any of those places. i want it to be perfect,” you tell him, kissing his cheek. rafe’s head falls into your shoulder. “and jj’s boat is 100% out of the question.”

“okay, baby,” he concedes, pulling himself from you.

“where are you going?” you whine, gripping his shirt to bring him back to you.

“tannyhill?” it comes out as a question.

“stay with me,” you whisper. “just be gone before everyone wakes up.”

“anything for you.” rafe strips down to his boxers and climbs under the blankets next to you. “i never want to see this sweater off of you. you look so fucking sexy in it. seeing it on you at the beach almost did me in. i want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“i’m yours, rafe,” you murmur, cuddling your body into his.

the two of you drift to sleep wrapped in one another’s arms.

~

“i fucking knew it!” jj’s voice comes from your door.

[raticalshoez]

Funny observations (to me) that I noticed regarding the Life Series

Skizz is a naturally kind, trusting person who has faith in people, but doesn't ever let anyone treat him as a doormat or a pushover. Tango on the other hand is not a very trusting person who can easily pick out suspicious people, and is constantly on edge about who to trust, yet somehow is more likely to be a doormat or pushover than Skizz is???

Lizzie is the least whimsical woman (or rather, feminine presenting person) on this server. You may think that goes to Cleo for their sorta realist mindset and fear mongering status, or like Pearl because of her incredibly depressing lore, or Gem because she can be insane sometimes, but no it's Lizzie. All of them love cute things, but I think the other three fawn over cute things in endearing ways while Lizzie expresses her love very blunt and dry. In the best way possible, she is like the server's cranky old woman to me. Does anyone see my vision or do I sound insane.

People do not talk about or write enough about Jimmy's habit of talking real big and threatening things and sizing himself up to only immediately shoot himself down and run off terrified when challenged by something a bit too threatening or a bit too much for him to handle. It is one of my favorite character defining mannerisms of Jimmy because it's so funny to me. I love wholesome, golden retriever man, but he is also this and I don't see it nearly enough

In Secret Life, when Gem was giving Etho flack for not attacking Cleo during the boogeypocalypse, Bdubs immediately jumps in to defend him by saying "Well, I can't help but notice Scott's not dead yet either, Gem!" Like. Just a moment ago you were scolding him too. He cannot let Etho be in a negative situation for even one second....please get a grip girl he ain't devoted to you rn......you don't have to all that for him...

Etho gets called washed up the most in Limited Life and yet that is the season where he placed the highest and I think that is hilarious

[gothcsz]

part ten of the neighbors series. i hope everyone who has been reading so far enjoys this chapter, because i definitely shed a tear or two during the writing process. one of the more difficult things i've had to write because that writer's block hit me good and hard multiple times throughout this, but i am pretty proud of what came out of it! mwah, love you all... please come cry about this with me ok thank u 🖤 oh and a big big big thank you to @persephone-girl for always being there for me when i'm ranting about how i don't know what the hell i'm doing and for reading over the parts i was struggling with. ¡te amo, cleo!

javier peña x f!reader. ~10k word count. (oops) the angst we've all come to know and love, canon typical violence (please proceed with caution), feelings are confessed, anything procedural that occurs comes from the small knowledge i have and just pure vibes (let's suspend our belief real quick), translated spanish, mateo is a piece of shit, reader is going through it, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

The sharp buzzing of your pager against the kitchen table jolts you out of your book. You frown, sliding a ribbon into place to mark your page before rising to see who’s paging you this late.

Mateo glances over from his spot on the couch, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches you. “¿Quién te llama tan tarde?” (Who is calling you so late?)

“No se,” (I don’t know) you pluck the device from the table and squint at the screen. A number you don’t recognize flashes, accompanied by the name of a local hospital. 

You blink in confusion, picking up the landline and dialing the number, tapping your fingers against the countertop as you wait.

A brisk receptionist answers, eventually redirecting you to someone who can actually help you in English.

Your Spanish is good but not that good.

“Javier Peña is here and you’re listed as one of his emergency contacts.”

Your heart drops into your stomach and your grip tightens on the receiver. “Is he okay? What happened?” Your mind races through a dozen worst-case scenarios.

“He’s alright,” the nurse assures you, “Much less intoxicated than when he was brought in. He was involved in an… altercation at a bar. We need someone to sign his discharge papers before he can leave.”

The knot of anxiety loosens slightly, but in its place comes a flare of exasperation. Of course. A bar fight? You rub at your eyebrow, closing your eyes.

You’ve done everything possible to create distance between you and this man, and still, somehow, he finds a way to pull you back in.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

You snap out of your thoughts and clear your throat. “Yes—sorry. I’ll be there shortly.”

Hanging up, you let out a sharp breath. Why do you keep doing this? Even though you tell yourself you’re just being a good person, there’s a part of you that knows better… that secretly wonders if you’re glad for an excuse to see him again.

You straighten up and head back to the living room where Mateo is lounging, and his eyes shift to you expectantly.

“¿Quién fue?” (Who was it?)

“The hospital downtown. Javier’s been injured and I need to go help him.” You move around the room, grabbing your things.

You feel the shift in the air when he mutes the television and stands, his brows furrowing. “Javier? Your neighbor? The one who nearly ruined our first date?”

You pause, bending to put on your shoes, catching the sharp edge in his tone.

“Yeah,” you admit, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m listed as one of his emergency contacts, so…”

His body language shifts into something more rigid. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“What do you mean?” 

“My girlfriend is being called out in the middle of the night to pick up some malparido who’s clearly into her. That’s what I mean.”

The snort that escapes you is involuntary. “You’re being ridiculous. We’re just friends.” Barely that anymore, you think. That word feels like a fragile label for whatever exists—or existed—between you and him. But Mateo doesn’t need to know the messy, complicated details.

You’ve deliberately kept it that way to avoid exactly what’s happening now.

“Friends,” he repeats, the word heavy with doubt. “No me gusta.” (I don’t like it)

“It’s a good thing I don’t need your permission.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“You don’t see how strange this is?”

You let out a breath, straightening your posture as you meet his gaze. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mateo. All I have to do is sign his discharge papers and call him a cab home. That’s it.”

“It’s not your responsibility. He’s not your responsibility.”

You blink at him, taken aback slightly. He’s always been steady, easygoing, and this possessive edge is new—unwelcome. Jealousy, you realize. You understand it to a degree, but it makes you wary.

“I know that—”

“You don’t see me playing knight-in-shining-armor for some random woman I barely talk to anymore.”

“Javier is not just some random guy—”  You cut yourself off with an exasperated sigh, hating how defensive you sound, feeling uncomfortable with the turn this conversation has made.

Mateo’s expression darkens, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Exactly,” he mutters bitterly. “He’s not some random guy. Y ese es el problema ¿no?” (And that’s the problem, isn’t it?)

You can feel the heat rising in your face, a mix of anger and guilt twisting in your gut. “We’re just friends.” You reiterate, trying to sound as resolute as possible. “You can believe that or not, but it’s the truth,” you retort, ending your side of this argument before grabbing your bag from the entryway table.

“Are you coming or not?” you ask without looking back.

There’s a long, agonizing pause that makes your heart pound in your ears. For a moment, you think he might refuse, that he might dig his heels in and escalate this further. But then he just sighs, shuffling to gather his own things.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

The nurse ushers you through a brightly lit hallway and into a larger room lined with hospital beds, each one partially hidden by flimsy curtains that do little to offer privacy. At the very end, you spot Javier.

He’s perched on the edge of a bed, his broad shoulders slumped forward. His arm is wrapped in gauze, a deep gash on his eyebrow held together with fresh stitches. His lip is swollen and split, a constellation of bruises littering his face, one eye swollen shut.

He looks like he’s been through hell.

“Javier, oh my god!” Your voice comes out squeakier than you intended as you rush toward him. You stop short, your hands hovering awkwardly in the space between you, instinct screaming to pull him into a hug. But the injuries hold you back.

Even with the ache radiating through his body, the sound of your voice and the sight of you standing there softens the edges of his pain, offering a brief, soothing reprieve. He can’t believe you actually came.

“What happened?” You ask, your voice cracking with worry despite your efforts to keep it even.

Javier looks up at you, his gaze glassy but warm, a tired smirk tugging at the corner of his injured mouth. “Guys talkin’ shit at the bar,” he mutters, his voice raspy and slightly slurred. “I’m fine.”

He doesn’t mention how he courted the violence, drunk and bitter, until it exploded into a fight he couldn’t win. Three guys dragged him outside, taking turns landing blows.

The shameful truth is, he relished the pain. It was sharp, tangible—more real than the numbness he’d been drowning in with booze and meaningless sex. 

It was a culmination of all the bad decisions, every scar his job had etched into his soul, and the emptiness he couldn’t seem to escape.

“You are not fine, Javier,” you snap, your frustration spilling over as you gesture to the mess of bruises and bandages covering him. “You got the shit beat out of you.”

That earns you a low chuckle, though it quickly morphs into a wince as he presses his uninjured hand lightly to his ribs. “Always so dramatic,” he teases, his gaze sweeping over you. “You look good.”

Your cheeks warm despite yourself. How he’s able to be a flirtatious bastard all the time is lost on you. You cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” He grins wider, which only makes him wince again. “That’s why I’m laughing.”

You let out a sharp breath, your emotions roiling—frustration, worry, and relief that he’s fine.

“I handled everything up front,” you say firmly, needing to regain control. “We just need to go outside and wait for your cab.”

Javier’s expression falters, his brows pulling together. “You’re not coming back home with me?”

The casual way he says it makes your stomach flip. You bite the inside of your cheek, choosing your next words carefully. “I’m going home with Mateo. He drove me here.”

For a moment, Javier is quiet. Too quiet. You watch as his body stiffens, his bruised jaw clenching tightly.

“He’s here?”

“Yes,” you reply as you shift your weight from one foot to the other, dropping your arms to your sides. “He’s waiting in the lobby.”

Javier swears he’s never sobered up so fast.

The urge to tear through the room rises, and he almost gives in to the intrusive thoughts, but instead, he tamps it down, the only outward sign being the sharp scowl twisting his swollen, beaten features.

“Couldn’t leave him at home?”

“Excuse me?” Your brows shoot up.

“I don’t need an audience for this.”

“An audience? He’s my boyfriend, Javier. Of course he’s here. This isn’t even about him,” you’re feeling déjà vu from your argument earlier.

No one really prepares you for how dramatic relationships can be.

“This is about you—about you acting out and dragging me into it. You show up at my place drunk, claiming you miss me after ditching me for months, fall asleep at my door like I’m some kind of lifeline for you. You pull me in so many different directions, and it’s exhausting.”

Javier’s mouth opens like he’s about to fire back, but then he deflates. The irritation in his eyes dims, replaced by something that looks a lot like regret.

“I don’t know how else to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You roll your eyes, looking away from him, partially relieved that Mateo wasn’t allowed back here, or this confrontation would have spiraled into something much uglier.

“Try by being sincere. Every time you apologize it feels like you’re only doing it to save your own ass.”

“Because I was. For the longest time.” He admits, gingerly slipping off the bed, slowly walking over to you and you swallow harshly as the distance between you decreases. “Then I realized how much I took you for granted and I’ve been falling apart since.”

Why does he have to make everything so complicated? Why does the apology you’ve craved for months suddenly feel like the hardest thing you’ve had to hear?

You cross your arms over your chest again, trying to create some kind of barrier between you and the honesty radiating off him. You don’t even know what to say.

Javier inches closer, his voice softening further. “I’m sorry for treatin’ you like shit and for being a terrible friend. I just... I need you to know that I really mean that, and I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you… if that’s something you even want from me anymore.”

You look at him then, really look at him—the bruises, the stitches, the exhaustion lining his face. There’s no wall of deflection in his eyes this time, no trace of the usual excuses he uses like armor. Just unguarded sincerity.

You rub your temple, trying to soothe the headache forming.

“I appreciate your apology,” you finally manage to find your voice. “And that you recognize what you’ve done wrong. But it’s going to take more than just words to fix this.”

The admission feels dangerous, like opening a door you’re not sure you’ll be able to close.

Is it even a good idea to let him try to fix this? The memory of the argument earlier replays in your mind, and you know without a doubt there will be more fights like it if you allow Javier back into your life.

Mateo made his feelings about him abundantly clear.

But beyond your boyfriend’s disapproval—and that glaring red flag of jealousy you haven’t entirely processed yet—there’s the deeper question: can you handle this? Can you handle being just friends with Javier? The last time you tried, it nearly destroyed you.

And if he does follow through? If he becomes the person you’ve wanted him to be this entire time? That might be worse, because you don’t know if you’ll be able to keep your feelings in check.

The storm of thoughts threatens to overwhelm you, so you silence them, focusing instead on the immediate task: getting him home safely.

Javier’s expression softens at your words. Relief flickers in his eyes, subtle but unmistakable. “I know. I’ll be better.”

You let out a heavy sigh, toying with the pendant around your neck as you try to ground yourself. “Come on,” you say after a beat, resigned. “Let’s get you out of here.”

He follows you out of the room, each step betraying just how much pain he’s in.

When you step into the waiting room, Mateo is standing by the entrance, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His dark eyes sweep over Javier, taking in the full extent of his injuries, before landing on you.

There’s no mistaking the irritation simmering beneath his calm facade.

Javier straightens despite the visible discomfort it causes him, his sore muscles screaming at him. His dark gaze meets Mateo’s, and for a moment, the two men size each other up.

You can practically hear the things they’re not saying. Mateo’s scorn is written all over his face—This is the guy? The one who’s causing all this bullshit? And Javier’s defiance is just as clear—Yeah, I’m the guy. What are you going to do about it?

“Mateo,” you say, your voice cutting through the charged silence, “this is Javier.”

“I remember.” Mateo’s tone is clipped, his eyes narrowing slightly as they linger on Javier’s injuries. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.”

“Let’s wait for the cab outside.” You quickly add, anything to keep these two and their manly, dick measuring competition at bay.

As you lead the way, the two men follow like a shadow, heavy and unavoidable, their stares burning into your back.

“Oh—I forgot to grab your meds. Wait here,” you quickly pivot back toward the sliding glass doors before either of them can protest.

The moment you’re out of earshot, Mateo takes a step closer to Javier, his gaze hard and unyielding. “No sé cuál es tu obsesión con mi mujer,” (I don’t know what your obsession with my girl is) he begins to confront him, “but that shit ends tonight. Basta con estas tonterías de ser contacto de emergencia o de andar con ella, fingiendo ser su amigo. I can see right through you.” (No more of this emergency contact bullshit or hanging around her pretending to be her friend)

Javier’s jaw tightens, and a muscle twitches in his cheek. He’s already had his ass handed to him once tonight, but the temptation to go another round—this time with Mateo—is almost too good to resist.

He tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah? Then maybe you should be the one hittin’ the road,” he retorts, his tone like gravel. “Keepin’ her locked up at your place like she’s some fuckin’ doll that doesn’t have a life of her own to live. Eso no es amor, es control.” (That’s not love, that’s control)

Mateo snorts, a humorless sound that sets Javier’s blood boiling. “Locked up?” he echoes, his lips curling into a sneer. “Le doy todo lo que necesita. Está feliz conmigo—ya no es el desastre que era cuando andabas por aqui. Cree que no me doy cuenta, pero no soy idiota. Desde que desapareciste de la faz de la tierra, está contenta. No necesito que regreses y me lo arruines. Stay the fuck away from her.” (I give her everything she needs. She’s happy with me —no longer the upset mess she was when you were around. She thinks I don’t notice, but I’m not an idiot. Ever since you dropped off the face of the earth, she’s been content. I don’t need you coming back and ruining it for me)

The words hit Javier harder than any punch he took earlier that night. He knows there’s some truth to them. Hell, he’s been kicking himself for months over how he left things with you.

But Mateo’s entitled delivery makes his fists clench, his chest puffing out in barely contained fury. It takes every ounce of willpower not to lunge forward and break his fucking nose.

Before either of them can escalate the situation further, you reappear, a white paper bag in hand. You stop short, glancing between them, your brows furrowing at their postures.

“Instructions are on the bag,” you say, handing it to Javier. “Your cab should be here any minute.”

Javier takes the bag, his eyes darting to you briefly before landing back on Mateo. His fists relax slightly, but his shoulders remain rigid.

You shift uncomfortably, the atmosphere heavy and you wonder what you just walked in on. 

Mateo steps closer to you, sliding his hand into yours and pulling you to his side. You let it happen, not fully grasping that this isn’t just affection—it’s a display of dominance. He’s making a point, staking his claim on you in front of Javier.

Javier notices. Of course he does. It burns him up inside, but he bites down on the simmering anger, knowing now isn’t the time to say anything. He’s just been given a sliver of hope to fix things with you, and he’s not about to jeopardize it by getting into it with your asshole boyfriend.

Moments later, the cab pulls up to the curb. Javier exhales slowly, steeling himself as he moves toward the car. He tries not to wince as he slides into the backseat, his body protesting every movement.

“I’ll see you around,” you tell him softly, still standing at Mateo’s side. His arm has snaked around your waist now, and Javi’s stomach twists at the sight.

He doesn’t respond, just nods, his expression unreadable. The door closes, and as the cab pulls away, Javier’s head falls back against the headrest.

He knows this isn’t going to be easy. Fixing things with you, proving he’s deserving of your friendship—it’s going to take a lot of fucking effort.

A nagging doubt then creeps in: has he set himself up for failure?

The room is stifling, the warm glow of the desk lamp barely cutting through the haze of cigarette smoke and exhaustion. Papers are strewn across the table, maps, routing numbers, and satellite photos spread out like the world's most maddening puzzle.

Javier leans back in his chair with his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose while Trujillo flips through pages, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“I keep seeing the same routing number attached to some of these shipments,” Steve mutters, ashing his cigarette into an overflowing tray. He leans forward, his tone carrying a spark of determination. “Something’s telling me we should check it out.”

It feels like it’s been months of running after ghosts while Escobar and his men continue to outpace them. “Half of these are fake accounts set up to throw us off,” Javi states. “Even if there’s drug money in ‘em, they don’t give a shit. It’s collateral. They’ll make that back in days.”

“It’s still worth checking out,” Steve counters, unbothered by his partner’s irritation. He taps the paper. “Could be our needle in this fucked-up haystack.”

Javier exhales heavily, rolling his neck like he’s trying to shake off the weight of his own weariness. He has no desire to chase another dead end tonight. “You handle it. I’ll stay here with Trujillo, see if we can find another angle.”

Steve shrugs, already slipping on his coat. “Fine by me. Need some fresh air anyway. Smells like ass in here.”

Trujillo snorts, his laughter muffled behind his fist, but Javier doesn’t even crack a smile. His focus is already back on the satellite photos sprawled across the table—grainy images of the barrios where Escobar’s operations are most active.

He traces the outline of one, his coffee mug dangling precariously from his other hand, its contents spiked with enough liquor to numb the ache of his lingering injuries.

The hours stretch thin, blending into each other, the occasional sound of shuffling papers or Trujillo’s half-snore the only break in the silence. Javier barely notices, remaining focused to find anything that could give them the upperhand.

When Steve returns, the sound of the folder slamming onto the table jolts Trujillo awake. He blinks blearily, mumbling something incoherent, while Javier looks up, his expression more bored than curious.

“What’d you find?” he asks, his tone flat, tired.

“Open it,” Steve says, a sly edge in his voice.

Javier grabs the folder with little enthusiasm. But the moment his eyes land on the photo inside, his entire body stiffens. His jaw tightens, and his chest constricts as a surge of panic bolts through him.

It’s Mateo.

Steve keeps talking, his words distant and muddled as Javier stares at the picture. “Just like that account is attached to the shipments, he’s attached to the account. The bank he works at is owned by some powerful and shady people. I’m almost certain he’s on Escobar’s payroll. At this point—who isn’t?”

The rest of Steve’s explanation fades into background noise as Javier processes what this means.

For months you’ve been involved with someone who has ties to one of the most dangerous men in the world.

It can’t be a coincidence. Mateo sought you out. You work at the American embassy—not in a high-ranking position, but enough to get the attention of the wrong people.

That night at the hospital… it wasn’t just jealousy. It wasn’t just him ‘staking his claim’, telling Javi to stay away. Mateo knew. He knew that if Javier got too close, he’d find out.

Now all of the violence, the lies, the endless cycles of chasing men like your boyfriend have spilled over into your life, staining the one good thing he’s tried to keep untouched.

“Javier.” Steve snaps his fingers in front of his face, jolting him back to the present.

“What?”

Steve narrows his eyes. “What do you think we should do?”

Javier exhales through his nose, rubbing his lips together as he stares down at the photo again. His mind is already spinning with strategies, balancing the need to act against the risk of tipping Mateo off too soon.

Then he thinks about how you’ll react when he tells you. He knows you’ll need more than just his word. He’ll need proof. Otherwise, you’ll think he’s doing this just to sabotage your relationship.

“Tail the guy,” he finally says, his voice steadier now. “Follow him around, gather intel. We need to be sure we’re not just jumping the gun because it fits the narrative we want it to fit.”

Steve nods, but Javier barely notices. His only priority now is making sure that you remain safe while they think of a plan to bring this man in. 

“Cariño, hold up.” Javier’s voice cuts through the cool night air as he jogs toward you. You’re halfway to the entrance of Mateo’s building, keys in hand, when you stop and turn, startled to see him.

“Javi?” Your brows furrow, confusion flickering across your face as you take in his familiar figure—black button-up shirt, jeans, and those scuffed boots that have somehow become as much a part of him as the shadows he carries. “What are you doing here?”

Things between you two aren’t as strained as they were, but they’re far from how they used to be. Those easy conversations and shared meals feel like a distant memory, replaced by brief, polite interactions at work and the occasional glance that lingers too long.

At least you’re acknowledging that he exists again.

Javier hasn’t pushed, though. He’s been careful, letting things progress naturally, giving you space while silently yearning for the warmth you once offered so freely.

But right now, his usual restraint is gone. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to tell you.” He glances around the semi-populated area then gently takes your elbow, guiding you away from the open street to a nearby alleyway.

Your heart sinks. You don’t know what he’s about to say, but the hardened look in his eyes tells you it’s not good. “What’s wrong?”

He reaches behind him, pulling out a stack of folded papers he had tucked into the back of his jeans. He holds them out to you, his expression unreadable, as if bracing for impact. “Mateo is working for Escobar,” he says bluntly.

For a moment, all you can do is blink at him, your mind scrambling to process. Slowly, you take the papers, your hands trembling slightly as you unfold them. 

The photos hit you first: Mateo in various locations, surrounded by men you don’t recognize. Beneath the images are detailed reports, routing numbers, bank transactions—a web of evidence you don’t want to believe.

“I’m sorry—what?” You let out a laugh, but it’s strained and hollow, a defense against the disbelief clawing at your chest. “Are you serious?”

“The bank he works at launders money for Escobar’s operations,” Javier explains, his voice steady but tense. “Fake accounts, hidden transfers, branches overseas—he’s tied to all of it. We’re building a case now, but—”

“Stop.” You cut him off, shoving the papers back into his hands. Your head shakes instinctively, refusing to entertain the possibility. “No. No way. Mateo would never. He’s always talking about how much he hates those men, how they’ve ruined this country. He wouldn’t work for them, Javi. He hates them. And honestly? I’m kind of hurt you’d even accuse him of this.”

The man Javier is describing—some slimy criminal playing a dangerous game with the cartel—doesn’t resemble the Mateo you know, the Mateo you’ve spent nearly a year forcing yourself to feel something for. And now that some feelings are sticking, here comes Javier with this metaphorical anvil, dropping it right over your head.

Your brain scrambles, frantically searching for some explanation that could make it all untrue.

You’ve seen his disgust at the violence that plagues this country, the way his jaw tightens when the news shows another bombing or assassination. You’ve heard his impassioned speeches about wanting to see real change, about how the corruption needs to end for there to be any hope.

Your chest tightens as the thoughts contort inside you: What if you’re wrong? What if Mateo’s perfect facade is just that—a facade? It feels impossible, a cruel betrayal by the universe itself.

Because if it’s true, then you’ve let yourself fall for a lie. And you’re not sure how you’ll cope with the weight of that.

Javier’s face hardens, his frustration nipping at him. He says your name firmly. “This isn’t about some petty rivalry. I’m not making this up. It’s real. He’s dangerous.”

But you shake your head again, denial eclipsing reason. “You’re wrong. This is just…” You exhale sharply, the words tangled on your tongue. “It’s absurd. You don’t like him, so now you’re trying to drag him into this?”

A flicker of pain crosses his face at your lack of acceptance, but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by sheer exasperation. “This has nothing to do with how I feel about him,” his voice rises slightly before he reins it in.

He steps closer, his hands gently gripping your forearms to stop you from walking away. “I’m not lying to you. You have to trust me. Mateo isn’t who you think he is.”

“Much like you, right?” The words escape before you can stop them, cutting deep and twisting in the space between you.

His jaw twitches. “Cariño, por favor—”

“Let go, Javi.” Your voice wavers, but your resolve doesn’t.

He wants to shout, to demand you reconsider, to tell you how these things usually end. But he doesn’t. The thought that you’re safer because of your government ties is the only thing keeping him in check.

He stares at you for a long moment, his grip loosening before he finally lets go. “Fine,” he says, “don’t believe me. But you’ll see soon enough. Just…” He swallows hard, “be smart. Be safe. If something happens to you…”

He trails off, looking down, his thoughts drifting elsewhere. You don’t know about the ghosts that haunt him, but you can see the weight of them now, heavy in the lines of his face. “Por favor, cuídate.” (Please take care of yourself)

You straighten your shoulders, masking the turmoil inside with a veneer of indifference. “I’ll be fine. Goodbye, Javi.”

Turning away, you walk back toward the building without a backward glance. Your steps are steady, but your chest feels hollow, your mind buzzing with too many thoughts to make sense of any of them.

Behind you, Javier stands in the shadows of the alley, watching until you disappear through the doors of the building.

His hands curl into fists at his sides, frustration and dread curling in his gut.

What happened earlier with Javier clouds your line of thinking as you lie naked beneath the silk sheets of Mateo’s bed, his lips lazily dragging across your shoulder before finding their way to your mouth, kissing you passionately.

“Join me in the shower?” He mutters, his large hand massaging your thigh before it trails up to cup your breast. 

You offer him a tight-lipped smile, hoping it disguises the unease you’re beginning to feel. “Yeah, just give me a second and I’ll be there.”

He doesn’t think anything of it, kissing you again before slipping out of bed. You listen as the bathroom door shuts and wait for the faint hiss of water hitting the tile.

Wrapping the sheet around yourself, you rise quietly, your pulse pounding in your ears. The small voice in your head that’s screaming at you to stop is drowned out by the rush of adrenaline as you start rifling through his belongings.

Nothing stands out—just the neatly arranged trappings of his life, curated to look perfect. But perfection doesn’t leave room for secrets.

If he’s hiding something, it wouldn’t be here. Your gaze shifts to the hallway where the closed door of his office is.

Tiptoeing down the corridor, you push the door open and slip inside, the sheet still wrapped tightly around you. 

The air in here feels heavier, like the room itself is holding its breath. You move quickly, sifting through drawers and shelves, your heart a riot in your chest as you search for something—anything—to prove or disprove Javier’s accusations.

Then you find it: a loose bottom in one of the desk drawers. Your fingers fumble as you pry it open, and there it is—a leather-bound ledger, hidden away like a dirty secret.

You bite your lip, hesitating for just a moment before flipping through it. Familiar initials, dates, and sums that match too closely with what Javier showed you earlier. Names you’ve heard on the news, men associated with violence and destruction.

Your stomach turns as the realization washes over you—Javier was right.

You’re so caught up in the revelation, that you don’t hear when Mateo curiously cuts his shower short after you failed to join him, padding down the hallway until he’s at the door of his office, catching you red handed with the ledger in your possession.

“What the hell are you doing?”

His voice slices through the air like a whip, and you flinch, clutching the damning item to your chest. Turning slowly, you meet his glare, the heat of his anger so palpable it makes your skin prickle.

“What is this, Mateo?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, heat flooding your face, panic building at the base of your spine.

He steps into the room, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulders, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Why the fuck are you going through my things?”

“You need to explain yourself right now,” you demand, though your hands tremble. “Or else—”

“Or else what, lindura?” His voice drips indignation as he closes the space between you in an instant. “You gonna call your friend at the DEA? Snitch on me?”

Before you can answer, he crosses the room in two long strides. The ledger is ripped from your grasp, and his hands are on you, shoving you roughly against the wall. Your cheek presses against the cool surface, and he yanks your arms behind your back, his grip on your wrists unrelenting.

The cool silk of the sheet clings to your skin, but it does nothing to shield you from the shame burning through your body. His breath, hot and sharp with fury, ghosts over your ear as he leans in close. “You had no right to go through my things.”

“You lied to me,” you spit back, struggling against his grip. “You’re working with those monsters—you’re just like them!”

He laughs bitterly, the sound lacking humor. “You don’t know shit about how this works.” He presses harder, keeping you pinned. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand enough to know what you are,” you hiss, your voice breaking. “That ledger proves everything. The accounts, the shipments—everything Javi said was true.”

At the mention of Javier, his grip tightens painfully, and you let out a soft gasp. “Javier.” The way he spits the name sends a shiver down your spine. “Of course, this is about him.”

“You’re deflecting,” you accuse, though your body betrays you, trembling against the wall. “If you’re innocent, explain it to me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Mateo lets out another harsh, humorless laugh. “Wrong? Wrong?” He releases one of your wrists, only to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing your head back until your neck strains and you wince. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong? You’ve put both of us in danger.”

“I’m not the one working with murderers!” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “You lied to me, Mateo. You’ve been lying this whole time.”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he might actually hurt you. Instead, he yanks you back from the wall and spins you around to face him, his hold on you still bruising.

“This world isn’t all black and white like you think it is. People like me—we do what we have to, to survive.”

“Survive?” you repeat, disbelief lacing your words. “You chose this. You chose to work for men who ruin lives, who destroy families. You’re just as bad as they are. You’re profiting off the misery and destruction of others. That’s not survival—that’s greed.”

Mateo’s face twists with fury, his hand flying up like he’s about to strike, and you brace yourself for the hit, but he stops himself, his chest heaving.

For a moment, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths.

He steps back, releasing you abruptly, and you stumble, clutching the sheet tightly against you.

“You know too much. I can’t risk you running off telling them everything, especially if they’ve already been tipped off. Fuck!” He swipes at his desk, sending a glass trinket flying and shattering against the hardwood floor. 

You try not to let fear swallow you whole, but it’s hard not to—especially when you know how brutal these things can end.

You remain silent, watching Mateo pace the room with a towel wrapped around his hips, not daring to say anything because you don’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger again.

He doesn’t let you leave his apartment for three long days, the hours stretching endlessly under his watchful gaze.

Being held in his penthouse—perched high above the city like a gilded cage—only amplifies the suffocating isolation.

The thought of trying to escape crosses your mind repeatedly, but you know better. Running would make things worse. Right now, staying put and waiting for Javier to come through is your best, and only, option.

You can’t stop replaying the moment he tried to warn you, the worry etched into his face, the edge of desperation in his voice.

You’d brushed it all off, blinded by your need to believe Mateo was different. That he could be something good. 

You should have listened to him. 

Now you see the truth. He wasn’t special; he was just another man playing a role. You hate yourself for letting your heart cloud your judgment so easily.

Calling in sick to work is a delicate operation. Mateo looms nearby, arms crossed, glaring at you as you speak to your supervisor. You carefully mask the tremor in your voice, saying all the right things to ensure no suspicions are raised.

He keeps his own phone calls confined to the balcony, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish that’s too muffled and too quick for you to decipher. You strain to catch even a few words, pressing your ear to the glass, but it’s futile. The conversations are long, tense, and only heighten your paranoia.

You’re not sure what his plan is, but since the initial explosion of anger and aggression when he caught you with the ledger, he’s been disturbingly composed.

His calmness is almost off putting. 

He finally approaches you one evening, the sun dipping low behind him, his voice is unnervingly steady. “You can go.”

You blink, sure you’ve misheard him. “What?”

“You’re not a threat. Too low-level for anyone to care about. By the time you’re home, I’ll be gone.”

His nonchalance unsettles you, and you hesitate as he disappears down the hall. When he returns, he’s carrying your shoes and bag, as though this were a casual parting.

“So that’s it? You’re just letting me leave after keeping me here like a hostage?”

“I had to make sure everything was in place first,” he explains. “I couldn’t have you running your mouth before things were handled.”

His packed suitcase in his closet flashes in your mind, along with his endless phone calls. Maybe he really is more worried about disappearing than dealing with you.

But the cartel doesn’t let loose ends walk away. Your heart pounds as you weigh whether this sudden freedom is genuine—or a trap.

You slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder, the need to escape drowning your caution. Still, you pause, unable to shake the uneasy feeling settling in your bones.

“What?” Mateo’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “You don’t believe me? Want me to drop you off myself?” He steps toward you, and you instinctively retreat.

“Why were you even with me?” you ask, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “Was it my job?”

He tilts his head, his gaze cold and calculating. “No,” he replies, his tone devoid of emotion. “I was attracted to you. Then you mentioned your job, and I figured, why not? But you turned out to be useless for that. Didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the perks—companionship, a warm bed…”

The insinuation in his voice makes your stomach churn. “So you used me.”

“As much as you used me,” he counters, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Your chest tightens and your gaze flits down to the floor. His detached demeanor cuts deeper than any heated argument could. When he says your name, it pulls your attention back to him like a leash.

“Leave.”

The word releases you, your body moving before your mind catches up. Stumbling toward the door, your trembling hands barely manage to turn the lock. The moment it opens, you bolt, refusing to look back.

Your necessities are in your bag, everything left behind purely materialistic.

You know you can’t go back to your apartment. They know who you are now, and no matter how insignificant Mateo says you are, you can’t risk staying. 

Your fingers dig into the strap of your bag as you mentally map out an escape plan. You’ll go straight to Javier. He’ll know what to do. He’ll keep you safe.

Upstairs, Mateo leans against the window, the burner phone pressed to his ear. “Ya se fue,” (She’s gone) he says, his tone devoid of emotion. “Hagan lo que quieran con ella, pero no le disparen.” (Do whatever you want with her—just don’t shoot her)

Javier has been restless all night, unable to shake the weight of worry that had clung to him since returning from his assignment in Medellín.

The information about your sudden “illness” hadn’t sat right with him. Too convenient, too vague. He hadn’t pressed his team tailing Mateo for more than the facts—they’d seen nothing suspicious—but the absence of evidence did little to calm him.

So when the muffled sounds outside his door reach him, he’s on his feet in seconds.

He swings open the door to find you struggling to unlock yours, your entire body trembling as you fumble with your keys. Relief washes over him so suddenly, it nearly buckles his knees. “You’re okay.”

The second his voice cuts through the silence, something inside you begins to break. It’s soft, concerned, carrying a weight of relief that only makes you feel heavier.

The ache that has swallowed your body whole now reaches your chest, blooming into something sharper. You feel like crumbling right there in the hallway, letting the floor catch you because you don’t think you can hold yourself up for much longer.

This pain is a hum that pulses through your entire being, dull in some places, jagged and relentless in others. It numbs you in strange ways, yet it’s all you can feel, consuming every fragile thread of strength you have left.

You don’t even know how you made it back, how your trembling legs carried you through shadowed alleys and along dimly lit streets. Survival instinct? Perseverance?

It all happened so fast.

You stepped off the bus from Mateo’s place, unaware of the storm waiting to meet you. A few minutes of walking was all it took. They came out of nowhere, grabbing you roughly and dragging you into the shadows. Two of them—large, brutal—landed punches and kicks like you were nothing more than a punching bag.

The pain blurred into one endless wave, but their words cut even deeper. They spoke mockingly, almost laughing, about assaulting you in ways that made you wish they would just pull a gun out and end it all right there.

When you finally fell limp under their blows, you heard one of them mutter something. A boot nudged your side—testing, checking—but they didn’t bother to confirm. No pulse, no breath. Just assumptions. They left you there like discarded trash, their shadows disappearing into the night.

It took minutes, maybe hours, before you could even think about moving. You waited, your breath catching on sharp pains that confirmed what you feared—broken ribs.

The air burned in your lungs, and your head spun so violently, it was hard to tell if you were standing or lying down.

Eventually, with no other choice, you dragged yourself upright, ignoring the protests of your battered body.

The world tilted as you took your first step, and then another. Every ounce of strength you had went into putting one foot in front of the other.

When you finally reached your apartment door, you were shaking so hard it was nearly impossible to hold your keys.

Trembling hands fumbled with the lock, missing again and again. Your vision swam, blurring the keyhole into an indistinct smudge.

And then there’s Javier.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him. He says your name, but you don’t respond, your focus locked on the useless, agitating hands that can’t seem to do anything right. How could you possibly move on from this?

You’re just standing here, struggling to breathe, struggling to exist, as the weight of everything presses harder and harder on your broken soul.

His relief is short-lived. Something’s wrong.

The second his voice reaches you, your whole body seems to collapse inward. You clutch the door frame for balance, your breathing ragged.

Javier’s stomach twists as he takes in your state—your disheveled hair, the cuts on your hands, the way your shoulders slump as if the weight of the world has been dropped on them.

He steps closer. “Hey,” he says softly yet firmly. “Look at me. Mirame.”

You don’t. Your head shakes faintly, and the motion makes you wince.

It’s not purposeful ignoring; you’re hurt. He notices it now, the stiffness in the way you hold yourself, the shallow rise and fall of your chest like every breath is a struggle. His jaw clenches. What the hell happened to you?

His plea is more urgent now. “Cariño, please. You’re worrying me.”

Your lip quivers, and slowly, you start to unravel—one tear falls, then another, then another until they’re streaming freely down your cheeks.

He can’t hold himself back anymore. In two strides, he’s in front of you, slipping between you and the door, his large frame a protective shield.

Still, you refuse to meet his gaze, your silence loud and barbed.

Javier’s jaw tightens, his hand twitching at his side. It is taking every ounce of restraint not to reach out and cup your face, tilt it upward, make you look at him.

The tension is unbearable, the space between your bowed head and his searching eyes buzzing with unsaid words.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Look at me.”

Finally, you do. And it breaks him.

Your face is battered—one eye nearly swollen shut, a deep gash across your cheek, your lip split, nose still bleeding.

The vulnerability in your gaze hits him like a freight train, and he fights to keep his rage at bay. His nostrils flare, his entire body tensing as red creeps into the edges of his vision.

Every mark on your face feels like a personal attack.

This isn’t the time to lose control—not when you need him steady. Not when you’re crumbling right in front of him. You’re here. You’re alive. And right now, that’s all that matters.

His grip is careful, as though you might shatter beneath his touch, as he gently cradles your face into his hands. “Did he do this to you?” He has to know, though the answer seems to be glaringly obvious.

The sob tears from your throat like a wounded animal’s cry, raw and unrestrained, echoing down the hallway. It shakes you to your core, unraveling the fragile composure you’ve been clinging to.

Before you can hit the ground, Javier is there—solid and unyielding—catching you in his arms and pulling you carefully against his chest then guiding you into his apartment.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice cracking under the weight of his anger and helplessness.

The pain hits you all at once and you cling to Javier like he’s a lifeline, allowing him to move you until you’re sitting on his couch and he’s crouching in front of you.

Through choked cries, you manage, “Two men... they pulled me into an alley and did this.” The words spill out in fragments, each one more pained than the last. Your whole body quivers, and your heart races so wildly that you feel like you’re about to have a heart attack.

“We need to get you to a hospital.” He is woefully underprepared to deal with you in this state, you need proper care and he needs to deal with the fury that’s engulfing him by finding this piece of shit to beat his teeth in for what he’s done to you.

Your eyes widen. “No,” you croak, your voice hoarse from crying. “They’ll know they didn’t kill me. I can’t, Javi. I can’t.”

This is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do–remaining calm and fucking collected right now, suppressing the rage that’s clawing at his chest and threatening to spill out in a way that would terrify you more than you already are.

His mind spirals, circling back to that same godforsaken question: Why does it always come to this? First Helena, now you. This job—this life—it’s a parasite, sucking the light out of anything worth a damn.

Why can’t his penance be his own? Why must it reach everything he loves?

Fuck, maybe Connie knows enough to help you in the time being. If not, he’d find a way to make sure you got the care you needed while flying under the radar.

He’d tear down the goddamn world for you if he had to. Move heaven and hell, break every rule in the book—none of it matters if it means keeping you safe.

He looks at you again, seeing the fear trembling on your lips, and something solidifies within him. No hesitation. No second-guessing.

I won’t let them take anything more from you, he swears silently, his gaze softening despite the storm raging inside him. “I’ll take care of it,” he says aloud, his voice steadier now, resolute.

He starts to rise, intent on getting help, but your hand darts out, catching his wrist with trembling fingers, even though the motion sends a fresh wave of agony through your ribs. “Please,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Don’t leave me.” The sheer terror in your eyes is enough to tear him up from the inside out. 

“Never again.” He promises, reaching over for the phone on the end table with one hand while the other stays on yours, dialing the familiar number.

Javier leans against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed and his jaw tight, listening as Connie explains your injuries.

The words feel like punches themselves—broken ribs, bruises all over your body, stitches across your cheekbone, but nothing that needed immediate intervention.

When he finally forces himself to ask, his voice is gruff, barely above a whisper. “Did they…”

Connie’s face softens, the professionalism in her demeanor giving way to quiet sympathy. “No,” she says firmly, meeting his eyes. “I asked her. I didn’t see any bruising or signs of trauma around her pelvis. She says it didn’t happen, but we won’t know for sure until she gets a kit ran.”

The tightness in his chest doesn’t ease, even with her answer. The mere thought of those men doing that to you has his fists clenching so hard his knuckles ache. His fury simmers low but steady, like a kettle on the verge of boiling over.

He nods curtly, his voice rough with gratitude. “Thanks for coming, Connie. I owe you one.”

She waves him off, already heading toward the door with her medical bag slung over her shoulder. “It’s the least I can do. You make sure my husband gets home safe all the time. Just… make sure she rests, takes the pain meds. No heavy lifting, no unnecessary stress.” She glances back at him, her eyes full of meaning. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

When he closes the door behind her, he exhales slowly, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on his chest. The apartment feels too quiet now, and his eyes drift toward the closed bathroom door where you’re still inside.

He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck before knocking gently. “You good?” he asks, his voice softer than usual, almost tentative.

There’s a long pause before he hears your voice, quiet and weary. “Yeah… you can come in.”

Pushing the door open, Javier steps inside, his boots scraping softly against the tile. The sight of you in the tub stops him cold.

You’re hugging your knees to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around them despite the obvious strain it puts on your ribs. The water is cloudy, tinged slightly pink from where Connie had cleaned your wounds. Steam curls faintly in the air, the room heavy with the scent of lavender soap.

His chest tightens again, a mix of anger and something else entirely. You look so small, so vulnerable, your face drawn with exhaustion and pain. Your head tilts slightly, your damp hair sticking to your cheeks as you glance up at him, your expression guarded.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m broken.”

Javier’s throat works as he swallows hard, dragging a hand down his face to mask the guilt flashing across his features. “I don’t think you’re broken,” he says finally, his voice rough but steady. “I think you’re strong as hell.”

You huff a soft, humorless laugh, resting your chin on your knees. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

He takes a careful step closer, his hand brushing against the edge of the sink as he leans back against it, his eyes never leaving you. “You survived,” he says quietly, his voice thick with conviction. “That’s strength.”

For a moment, you don’t respond, your gaze fixed on the water as if it holds answers you can’t quite find. Finally, you sigh, your arms loosening slightly from around your knees. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Javier says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The silence stretches between you like a fragile thread until your voice breaks it, soft and raw. “I’m sorry for not believing you.”

Javier’s head snaps up, his expression hardening—not with anger, but with the kind of fierce protectiveness that has become second nature to him. “Don’t,” he says sharply, the words thick with conviction. He shakes his head, his voice softening but no less intense. “Don’t you dare apologize, cariño. None of this—none of it—is on you. This is on men like them, who run through life hurting innocent people for their selfish, fucked-up reasons.”

Your face crumples, and you press your trembling lips together, trying to stave off the tears threatening to spill over again. “I was stupid,” you choke out, the words a blade against your own heart. “I thought—God, I thought he was just going to let me go. He made it seem like… like I was nothing but a minor inconvenience. And then…” Your voice falters, the memories clawing at you, and you shut your eyes tight, forcing a deep breath the way Connie had just taught you.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Seeing you like this does something to Javier that he’s never quite felt before.

He’s seen grief, fear, and pain—hell, he’s caused more than his fair share—but this? This helplessness, this guilt? It’s a hollowing thing, gnawing at his insides with ruthless efficiency.

He thought what happened Helena had broken him, but this is different. This is you. You. And he’s here, but it feels like it isn’t enough.

“What’s going to happen now?” you ask,  barely above a whisper, as though afraid of the answer.

He doesn’t answer right away. His gaze drops to the tips of his boots, jaw tightening. 

The logical answer is simple: those bastards who hurt you should be found, arrested, and thrown behind bars to rot. But he’s not naïve. Justice doesn’t always come cleanly. More often than not, it doesn’t come at all. And the thought of leaving it up to the system? Doing nothing would be more beneficial somehow.

Ever since Connie showed up to treat your wounds, an idea has been gnawing at the back of his mind.

He could visit Berna… one of his more resourceful informants, and get everything he needs to track those motherfuckers down. Handle things his way.

But he can’t tell you that, especially if he decides to follow through with it.

“You’re going to stay with me until I can guarantee that you’re safe,” he says finally. “Or, I can arrange for you to go to a safe house—”

“No.” The word comes sharp and immediate, your eyes snapping open to meet his. Despite the pain radiating through your battered body, you sit up slightly, holding his gaze with surprising resolve. “I’d rather stay here. With you.”

He exhales a long breath, nodding slowly as he scratches at his jaw, considering his next words carefully. “Do you remember that night you got drunk with Maria from HR and almost threw up in my car?”

The memory hits you, sharp and vivid. It was after you and Javier had mended things following the night he stood you up for Helena. You cringe a little at the thought of how self-deprecating you’d been then, how you’d spilled your guts—both figuratively and literally—once you got home.

This unexpected shift catches you off guard. For a moment, the ghost of a smile tries to tug at your lips, though it’s swallowed quickly by the weight of the night. “Yeah,” you murmur. “One of the worst hangovers I’ve ever had.”

Javier chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “Tequila’ll do that…” His voice trails off as he thinks about the confession you’d made that night—about your discomfort in your own skin, your doubts about whether you even belonged here. He remembers how, in return, he’d told you then how much you meant to him, how much this job weighed on his conscience.

“I should’ve told you then. That I loved you.”

The confession rams right into your heart. Tears spill freely, and you bury your face in your arms, your entire body shaking.

As tender and sincere as it is, his profession doesn’t soothe you.

You want to feel comforted, to let his words wrap around you like a shield against the horror of the night, but instead, they do the opposite.

The timing feels wrong, the weight of his love pressing down on wounds too fresh to bear it. It feels like trying to breathe through shattered ribs—too much, too soon, and it hurts more than it heals.

Fuck. shouldn’t have said that—not now, not when you’re at your most vulnerable. He stands frozen for a moment, unsure if he should move closer or stay where he is. His hands grip the edge of the sink so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Finally, you lift your head, your face swollen and red. “Don’t say that just because of what h-happened,” you stammer, your voice cracking. “I don’t need you to feel obligated to feel some type of way because of it.”

“This has nothing to do with what happened tonight,” Javier says firmly, your name falling from his lips. He pushes off the sink, crossing the room to crouch beside the tub.

Neither of you seem to care about your state of undress—it’s not about that. His gaze locks on yours, steady and sure.

“It’s how I’ve been feeling for so long now,” he continues, his voice low but full of conviction. “And I’ve fucked it up so many times along the way when I should have just been honest. But I was so scared—scared of hurting you, of not being able to give you all of me. Of not being the man you deserve.”

You blink at him, your mind swimming in the gravity of his words.

They hit you like waves, powerful and unrelenting, pulling you under even as you struggle to stay afloat in this overwhelming moment.

Javier loves you. Despite the scars he carries, despite his mistakes, he’s offering you a truth that feels too big to hold right now. It’s not just one-sided; it never has been, and that realization aches in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“Javi…” you whisper his name, a sigh that escapes like a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

One of your arms unwinds from around your body, trembling as you reach out and rest your hand on his where it clings to the edge of the tub. The warmth of his skin against yours feels grounding, even as everything inside you is unraveling.

His gaze locks onto yours, those soulful brown eyes glinting with hope and desperation under the soft bathroom light. He leans closer, as if every ounce of him is hanging on what you might say next.

“Do you mean that?”

“With all my fuckin’ heart.”

Your heart lurches painfully in your chest, conflicting emotions tearing you apart. “I can’t even begin to fathom that right now,” you admit, your voice breaking.

“And I’m not expecting you to,” he says quickly, his grip tightening on the porcelain edge of the tub. “I just needed you to know. I guess what happened tonight finally put my ass in place. Made me realize how much of a dumbass I’ve been. Te amo, cariño. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. But I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

You want to tell him everything—how you’ve carried feelings for him from the very first day you met, how his mere presence lit up spaces you didn’t know were dark. How you’ve loved him in ways that scared you, in ways you tried to push down. But the words stay trapped, locked behind the barricade of pain you’re still trying to process.

“I wish we could have had this conversation before all of this.” Your thumb brushes over the back of his hand in a tentative, instinctual show of affection, and his whole body seems to soften under the touch.

“Me too,” he admits, “But we can’t change the past, as much as we want to. Whatever happens after this… we’ll get through it. Together.” His voice lowers, a quiet promise lingering in the air. “I meant it when I said I’m not leaving you.”

For the first time tonight, you feel a fragile flicker of safety, of something unbroken, even if you’re not ready to hold it just yet.

You nod, biting your lip as tears spill over yet again, and Javier’s hand shifts slightly beneath yours, his fingers brushing against yours in silent reassurance.

For now, that’s enough.

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🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @magneticecstasy . @thundermartini . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @almostfoxglove . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @pigeonmama . @lunatiquess . @piercethevic03 . @theestorm . @myownwholewildworld . @pepsicolacoochie . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @letsmeetintheafterglow . @pasc4lfuzz . @larascorneroftheworld . @marisemonteiroo . @samanthajonees . @yellowbrickyeti . @bambisweethearts . @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack . @picketniffler .

[tinylilacbun]

Rafe x toddler!reader or JJ babysitter x reader. All of readers things have just taken over their cars (stroller, car seats, lovies, pacis, spare clothes, spare diapers) their friends are like wtf why is there so much stuff in your car and they’re trying to play it off but deep down everyone knows it’s because they adore their little princesses.

brother!rafe

The last time Rafe picked up Topper and Kelce to go to a party was a while ago, halting his truck at where he told them he would wait for them to show up.

He turns down his music when the boys climb inside, Kelce getting in the passenger seat while Topper gets into the back, cursing when he almost steps onto one of your calico critters.

"Shit, dude, if I wouldn't know any better I'd think you have three kids with all the stuff here." He points out, looking around and noticing your car seat that has your name stitched on the head piece, a lovey, two pacifiers, and various calico critters scattered around.

"Bro, is this your sister's truck now?" Kelce chuckles, taking a look himself.

Rafe clenches his jaw. "it's called being a good brother, you idiots, and if you don't want to walk to that damn party I suggest you shut the fuck up." He practically growls as he starts the engine again, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Luckily they don't know about the bag under one of the seats that has emergency necessities for you like spare clothes, snacks, all the things for a diaper change.

He would never hear the end of it.

babysitter!jj

Since JJ doesn't have a car and only his dirt bike, he uses the Twinkie for any car rides with you present.

As he starts to babysit you more often the more of your things end up in the van and John B thought it would end with a plushie you forgot once. Oh, how wrong he was...

One time all the pogues are sitting in the Twinkie, JJ holding you securely on his lap as you babble while holding a calico critter in each hand.

"Why does it seem like we adopted her?" Kie asks as she pulls your one plushie from behind her back.

"Based on all the things we found almost everywhere it means she's comfortable and trusts us to-" Pope starts to ramble until Cleo clamps a hand over his mouth, glaring at him when he licks her hand. "I'm just saying, it's a good thing."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? We're just amazing like that, ain't that right, princess?" JJ chuckles, bouncing you as you giggle in response.

[surftrips]

Maybe you could do single dad jj maybank he’s in college and has to do a project with the reader and has to bring the baby with them and they bond and start to hang out a lot then they start to date also maybe she’s a single mom I feel like that would be like a unique thing

thank you so much for this request! i hope you don't mind that i switched it up a bit (and got carried away lol) but reader is the single mom here and her and jj have known each other their whole lives :)

when you know, you know

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: y/n needs a babysitter and jj is the only person available.

word count: 3.5k

"Okay, I understand. Thanks, anyway," you sighed, running your hands through your hair and hanging up the phone. Your babysitter had just canceled on you, and the timing could not have been worse. 

You had been planning this night for months. Between your classes, a part-time job, and taking care of your 2-year-old Margo, it was nearly impossible to schedule anything. But you desperately needed a night out and your friend Emma had so kindly offered to set you up on a blind date. 

You scrolled through your contacts list, looking for anyone that was sober on a Friday night, a seemingly impossible task. Glancing at the time, you realized that you only had an hour left to find a babysitter and get ready. 

As panic set in, you received a text from the P4L groupchat. 

JJ: Wtw tonight?

Not now JJ, you thought. 

Y/N: Trying to find a babysitter, mine just canceled :/

Kie: Oh no, Y/N!! I'm so sorry :(

Cleo: Sorry babes, I totally wouldd but I already lost count of how many drnks I've had 2nite xxx

JJ: Wait, you guys went out already?

Sarah: JJ, we told you it's a girls night.

JJ: In that case, Y/N, I'll watch Margo! 

Absolutely not, was your first thought. JJ Maybank was probably the last person you wanted to take care of your child, he was practically one himself. 

Besides, since you had Margo, he was always acting weird around you. Before, you two would hang out all the time, but now he only saw you if there was another person there as a buffer. He hardly visited or called, but you were so preoccupied with raising a baby on your own that you hadn't had a chance to talk to him about it. 

In the beginning, people assumed it was his baby you were pregnant with, but you never crossed that line because your friendship meant the world to each other. He was the first person you told when you found out you were going to be a mother, and you remember how excited he was for you. It was hard to believe how distant he had become, and you wondered why he had volunteered himself tonight. 

You assessed the situation: you hadn't gone out in nearly two years, and who knew when the next opportunity would be? You sighed, hardly believing the words you were about to type on your phone. 

Y/N: Ok. How soon can you be here? 

Y/N: You better be sober, JJ. 

You turned your phone off before the others could protest, knowing that half of them were drunk anyway. 

"Uncle JJ is going to come over and watch you tonight, okay? Mommy is going to be gone for just a few hours," you said to your daughter, picking her up and placing her in your eye line so you could do your makeup.

"Jay Jay?" she repeated. 

"Yes, honey," you smiled, trying to reassure her, or yourself. Out of all the pogues, Kiara and Sarah babysat Margo the most. She had probably only met JJ a handful of times and you worried about how well she would do with him alone. 

As if he could read your mind, your phone began ringing and you looked over to see his face on your screen.

"JJ, please don't tell me you're canceling too."

"What? Oh, no, it's not that. I was just wondering if you needed me to bring anything for Margo?" 

"Oh," you relaxed. "Hmmm, I think we have everything we need here. But thank you for asking, JJ."

"Of course," you could hear him smiling on the other line. "You know, thanks for letting me watch Margo. I've been meaning to visit her more." 

"JJ, you know you're weren't my first choice," you teased. "But yeah, of course. Thanks, I owe you." 

You hung up the phone, thoughts from earlier creeping back into your mind. You always assumed that the baby scared JJ away, but sometimes you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more going on. 

However, now was not the time for you to be thinking about this, considering that you now had 30 minutes left until your date showed up and you had yet to pick out a dress.

"Hmmmm, let's see. Any suggestions, Margo?" you asked your daughter, combing through your closet for something appropriate. You settled on a short black dress with a boat neck, and black knee high boots to go along with it. 

"What do we think, sweetie?" you smiled at Margo.

"Pretty!" she clapped her small hands together. 

"Why, thank you, baby. Come on, let's go see if Uncle JJ is here yet," you picked her up and checked your phone for any notifications. 

Blind Date: Be there in 5! :)

Crap, you thought. Where is JJ? 

You shot back a confirmation for your date and looked out the window for any sign of JJ. You weren't sure if he was biking over or he had borrowed the Twinkie, but there was no sign of anyone outside. 

Growing anxious, you gathered Margo's favorite toys and books into the living room and tidied up your apartment to pass the time. 

Exactly 5 minutes later, the doorbell rang. You smoothed down your dress and checked your hair in the mirror one last time. Putting on your best smile, you went to open the door. 

"Hi–" you started. "Oh, it's you." 

"Come on, that's what I get for dropping everything and saving your ass?" JJ responded. 

"Sorry, weren't you the one with no plans on a Friday?" 

"You know, I can just turn around right now-" 

"Stop!" you pleaded. "Okay, sorry, I've been anxious about this all day and I just want to get back to Margo as fast as I can." 

"Relax, Y/N. I'm here now," he took in your appearance. "You look great, by the way." 

The last time he saw you remotely dressed up like this was prom night. 

You couldn't help but blush, looking around for Margo to hide your face. "Margo, look who it is!" 

"Jay Jay!" she babbled. 

"Oh my god, she knows my name!" JJ replied, looking a little perplexed. 

"You know what, I'm surprised too considering she's only met you, like, four times," you said. 

"Alright, you're no fun," he looked at you as you traded your daughter over to his arms. "Miss Margo and I here are going to have the time of our lives. Aren't we?" 

He tickled her, causing her to giggle. She seemed so comfortable in his arms, you wondered why you were ever worried in the first place. 

"Thanks again for doing this, I know we haven't talked in a while-" you started. 

"So, where's the lucky guy?" he interrupted you. 

"Uhh," you looked over at the clock. "He said he would be here by now." 

"Late to the first date? That's a red flag, Y/N." 

"As if you're not a walking red flag, JJ. What did you get here on? Your bike?"

"Hey! I refurbished that bike all on my own! It takes a lot of skill to do that."

Just then, the doorbell rang. You rushed to open the door, a smile plastered on your face again. 

"Hey! You must be Emma's friend! I'm Tom." he greeted you with a hug and a bouquet of flowers. "I'm sorry for being late, I went to get these flowers for you and was distracted by the girl scouts selling cookies outside. I had to support them, you know?" 

"Oh, no worries! Yes, how can you say no to them?" you laughed softly. You took the flowers from him and went to place them on the table closest to you, beckoning him to come in.

"Tom, this is one of my friends, JJ. He's babysitting my daughter, Margo, while we're gone," you said.

"Ah! What a pleasure," Tom went over to shake JJ's hand and politely wave at your daughter. "I promise not to keep your mom out too late tonight." 

"That's right, need her back before midnight," JJ remarked.

You playfully pushed him in response, grabbing your keys. "Alright, you have my number so please call me if you need anything. Bye Margo, mommy loves you!" 

With that, you and Tom headed outside and into his car. 

On the drive over to the restaurant, you learned that Tom was a psychologist, he liked to cook, and reality TV shows were his guilty pleasure. At the restaurant, which was a higher-end place near the water, he pulled out your chair for you. 

"I hope this place is okay, I wasn't sure what kind of food you liked so I thought somewhere nicer would be safe," he said. 

"Oh, this is perfect. Don't even worry about it," you smiled. "I haven't had a proper night out in so long, I wouldn't have minded if you took me to a burger joint." 

He laughed, "Margo is adorable, by the way. How old is she?"

"She's 2," you said. Then, feeling the need to clarify, "I had her when I was 20, at the beginning of my junior year in college."

"I see, how was that? How did you manage classes?" You were surprised at his demeanor, half-expecting him to judge you or run in the opposite direction any second now, but his inquisition was genuine.

"Well, I could still go to classes during the first trimester, but it got more difficult after that so I took a leave of absence. I'm taking night classes now because I work in the mornings." 

"Oh nice, what degree are you going for?"

"English, I want to be a teacher," you explained.

"My mom was a teacher," he smiled. "What age do you want to teach?"

"Oh no way! I want to teach elementary school kids. Everyone always tells me how hard it will be, but raising Margo... I don't love anything more than that." 

"That's really sweet, are you close with your family?"

You paused, trying to figure out how to answer the question. "Depends on who you consider my family, I guess," you laughed awkwardly. "I'm not close with my parents, but my friends? Those are the most important people in my life." 

He smiled, "I understand. I'm glad you have a support system, being a single mother can be hard." 

"Yeah, I'm super grateful. Actually, my babysitter for tonight canceled last-minute and JJ came to the rescue. I don't know what I would've done without him." 

Tom's smile faltered for an unnoticeable second. "How long have you known him for?"

"JJ? My whole life, probably. I can't imagine a time when he wasn't by my side. He was there for me throughout my entire pregnancy, but after..." you trailed off.

"After...?"

"Afterwards," you hesitated, not wanting to bad-mouth your friend. "I guess he started to distance himself more, I think Margo scared him away honestly."

"You think it was Margo and nothing else?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean," he sighed. "Do you think there could be any other reason why he would be so supportive of you before and not after you had Margo?" 

"I-I'm not sure. I haven't had much time to think about it, I guess."

"You want my opinion?" Tom asked. You searched his face for any sign of spitefulness, but came up empty. 

"I saw the way he looked at you and Margo, earlier. That boy is not scared of either of you. In fact, all I saw was love. Did you ever think he’s grappling with those feelings?” 

"His feelings? For me?" It was not the first time you thought about it, but it was the first time you heard it verbalized. 

"Yes, I know I sound crazy, but seriously, Y/N, what other reason could there be to explain his behavior?"

You racked your brain for all the possible explanations. Tom had a point, if JJ had feelings for you at some point in your friendship, or still does, he might feel the need to distance himself to protect you. 

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"I told you, I'm a psychologist. I notice these things," he smiled.

"Is this how all of your first dates go?" you laughed.

"Not all of them, but I’ll admit, a few are like this. But tell me, am I wrong to assume there was something more going on between you two before you got pregnant?"

You sighed, "No, you're not wrong. Our feelings for each other were a truth that neither of us wanted to confront. We were young, we didn't want to be tied down, it was college. But he was always there, by my side, through everything. Of course, I loved him." 

"Well, there you go. There's your answer." 

Tom dropped you off around midnight. You assured him that there was no need to walk you to your door, you both knew that you needed to have a conversation with JJ.

"Thank you again for tonight, we seriously need to meet up again," you said, before shutting your door.

"Absolutely, I'll give you the address to my office," he joked.

You turned the key into your door as quietly as possible, in case JJ was also asleep with Margo. Inside, the lights were off and you pulled out your phone flashlight to search for him. 

You went into Margo's room first, seeing that she was fast asleep in her crib. "Hi baby," you whispered. "Where's Uncle JJ?" 

After making sure she was tucked in properly, you turned to go into your bedroom. Sure enough, there was JJ, fast asleep in your bed. 

You couldn't help but smile, recalling memories from high school when you two would have sleepovers. Being sure to keep quiet, you changed into your pajamas and got ready for bed.

Trying your best to not wake up JJ, you pulled open the blanket on your side of the bed and slipped in next to him. 

"Goodnight, JJ," you whispered. 

—

In the morning, you woke up to the smell of pancakes in the kitchen. For a second, you weren't sure you were even in your apartment, remembering that you live alone with Margo and surely, you weren't asleep long enough for her to know her way around the kitchen.

But then you remembered that JJ was babysitting last night and had fallen asleep in your bed before you got home. 

After a long stretch, you got up and went into the kitchen.

"There she is, good morning pretty," JJ smiled at you. 

"Morning... When did you learn how to cook?" you questioned.

"What do you mean? I've always known how to make pancakes."

"Okay, that is just a straight up lie. In high school you would have chips for breakfast."

JJ put his hand to his chest, taking mock offense. "If you must know, I started teaching myself how to cook last year when I moved off-campus." 

"Wow, I must say, I am impressed, Mr. Maybank."

"Please, that's my father. You can call me JJ," he said, causing you both to laugh. 

Were his eyes always this blue? You thought, as you admired his features in the morning light. 

After a moment, you broke the silence. "Uh- I better go check on Margo. How was she last night, by the way?"

"Oh, amazing. Best kid ever." 

"Really? She didn't give you a hard time at all?"

"Nope, must have remembered me from when she was in the womb."

You smiled, turning around to your daughter's room.

Sure enough, Margo was sleeping like the baby she was. You checked the clock, she wouldn't be up for at least another hour.

"Margo's still in one piece?" JJ asked when you reentered the kitchen.

"Yes, somehow,” you mused. 

"Good, want to try these pancakes now?"

"Yes, please, I'm starving," you sat down across from JJ.

"Starving? Your date didn't feed you last night?"

"Very funny, if you want to know about my date, you can just ask." 

"Okay, how was your date?" he relented. 

"He's a psychologist." 

"Cool, anything else?" JJ looked slightly confused. 

"He was very normal and nice," you added.

“I would hope so.”

“Yes, and he likes to cook too.”

“That’s great, how was the date itself?”

“Oh the date itself…” you trailed off. 

"Y/N, why are you acting weird?"

"Weird? Me? I'm just telling you about my date." 

"You're talking about him like he's your therapist."

"Well, in a way, it was like a therapy session."

"So the date went bad?"

"No, it was really nice." 

JJ looked around the kitchen, "Did I accidentally put something in the pancake batter to make you act like this or...?" 

"These are great, by the way," you said, pointing to the pancakes with your fork.

"Thanks, but can we get back to the date?" 

"Oh, yeah, well, basically," you started. 

"Y/N." JJ was rarely ever serious, but he was starting to look concerned with you. 

"Okay, fine. It started off really well, we got to know each other. Then, he was asking about Margo and my family, and I told him about my parents, you know. Then he asked about you, and I told him I've known you forever, but after Margo, you started distancing yourself and we haven't seen or talked to each other in a while, and then-" you rambled. 

"Then what?"

"And then, he told me, or rather he made me realize, that maybe we need to address the feelings we may or may not have had for each other before I got pregnant," you finished in a rush.

JJ was silent, you weren't sure if the expression on his face was scared or bemused. 

"JJ, please say something." 

"Was that all?"

"More or less."

He sighed, "Y/N, I think one of the reasons why our friendship worked so well was because we both knew that at any moment, we could pursue something more, but we didn't. We both knew that doing that would ruin our friendship, something we've had for nearly twenty years. I thought college was going to be four years of partying and distractions, but instead, I had to face reality”

“Distractions?”

“Everyone that wasn’t you was a distraction, in case that wasn’t clear.”

“Uh, no. It wasn't, actually. JJ, you kept telling me you were trying to meet ‘the one!’” 

“Well, I was lying! Okay? You were always the one for me. I just didn’t feel like I was the one for you. So I was stupid and I decided we would be better off as friends, but when you got pregnant…” 

“When I got pregnant…?”

“When you told me about Margo, I panicked. I knew you were strong enough to do this on your own, but you shouldn’t have had to. I told myself that I was going to be there for you every step of the way, and I was, until you gave birth. I saw Margo for the first time, and I-I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Do what, JJ? You know I never needed you to be her father.” 

“I know, I know. I saw her and I couldn’t imagine hurting her. I didn’t want her to know me, because to know me is to be disappointed by me,” he sighed.

“JJ,” you stood up now to wrap your arms around him. “Are you kidding me? I was never, never disappointed by you. I was just worried, babe, that’s all. You stopped talking to me after that.” 

JJ allowed himself to fall into your arms. “I’m sorry, it just felt like too much at the time. I loved- love you and Margo so much, that I didn’t know what to do with all of it. So I thought it was best to give you some space, until I was better.”

You chuckled, “Is that why you taught yourself how to cook?”

“Stop, I was actually starving and had no choice.”

“And are you better now?”

“When I heard you were going on a date, do you want to know what I thought?”

“What?”

“I thought, I let her go again. I let you go a million times in college, and here I am, letting you go again.” 

When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “You’re the one for me, Y/N. I came over here tonight to show you that. I’m ready for whatever this is going to be, whatever this friendship evolves into. I spent too much time denying the truth, and I think you have too.” 

There were not enough words to describe how you were feeling, so you leaned in to kiss your best friend. JJ held your face with such gentleness, you wondered if this was all in your imagination. 

Eventually, you pulled away. “I’m done lying, to myself and to each other. This is real, yes?” you asked.

“Yes, I love you, really.”

“I love you too, Maybank.” 

You leaned in for a second time, but not before you heard the familiar cries of Margo in the other room. 

“Don’t worry, I got it,” he smiled with that boyish grin of his that you loved so much. That you have always loved. 

[starkeysbaby]

I just thought of Rafe with a sleepy gf reader who falls asleep anywhere anytime. His truck, midsummers, party’s, in the middle of a convo. Idk why but I love the concept

omg i absolutley LOVE this concept!

A/N: I APOLOGISE FOR LATE UPLOAD. I HAD MAJOR WRITERS BLOCK, BUT IM BACK NOW!

Sleepy Girl

request are open <33

pairing: rafe cameron x sleepy!reader [est. relationship] 

warnings: none i think lol? [lemme know if you find any]

summary: numerous scenarios of when rafe cameron takes care of his sleepy girl

navigation ⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊˚ ⋅ obx masterlist

in his truck

It had been half an hour since you had told rafe that you were tired before ending the two hour long facetime call you two had been on. It had been half an hour of you trying to get to sleep. Despite being tired, you couldn't manage to fall asleep which was surprising for you as you'd usually be out within minutes after your head hit the pillows. After a few more minutes of struggling you decided to see if rafe was still awake.

*messages with rafe*

About ten minutes later you got a text from rafe saying he was outside. While he would usually come get you himself, at night you told him it'd be best if waits in the car so you guys don't wake your sleeping parents. "Hi beautiful" you heard him say as you got into rafe's truck and put your seatbelt on before he could ask you to. His free hand immediately found it's place on your thigh like it always did during your drives. "Hi, thanks for this" you blushed at his compliment from seconds ago. "Anything for you" he smiled as he started driving with no indication of where he was going. This wasn't the first time the two of you would go on drives when one of you was restless (almost always you) so as usual he would just drive around the obx until you both called it a night.

You continued on your drive having small, random, meaningless but interesting conversations as some random song quietly played through the speakers in the background. As you heard rafe talk about his new project with his dad at cameron development, you couldn't help but smile at him, feeling proud and happy at how much his relationship with his dad has improved and how his attitude towards life in general has changed for the better. The sound of his voice and his thumb rubbing against your thigh lulled you sleep causing rafe to gently pull over and place the blanket he kept in the back over you. He looked over at your sleepy form at a red light and couldn't help but to admire you "love you, my sleepy girl"

at parties (imagine this in a reality where kooks and pouges get along lol)

Kelce had thrown yet another end of school party despite it already being halfway into summer. The teens of the obx were always looking for an excuse to have houseparties, keggers, get togethers, you name it. If it had booze, drugs and people their age, they were down. Not that you were complaining though, you loved having a reason to get all dressed up and spend a night with your best friends and boyfriend. Although you were quite tired today and when vocalising this to rafe and your friends they all replied with something along the lines of "when aren't you". JJ in particular begged you to come and dared you to not fall asleep before 2 am. After a little persuasion and a bet formed between you and jj stating that the loser cleans the others car/bike for the next month, you were down.

At around 1:00 am you all (you, rafe, sarah, kie, cleo, john b, jj, pope, kelce, topper, barry and some other mutual friends) had found yourselves sitting on kelce's rather large balcony alternating between random convos and playing stupid party games such as truth or dare. You were sat in rafe's lap with his arms around you, one of his hands stroking your thigh whilst the other held a beer.

Feeling yourself grow tired you moved your face to bury it into rafe's chest almost forgetting about your bet with jj before you hear barry's voice booming. "YO THORNTON" causing jj to divert his attention away from a clingy kie "looks like mrs country clubs called it a night, pay up" you heard causing you to jolt your head up earning a groan from barry and a chuckle from jj and rafe. "Are you guys betting on me?" you asked putting two and two together. "Hey it's not just us, everyone is, even your boyfriend" jj pointed above you at rafe to get the blame off of himself.

This pulled whatever sleep you had in you away as you sat up and looked at rafe who had a sheepish smile on his face. "Explain" you said staring at rafe. "Well um-" he stuttered earning giggles from kelce and topper who rarely saw rafe at a loss for words "we all bet on who we think is gonna win the bet between you and jj" he explained. "Topper, kelce, john b, and cleo think you're gonna win and kie, barry, pope and sarah think jj's gonna win" he finished. "And you? who do you think is gonna win rafe?" you asked interested to hear his answer.

Some giggles from sarah and john b had you guessing you weren't going to like his answer. "well... baby you know i love you, but my money's on jj" he smiled down at you again with that sheepish smile. "really?" you laughed "you're betting against me?" you fake pouted, not really caring about something so silly. "Sorry baby" rafe laughed kissing your forehead. "Well imma stay up now just so i can see you lose" you smirked up at him "and so i don't have to clean jj's bike for the next month" you added on.

A while later you began to feel sleepy again as you drowned out the conversation between rafe and a few of the others. You looked up at rafe with sleepy eyes and he could swear that he'd never seen anything cuter. "Is it pass two?" you asked him in a pleading voice that had him send a quiet prayer to God that it had passed two so you could stop torturing yourself. He checked his watch, annoyed to see that it was 1:41 am meaning you couldnt sleep for another twenty minutes. Not having the heart to break it to you he just nodded causing you to bury your face into him as you layed against him, sleep immediately taking over you.

He bought his finger up to his lips and looked at everyone else with a death glare, a silent threat to everyone to not ruin it by telling you the actual time or else. He looked back at you sleeping then to jj who had a smirk on his face as he'd just won the bet. Little did jj know that there was no way on earth rafe was gonna let his girl wash jj's bike causing rafe to smirk to himself thinking of how he would deal with jj tomorrow, not caring how annoyed the blonde would get, you won't have to lift a finger. And that money he won from the other bet? He was already planning on how he was gonna take you out with that money and treat you the following day. "goodnight my pretty, sleepy girl" he whispered as he placed one final kiss into the top of your head before resuming his conversation with everyone else.

at midsummers

So far, midsummers had been everything you dreamt and more. You wore a stunning emerald green satin dress which complimented your skin tone and eye colour so beautifully. Your parents were so happy to see you with rafe enjoying midsummers remembering their own first midsummers together whilst the camerons wouldn't stop complimenting you. You had always been family to them being sarah's bestfriend since you both were three but they loved you even more after you started dating rafe.

The hours flew by as you danced with your parents, kie, sarah, wheezie, rafe and a few of your other friends. You even shared a dance with ward as he thanked you for bringing his son back to him. After a while you, kie and sarah went to grab a drink away from your parents hoping to get something alcoholic into your systems. After a while, not many people were left. Your parents had gone home without you once you told them you'd be staying at tannyhill with rafe and sarah tonight. You, kie and sarah were talking when you saw sarah roll her eyes at something behind you before feeling a pair of hands grab your waist. You turned you head to see rafe smiling at you pulling you away from sarah and kie leading you to the dance floor.

A slow song was playing as you both slowly danced to the music with your arms wrapped around his neck and your head was rested against his chest. Rafe's hands stayed at your waist and hips as he moved your body with his bringing his lips down to your ear "have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he whispered. This caused you to giggle "only about a milion times". He chuckled at that and you felt butterflies emerge in your stomach at the rumbles from his chest "well that's not enough, lets make it a million and one" he started before peppering some kisses into your hair "you look gorgeous princess" he finished with one final kiss. You smiled feeling nothing but comfort in that moment in that calm atmosphere "i love you" you whispered earning an "i love you more" from rafe. You continued to dance as you felt your eyes get heavier, sleep taking over you. Rafe also felt your body get heavier as you gave into the sleep leading him to gently carry you to his truck, "let's get you home my sleepy girl"

at a picnic date/mid convo

"oh my god rafe, this is so cute" you beamed at rafe as he took out a little picnic blanket and placed it over the grass "i know, you want some strawberries?" rafe smirked in a cocky tone, proud of himself for coming up with a successful date. "yes please" you said sitting down next to him. As soon as you sat down you felt rafe's arms pull you into his lap and before you could say anything to object, he stuffed a strawberry into your mouth.

You two proceeded to talk about many things going on in the obx particularly your night at midsummers just yesterday. With your head in rafes lap, you looked up at him whilst he sat upright against a tree peering down at you and mindlessly playing with your hair. When rafe started describing his favourite moments from midsummers, trying find a few pictures topper had managed to snap, he heard your hums get quieter and less frequent as the seconds passed. Shrugging his brows he moves his phone away so your face was no longer blocked, only to find you sleeping with a small smile on your face. He couldn't help chuckle, not only at the small bit of whipped cream on your nose, but also at how his sleepy girl had fallen asleep on yet another date. Slowy, he quietly snapped a picture of you before putting his phone to the side whilst dropping his head down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, bringing it back up as he continued to admire you.

This was a picture rafe loved.

An image he wanted imprinted in his mind.

His favouite sight.

"sleep well my sleepy girl"

[fountainpenguin]

Wild Life Session 1 takeaways thus far:

- Tiny Grian blends in with the fish

- Scar and Jimmy are doing their best... I don't have anything specific to say, but I like their cherry hill base plans. And I'm just really glad Scar decided to call them Bam Boys instead of Bang Boys.

- Grian's reputation as a cheater precedes him and it cracks me up... He really is out here like "You really think I'd cheat on you guys? I've been gone for like 5 minutes" and Mumbo and Skizz are just not having it.

- Grian: "I'm not here to share." [Realizes Martyn took all the sugarcane right in front of him.] "Oh, wait... Can I have some?"

- Etho calling BigB his big brother and saying he's nervous about wandering away and needs someone to hold his hand...

- I really enjoyed the Etho-Bdubs banter over the black horse. Bdubs had so many great lines throughout this episode. I especially liked "Wait, I can't take this- That's a bad example for the children."

- Giant Etho and Tiny Scott in the boat...

- Martyn looking around in confusion when he can't find Ren like "I think Ren shrank so much, he perished."

- Ahasbands... save me, Wild Life Ahasbands... Martyn gushing over Mumbo (to Ren) and imitating Mumbo's voice and talking about how cool he is (followed by their later teasing chat over Martyn inventing the wheel) is killing me slowly...

-> sldkfjsdklfj wait, Martyn really is gunning to bring Mumbo on his team, huh? Yeah, that's not gonna last.

- Ren and Martyn talking about how they were going to claim the top of the cherry hill unless someone already put down a sign, and then they reach the top of a long climb and there's just a sign saying Scar and Jimmy live there. Comedy gold...

Martyn: I think [Grian] thinks of you as 'less than half.' Mumbo, who has spent an entire episode bragging about being tiny and loathing anyone big: Or more than half. That'd be worse.

I'm crying.

- I enjoy Martyn saying "I love that for us" in regards to a group he's trying to schmooze his way into, but isn't yet part of.

- I'm fascinated by Sub 1 Club's obsession with getting as tiny as they can and opting to go into swim mode as a form of land travel.

- Oh gosh, Mumbo knows Martyn so well... The lack of faith he has in his honesty is incredible.

- Mumbo screaming at Martyn, "I knew you were tall! I knew it! You're just pretending to be small!" in regards to his personality despite him being small enough to fit in a pocket.

- Martyn leaving by saying "I'm not your friend anymore" sdklfjskd?? Drama in the Ahasband household tonight (/jk)

- Pearl, reluctant to kill animals that have low respawn: Yeah, but porkchops...... Scott: Taste great; yeah, you're right!

- The dichotomy between the other groups I watched, who mostly kept trying to mine or build after they shrank, and GGG + Impulse who started doing parkour.

- CACKLING at Pearl dying, asking her teammates for food, and Cleo looks straight at her and says "Arguably, you shouldn't need any" since her hunger meter refilled when she died.

- Impulse is going to be a really interesting balance to GGG because Cleo is being lightly "aggressive" towards Pearl (Denying her food, teasing her and Impulse for having a thing for soup since they're the Soup Group with Gem). Cleo and Scott cling to each other a lot, so Pearl having a close friend and not ending up a third wheel is interesting.

Scott, digging, calling up in a wobbly voice with his heavy Scottish accent: Pearl, there's a drowned down here! Pearl: There's a... clown down there? Impulse: There is now!

- I doubt the bit will be continuing, but wouldn't that be hilarious if the Clocker family tree extended due to Cleo joking that Pearl and Impulse were her parents?

- Considering I'm currently in the "Impulse and Cleo struggling with half-smothered resentment and weirdness over 3rd Life and stuff" arc in Dog's Life... their conversation about Cleo saying she doesn't trust Impulse is perfect timing. That is literally the arc I've been posting.

- Etho said they're playing in a 500 x 500 world instead of a 700 x 700 one this time. There are so many people this time, so this should be interesting!

-> Even on a server brimming with people, BigB's alone again... (It is very late when I'm scheduling this, so I will watch him another time <3)

[lavender-bun]

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿🎀✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You were boiling with jealousy. You just wanted to have fun drinking and smoking with your friends and boyfriend and everything had been fine until you got a glance of some kook bitch flirting with JJ, batting her lashes at him stupidly and you already had your fist clenching by your side. Your grip tightening on the red solo cup, chugging down the rest.

Kie, Sarah, and Cleo followed your gaze and all knew it won't take long until you snap. You trusted JJ, it's just that you can't stand the fact that many girls or past flings on the island still tried making their shot even though they knew he's not on the market anymore.

You could see the annoyance on JJ's face but he was still being nice about it, which you cherish him for but also wished he would just walk away from her and leave her there dumbfounded.

You were really trying to keep your cool but then she had the audacity to touch his arm. That was it. Throwing the cup on the ground and ignoring Kie's scolding you marched over to where the boys were standing.

Pushing the girl's hand off JJ not so gently you stood between the two, your arms crossed over your chest while JJ wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Stay the fuck away from my man and go look for some kook dick instead of using pogues just so you can feel some type of power." You glared at her.

"Oh really? And that's coming from someone whose mom had practically slept with the whole island. I don't doubt you're any better-" Your fist made contact with her face before she could finish her insult, and you watched her fall onto the sand.

The boys shouted in surprise and you didn't let it end there, getting on top of her and grabbing her by her shirt with one hand.

"You ever take my family in your mouth again imma make sure you won't leave the hospital for a while, got that?" You whispered to her before feeling JJ wrap his arms around your middle to hoist you up and off her.

"Easy now, mama. Think she heard you loud and clear. C'mon, let's go." JJ carried you away while you kept cussing at the girl, making sure that the others on the bonfire see what happens when they mess with you.

After your little altercation, everyone decided it was better to call it a night and make your way back to the Chateau.

JJ went to hold your hand but quickly let go when you hissed in pain, instead he grabbed your wrist holding it up to look at your bruised knuckles. He smirked, kissing each of your knuckles gently.

"All that trouble for me, huh?" He teased and you rolled your eyes but smiled at him.

"Shut up. You would have done the same if any guy had approached me."

"True." He chuckled and when you tried to get out of his hold he stopped walking, pulling you against his chest. "I gotta admit, what you did there was pretty hot."

You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss while his hands went to squeeze your ass. Your little make out session got interrupted by John B clapping his hands to get your guys attention.

"C'mon, you lovebirds. You can mingle later, there are people who have a busy day ahead."

"Oh and you are one of them?" You raised an eyebrow at the brunette.

"Yeah, someone has to take care of your hangover asses tomorrow and that's probably me as I'm the most sober one here." He flicked your forehead and you slapped his hand away laughing.

"Better be careful bro or you'll be her next victim." JJ warned with a smirk placing his arm over your shoulders, kissing the side of your head.

"I think I broke her nose-"

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿🎀✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Requested by: @tracymbcm (I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this 😭 hope you still like it the way it came out)

Taglist

For everything:

@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216

For JJ Maybank:

@tracymbcm @spideysimpossiblegirl @chiaraanatra

[the-main-daine]

Life Series Character Renders:

Featuring Martyn, Mumbo and Pearl

(I actually have quite a lot to say about two of these this time.)

Martyn:

Human.... ish. Hear me out on this one:

So Martyn has this fascinating background lore to the Life Series called Watcher/Eyes and Ears Lore. I'm quietly obsessed with this.

I love watching his lore streams after every series, and have come up with a few theories on my own: His thumbnails are always fully illustrated, so his character has a canon 'look' for every season, which I think is just, deeply cool.

But in his lore, there's also this space between SMPs, where the Watchers kind of... hold people until they can be used again. And since Martyn is the protagonist of the very cool story he's writing, I got it in my head that in this space between, Martyn isn't QUITE human. Maybe he was at one point.

Maybe he never was, I don't know.

But alongside all the cracks and stuff that have started to show up on his body; there's seams along the joints, and light shining within, as he starts to become more befitting as a vessel.

A vessel for what? No idea. I probably won't be drawing all those seams in any fanart comics of the series themselves - I imagine they get covered up when he's sent out into the world to interact with others in various SMPs - but I thought the idea was too cool not to draw at least once.

As a past winner, he gets his crown, and the burning eye of Mars by his name.

Mumbo:

Vampire Mumbo!

I know he doesn't have the grey streak in his life series skin but I love it too much I'm keeping it forever.

It makes him look so much more threatening and serious than he is.

Poor Mumbo. I was really rooting for you buddy. Better luck next series!

At least he still does damage with those End Crystals.

Pearl:

A lunar moth

As a winner, she gets her crown, and she gets her moon.

I'm not going to lie I want that lunar moth hoodie more than anything.

I had a lot of fun with Pearl: Her skin design is so simple (Well, maybe not this season, but usually) that it leaves so much room to interpret it. She's always going around with dogs, making her wolfish would've been really easy, but I think Moth suits her more.

There's a lot of mythology with moths being a little off kilter, mad, or leading people to madness that I think fits with Pearl's tendency to be a little bit of a loose canon, wild and unpredictable. Like a moth's flight patterns.

Red Hood Pearl had to put in an appearance here, especially with how it's sort of creeping to overtake her in Wild Life this season, and she just gets so earnestly threatening when she's on a red life despite still being all smiles and all laughs.

Unlike Gem or Cleo, I think there's an edge to Pearlie Pop on red that just reminds me of a horror monster, in the best, best, best way.

I haven't figured out heights but she's also the tallest.

[izelthewashbear]

The one part of 3rd Life Renchantyn/Treebark we never talk about

Whenever we talk about Treebark/Renchantyn/Martn and Ren in context of 3rd Life, it's almost always about the beheading - the ultimate test of trust between them two, where Ren claimed his place as the Red King, and Martyn finally fullfilled his duty of being his loyal hand.

However, there's one part we don't talk about even half as much, while I think we should.

"On the 3rd Life server, there is a rule - that if Red attacks yee, yee may attack the Red back."

The second half of their test was to see whether they trusted each other enough to not attack each other despite being on two opposite ends of the spectrum - with Martyn being green and Ren being red. Ren passed the test with flying colors right away - despite pointing out the possibility that as a red, he could attack Martyn, he never did - he never even grabbed a weapon to attack him with.

And what about Martyn?

Immediately after Ren pointed out the rule, he was holding a cobweb in his hand - so that if Ren went on to attack him, he'd be able to trap him. He ran away and only came back upon Ren saying that he won't do it.

However, he was given a choice. Ren punched him, not even shedding any of his hearts - but as per that rule, Martyn could attack him back. He was armed with both his sword and Red Winter, he even started placing the cobwebs so that Ren couldn't run.

"Are you with Red King to the end, or will you take Dogwarts for yourself?"

He could very well slay Ren again at that moment. It would not break any rules - Ren attacked him first, so it would count as self defense. Ren was ready for that, maybe even expected that.

"No! I won't do it!"

But Martyn didn't do it. For that one moment, the guy who mostly travelled the server and didn't have the place to call home aside from Dogwarts, decided to trust his only friend and not take everything they worked for together all for himself. He allows the walls he built around himself to crumble ever so slightly, to let that one man in.

...

But what if he didn't?

I can't stop thinking about what would happen if at that moment, he hesitated. If at that moment, despite spending so much time with Ren, he still didn't trust him enough. If his survival instincts kicked in and he attacked Ren again, making the Red King the first fallen player. If he remained at Black Heart Altar alone, with Dogwarts all to himself. If he decided that if not many players trust him, it's better if he doesn't trust anyone, as well. The walls are not ready to be broken down yet.

And then imagine the rest of the games afterwards.

Last Life, where he teams up with Southlanders first - if he turns on them, he'd be outnumbered, so it's like forcing himself into submission. Him hesitating to join Shadow Alliance - he killed Ren last time, why is that man trying to put trust in him again?

Double Life, where he ends up separating from his soulmate either way. He would end up backstabbing Cleo, anyway, so it's better if he starts on his own. Ren still tries to get his attention, but why? What's up with this guy and his weird obsession with his first murderer?

Limited Life. Ren is suddenly gone, so there is nobody else around to pester Martyn. The walls gets thicker and thicker. Scott is nice enough to him, but that pisses him off even more. Reminds him of Ren. This time, he backstabs him with no hesitation, and that leads him to victory. Why trust people, when working on his own led him to his goal?

...

Anyways I have a new idea for a treebark fic, idk if you guys are interested?

UPDATE: It's here, chapter 1 is finished! Enjoy, and brace yourself :>

[littlxpxtal]

You Get Me So High

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

I wanna be high all the time

Would you come with me?

Used to stick together

You’re my best friend, I’ll love you forever

If you can just let me know if it’s okay

To call you when I’m lonely

February Cont.

“Show me a picture of this dude so I know who to look out for.” Sarah says after she puts the car in park in my driveway.

My hand trembles as I type in his instagram handle.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD” she screeches, slapping my arm. “You’re never going to believe me when I say this.”

”What WHAT” I shout back in response, my heart racing and palms getting sweaty.

”Y/N, he was there at the beach that day. During the whole Ruthie thing. He was one of the losers heckling Kie when she was trying to confront them. He’s the reason JJ threatened to kill them all.” My jaw dropped.

”There .. there’s no way. He- he isn’t like that.” I stammer.

”I swear on my mom, y/n. Send that to our group chat for Kie and Cleo to confirm but im so serious that’s him.”

”Fuck. This guy is really not who I thought he was.”

”No, he’s not at all. So, what are you going to do when you see him at school tomorrow?” She said as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I sighed and looked out the window at my house.

“I don't even want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me. I’m just going to ignore him…. I think” Sarah reached over and squeezed my hand.

“We’re here for you. Im sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most-“

“It’s Valentine’s Day, I shouldn’t expect any of you to come running to my side, but im glad you did. Will you tell John B hello for me?” I say, cutting her off. She gave me a soft smile and nodded her head.

“Of course” she says and I step out of the car, waving goodbye as I walk towards my front door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Pogue fucker” Noah mumbles under his breath as he passes me in the hall. I stop in my tracks, my body tenses and I process what he just said.

I turn on my heels and look at him straight in the eyes. Sabrina, who was walking down the hall with me, grabs my arm.

”The fuck did you just call me?” I say through gritted teeth.

”you heard me. You’re a pogue fucker.” He says with a smile. His friends standing next to him like a bunch of chumps.

I take a step forward towards him. So much for ignoring him.

”I don’t know who made you think you can say shit like that, but you’re sure as hell not going to say something like that to me.”

”Oh really? What’re you gonna do? Have your boyfriend JJ gun me down?”

I begin to lunge forward before Sabrina holds me back.

”Alright that’s enough Noah” she yells at him, pushing herself infront of me.

”What you did was fucked up Noah, leading her on like that, then ghosting her. She’s not dating JJ by the way, I don’t know where you got that information but its incorrect. And what’s wrong with being a pogue fucker anyways?” She says, crossing her arms over her chest.

His group of friends laugh and Noah looks past Sabrina at me.

”Everyone knows you and JJ fucked, that’s just facts.”

”THATS NOT TRUE” I shout behind Sabrina.

”And you literally just posted about hanging out with Pogues, so there’s no way you aren’t still slumming it down on the cut when you get the chance.” He continues. My blood is boiling at this point. A crowd has started to form around us just before the bell for dismissal rings,

”Besides the fact that you’re an ignorant douche, I suggest you keep this shit to yourself. You’re spreading lies about a nice girl who did NOTHING to you except trust you. Rot in hell, DICK.” She screams the last bit before dragging me by the arm out the front doors of the school.

”Are you okay hun?” She asks, wrapping her arm around my side. My head hung low, avoiding eye contact with anyone, especially those who just saw the altercation go down.

”Yea ‘m fine I just wanna go home.”

”You gonna be okay?” She asks, and I nod my head in response.

”I just want to lay in bed” I say with a sigh.

”I love you” she says before walking towards her car.

”Love you too Sab, thank you.”

When I get into my car I see a text from my mom

Your dad and I decided to leave for Charlotte tonight rather than in the morning, and Lucy decided to come with us. Did you still want to stay home this weekend?

Yea I’ll be fine. Got homework and stuff to get done.

ok love you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After rotting in bed until 8:30pm I decided to get up and make myself dinner. We had some chicken breasts and lemons, so I decided to make a makeshift chicken piccata.

While the chicken was baking my music silenced itself, and my phone started ringing.

Incoming Call: Rafe Cameron

I take a second before answering, holding my breath to hear what he has to say.

”Hello?” I speak into the phone, peering down into the oven to check on the chicken.

”Hey um,” he sniffles in the background, his voice sounds broken up over the phone.

”Are you home?”

”Yes, are you okay?” I ask, concern starting to rise in my voice.

”Can I come over?” He whispers into the phone. There’s a beat of silence before I answer.

”Yes.”

”Alright I’m kind of already here, could you open the front door?”

I jump and turn around to see that the front porch light is infact, on.

“Coming” I say, running over to open the door.

He stands on the side of the doorway, clutching his side, a hoodie over his head. As I open the door farther he leans in, practically falling inside.

”Holy Shit Rafe what’s going on?” I shriek, catching him before he topples over.

”Can I lay down?” He asks, his voice is hoarse. I pull him over to the living room couch, helping him get comfortable, I pull his hoodie down, to reveal a bruise on his cheekbone and a bloody nose.

”God Rafe you need to tell me who did this to you.”

He let out a dark laugh, one i hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“You’re not going to believe me.”

”Try me” I say while standing up to walk to the first floor bathroom and get the med kit.

I return back to rafe on the couch, with the kit and a wet rag.

I begin to wipe the dried blood off his face and put some medicine on his cuts. He winces at my touch, but doesn’t refuse.

Our faces are dangerously close at this point, and i can feel his breath on my face. My pulse quickens and I realize he still didn't answer my question.

”So, whats the other guy looking like right now?” I ask, trying to lighten the tense mood. He opens his mouth to answer right when the oven timer rings.

”Shit sorry one second. Did you have dinner?”

He grumbles some sort of response I can barely hear as I walk into the kitchen, putting on a glove to take out the chicken.

I place the breasts back on the pan, glazing it with white wine and squeezing a fresh lemon into the sauce.

“That smells amazing” Rafe comments before sitting on on of the island chairs.

”Rafe go lay back down.” I instruct, as I begin to plate the dish, now splitting it into two servings.

“You patched me up, im all better.” He says, faking a smile. I roll my eyes before setting a plate infront of him.

”Eat this, and then you’ll feel better.” He looks down at the plate, then back at me.

”are you sure, I really don’t -“ I cut him off with a wave of my hand in his face.

”shush, just tell me how good it is.” He cuts into the chicken and takes a bite, while I pour us two glasses of water.

”holy shit this is gas.” He says with a Mouth full.

“I know” I say confidently, giving him a full smile before taking a seat next to him.

After a few minutes of us eating in silence, I turn to look at him.

”So why did you come here?” I ask with genuine sincerity and curiosity. He finishes swallowing and turns his head to look back at me.

“This is kind of our thing isn’t it? Coming to each other at our lowest.” He lets out a chuckle before taking a sip of water.

”I guess that’s true,” I respond, thinking back to every time we’ve been in situations like this.

”and I don’t like people to see me like… like this.”

”vulnerable?”

he looks away after my comment, I can tell his head is swimming with thoughts, he’s far away right now, I needed to figure out how to bring him back. Before I could come up with another question, he finishes his last bite and stands up, walking over to the sink to rinse it off.

“You don’t need to do that” I say, protesting.

“Shush” he mimicks me.

I finish up my own last bite and he takes the plate away from infront of me, and starts to wash it.

I walk to the living room, and clean up the med kit, placing it back in the bathroom, when I return, I find rafe putting his shoes back on.

”What’re you doing?” I question, my breath hitching in my throat at the thought of him leaving so soon.

”I. Don’t wanna be a bother. You probably got stuff to do, it’s a Friday night and all.”

”no!” I shout, louder than I had anticipated, making us both flinch. “stay. Im home alone and could use the company.”

“Y/n,” he starts. I walk over and stand infront of him, blocking him from the door.

”I said I want you to stay.” His eyes look back and forth between me and the door a few times before he gives in.

“Well what were you going to do before I showed up?” He asks, taking his shoes back off.

”I was going to watch a movie, The KIlling of a Sacred Deer, you heard of it?”

”That the one with Nicole Kidman?” He says with a smirk.

I give his shoulder a slight shove and shake my head.

”Come on, we can watch it downstairs.” He follows my lead to the basement, trailing right behind, but stopping when we pass the bar.

”Rafe…” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Don’t even think about it.”

”Chill baby I’m just checking out what your dad has in stock,” he hums at me before touching the end of my hair.

��You know, I’ve always loved your hair.” He murmurs, leaning down a few inches infront of my face.

“Thanks, I grew it myself.” I respond plainly, walking into my room. He lets out a huff and follows me in. I fumble to pick up the pile of clothing at the edge of my bed, shoving it into my closet. I run to get the trash off of my nightstand before he starts laughing.

”I didnt expect a guest okay, don’t start with me.” I shoot daggers at him and he raises his hands in defense.

“You know how Sarah’s room can get. Im not judging.” He crawls onto my bed, laying his head on one of my squishmallows. ”I think this ones my favorite” he says, pointing to the large Axolotl in the corner.

I smile and climb onto the bed with him.

”He actually doesn’t have a name yet.” I inform him, picking up the remote to turn my TV on, “you should help me name him.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows and then looks back at the plush figure. I can see his mind thinking, and I find myself watching him intently for a few moments before he turns to make eye contact with me. His demeanor had softened dramatically compared to the state he was in an hour ago. Luckily his face wasn’t swelling, and looked like his cuts would heal nicely.

“What about .. Fred?”

I let out a laugh, louder than I think we both expected, causing Rafe to let out a deep chuckle himself.

”Okay okay yeah that was bad. Hmm what about Reek?”

“Like from Game of Thrones?” A smile spreads across his face.

”Yes.” He says softly, touching my hair again.

”Well if he’s going to be a game of thrones character, maybe he should be Drogon, one of Daenerys’s dragons.”

”Hm I like that, Drogon has a ring to it.”

I turn back to the TV and press play on the movie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Okay so where the fuck was the deer?’ Rafe asks as the credits roll on the screen.

”You are not being serious are you right now?”

”Y/N, that was a horrifying movie. Why’s every piece of media you show me actually insane.”

”Have you ever considered im insane?”

”Its crossed my mind for sure.” I gasp, with a roll of my eyes before turning on a random episode of Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia on.

“So.” I say, my eyes grazing over his long body on my bed, when my eyes catch up to his face, he’s already looking intently at me.

”So..” he responds. I fiddle with the hem of my shorts before taking in a sharp breath.

”Are you going to tell me who did that to you?”

His eyes flicker down my body and then back up at my eyes. He lays his head back on the headboard and closes his eyes.

“It was my dad.”

I immediately sit straight up.

”Rafe, what?” My hand reaches over to grab his. He stays still, letting me hold it.

“We got into an argument over the settlement that just went down,and he was drinking. There’s some stuff going on with Peterkin that’s got him all riled up and he took it out on me.”

“I, I’m so sorry I don’t even know what to say. You don’t deserve to be related like that at all, especially from your dad.

He finally opens his eyes and looks at me, I could tell he was trying to fight off any intense emotions, holding his body tense. I moved closer to him, draping my arm across his body, my head resting against his.

”can you not tell anyone about this? I’m going to tell the guys it was a fight with a pogue and I don’t need you and your little friends running around saying the opposite.”

I nudge my forehead against his, “I wouldn’t do that” I whisper, inching my nose towards his. I watch his eyes flicker up at mine, then down at my lips.

“I know you wouldn’t,” He brings his hand up to my cheek and pulls me closer, our lips hovering over each other.

“Always such a good girl for me.” My breath hitches in my throat, and I push my mouth against his. Our lips collide, and a guttural moan vibrates from his mouth through mine. Rafe’s hands reach down to grab my hips and he pulls me on top of him.

Our lips move against each other in a fast paced rhythm, and Rafe pulls me down hard against his crotch moving me up and down.

“God I need you so bad.” He mumbles against my lips. I moan back in response, running my fingers through his hair.

“Who said I was going to give you what you want?” I flirt back, moving my mouth down his chin, onto his neck, sucking and biting. He lets out a soft sigh, mixed with a chuckle.

“Don’t act like you cant resist me. Especially when you’re so worked up like this.”

I remove my mouth from his neck for a second to say, “‘m not worked up.”

“I’ve caught you checking me out all night baby. You’re not as slick as you think.”

I continue to suck on his neck, moving to the other side.

“Well its been a while.” I murmur against his skin.

“Say the word and I’ll give you what you want.” I peek my head up to meet his eyes, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth that’s smirked up.

”And when I say I want a million dollars, then what?” I quip, raising my eyebrows.

”I’d give you the world if you wanted.” He whispers back. We stare at each other for a few moments, before he tilts my chin up, connecting our lips once again.

I reach my hand down to help him take off his shirt and he stops me.

“Don’t, Don’t freak out alright.” He says quietly. I look at him quizzically before he takes his shirt off himself, revealing bruises up and down his torso.

”My god, Rafe.” I gasp, and lightly trail my finger over the marked spots. He hisses and grabs my hand.

“I said don’t freak out.” He warns me, with a stern look on his face. I feel myself throbbing against his crotch underneath me, I think he can feel it too because his face softens and he leans his head back against the headboard.

“We’ll just have to be a little gentler than usual.” I say, moving my body down to trail kisses along his sternum. I make sure to hold myself up by my arms as I go down, to avoid putting any unnecessary weight on his chest.

When I make it to his belt buckle, I finally look up.

”He didnt harm you down here did he?” I ask, hoping to lighten the mood. He smiles and shakes his head no before helping me undo the loop.

I pull his pants and boxers down, throwing them off the bed, taking his cock in one hand and bringing my other up to cup his face. His bottom lip is tight between his teeth, and I hear his breathing start to get heavier.

I lean down to spit on his dick, and start to pump before bringing my face up to meet his. We hold eye contact as I quicken the pace, making sure to squeeze over his tip before going all the way down his shaft. After a few more pumps, I bring my hand down to grab his balls and his bottom lip finally escapes his teeth and he lets out a moan. I seize this opportunity of his open mouth by pressing my mouth against his, shoving my tongue inside. I explore around his mouth, tasting him, devouring him.

”Fuck” he pants when I finally release myself to take a breath. “I need to taste you.” He took the opportunity to flip me onto my back. I whimper out in excitement while his mouth trails along the already exposed skin on my legs. While he pulls down my shorts I take off my top, exposing the fact that I didn't have a bra on this whole time.

He looks up with a smirk and reaches a hand over to palm my right breast, causing a moan to escape my lips. I feel myself grow wetter by the second as his breath trails over my panties, grazing his lips around the lines between them and my inner thighs.

”Please” I whimper out, reaching down to collect whatever pieces of hair I could into my grasp.

He pulls the fabric with one finger down between my folds, creating a pressure against my clit, and pushes his lips down on the bud.

“Fuck” I whisper out. His finger, still in between my panties, begins to slide in between my folds, collecting up the juices I had built up. He takes the finger out and pops it into his mouth, sitting up on his knees, rolling his eyes back.

“Fucking delicious.” He groans before ripping my panties completely off. I take in a sharp inhale at the sudden movements, and before i can think, he’s pushing my knees up to my chest with one hand, and using his other to inspect my pussy.

”So fucking pretty” He whispers against the inside my my knee, giving it a soft kiss while his fingers continue to slide up and down.

“Rafe” I plead squirming beneath him.

“Shh baby,” he coos. “I told you I’d give you what you want. You just have to say it.” His eyes look up to meet mine, and another whimper escapes my lips. My brain is fuzzy already, and I can barely get the words out. His hand retracts from my pussy, and he begins to pump his dick.

He moves his erection dangerously close to my core, and gives a slight tap, causing my hips to jerk up and uncontrollable whimpers to fall out.

“Please” I beg, Feeling my face get hot. A smirk is stapled to his face as he watches the scene of my throbbing pussy visibly aching to be filled.

“Use your words pretty girl, tell me what you want.” He says softly, pressing another kiss to the inside of my thighs.

”Want you to fill me up”

He doesn’t waste a second after the words come out of my mouth, pushing himself fully in. I shriek out, grabbing his shoulder to pull him down to meet my face.

He pants against my open mouth, and my eyes roll back before I squeeze them shut, seeing stars behind my hooded lids.

”Wanna see those pretty eyes baby” he says, my eyes flicker open to meet his intense gaze, his lips slightly parted. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and smiles.

“There you are” he whispers before picking up his pace. My moans are uncontrollable at this point, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he pounds into me.

“So fucking good” I cry out. He gives my forehead a kiss before dipping his head into the crook of my neck, swinging my right knee over his shoulder, pumping in deeper.

”You like this baby?” He says against my neck. I whimper back in response, and move my hands down to hold onto his biceps.

“Yes, you fuck me so, so, so” my head falls back and my eyes roll back against as his hips slap against my thighs.

“So, so, so” he mimics in a high pitch voice.

“Mhm fuck you.” I mumble out. His hand grabs my chin and he turns it to meet his face.

“Nah, when Im fucking you this you good, you don’t get to have a fucking attitude.” He puts pressure between my cheekbones and jaw and I open my mouth. He leans down and spits into it. I whimper and swallow, nodding my head in agreement.

“Yes, sir” I whisper. I watch his pupils grow in response, and his pace fastens. His hand releases from my face to grab my left breast, and he leans his head down to suck my nipple, lapping up and down before taking the peak between his teeth and biting down. I moan out, grabbing another fistful of his hair.

”’m gonna cum if you keep pulling shit like this” I quip. He shoots a look at me before going back down to sucking on my tit.

”Don’t you think that’s kind of the point babygirl? And I told your to watch that fucking attitude.” His hand moves up to my cheek to give it a slight tap, causing a guttural moan to come out, which makes him chuckle. His lips attach back to my nipple, and her sucks harder, causing me to shriek, and my brain to go full sub space.

When he comes back to meet my face, he can read it all over my face. He grins widely and kisses all around my face. My body tenses as I reach my high, and his free hand trails up and down my sides, his pace steady, hard and fast.

“You gonna cum for me?” He coos, brushing some hair out of my face before giving my lips a quick peck. I muster up the energy to nod my head, and he leans his hand down to rub my clit.

”Fuck” I groan out, grabbing his biceps, diggin my nails in.

“Im,” I start before the crash hits me and I go completely nonverbal, feeling myself convulse around rafe, holding onto him for dear life.

“There you go baby” he whispers, continuing to rub my clit aggressively while his thrusts get sloppy. My head feels light and I go completely limp underneath him, trusting myself in his grip to keep me safe.

He groans out and pulls his dick out before cumming all over my stomach. He holds my face while pumping his cock, getting the rest of himself out onto my body. His breaths slow before he reaches down to kiss me passionately, the cum now sticking to the both of us.

After a few minutes of us laying together, lips brushing against each other, he helps me come back to earth, caressing my head and playing with the ends of my hair.

“You’re so beautiful” he whispers before getting up a d walking to the bathroom. I feel a cold chill run up my body when his heat leaves the bed. He returns with a towel, wiping me off before he wipes himself off.

“Want some help getting to the bathroom?” He says, looking down at my helpless figure. I nod my head, and he picks me up, carrying me to the bathroom.

”You got it from here?” He asks, and I sheepishly nod, he leaves the bathroom closing the door behind him.

When I return to the bedroom, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his clothes against his lap.

”I can go now, if you wanna get some rest.” He says in a light voice, looking out the back door. I sit down next to him, wrapping my arm around his waist and resting my head against his shoulder.

”I told you I wanted you to stay earlier, and I meant it.”

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Tags: @ltristessedureratoujours @davinashifts333

[moviecritc]

✦ ˚ : · MEDIA DAYS ⋆ CARLOS SAINZ 🦢

pairing ☆ carlos sainz x f1 influencer! reader

summary ☆ where after an interview together, carlos is fascinated by you and doesn't miss the chance of hitting on you

warnings ☆ lando hate bc i hate him sm i can't stand him i swear to god i can't with that guy. i used lissie mackintosh as a fc bc she has good material, but i don't support her at all

masterlist | letterboxd

❛ if they call me a slut, it might be worth it for once❜

yourusername just posted!

liked by carlossainz55, skysports and 172,031 others

yourusername Can't wait to show you guys all the content this guys and I've been doing

tagged; @/carlossainz55, @/charlesleclerc

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user1 she's living every girl's dream

carlossainz55 Loved to work with you, I had so much fun! 🤞 liked by author

user2 OK I'M JEALOUS user3 oh hi carlos

user4 Leave this work for someone who knows how to do it

user5 go back to your 9 to 5 dickhead user6 🤏

user7 i want to be like her when i grow up (i'm 26)

user8 HAHSHAHA me too girl me too

landonorris now interview me, having dinner with you

yourusername no thanks x user9 LMAOO i just love how much y/n hates lando

yourusername just posted!

liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and 56,873 others

yourusername off the asphalt

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user10 she's soft launching??

lilymhe so many queens on this dump (including cleo, obviously)

yourusername cleo is the queenest of all of us

user11 my goal is soft launching in a yatch out of nowhere

alexandrasaintmleux cleo is the cutest omg!!

yourusername i wish leo and her fall in love, but i think she's a lesbian user12 IJBOL user13 honestly i think too that cleo is a lesbian

user14 that flowers omg

landonorris cool pics

yourusername thanks now leave.

user15 i can't believe she's soft launching

user16 THAT SHOULD BE ME

user17 face card never declines

carlossainz55 cleo has a bit of y/n in her face

user18 ariana what are you doing here user19 this friendship out of nowhere??? user20 wait i knew that hand on the second pic was familiar user21 IS CARLOS?? user22 oh that's not... user23 OF COURSE she's dating a f1 driver

user24 now it makes sense why you got into f1 so easily

carlossainz55 just posted a story!

[caption: best passenger princess]

replies

user25 so it's official?

user26 carlos wtf

user27 that's cleo lol

user28 you could do so much better

yourusername casually steals my dog

carlossainz55 I'M TAKING HER TO SIGHSEE while her mother is working

carlossainz55 just posted!

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 451,923 others

carlossainz55 London off the track

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user29 please tell me that's NOT y/n

user30 nah carlos leave y/n alone

user31 i really thought she was trying to make motorsports more visible to girls and she was just trying to be a wag

user32 she's just a gold digger like the others

user33 we lost him guys 😔

user34 we lost her*

user35 wait who's the girl? and why is everybody hating?

user36 everyone thinks is y/n, a journalist and f1 influencer that has been working for introducing more women and girl to the sport. and everyone is hating bc she represented all the women who wanted to have a future in f1, and now we found out that it was only for dating one of the drivers user37 i mean ig it sucks but dating a man doesn't take the fact that she can still do her job user38 but all the message for the girls is gone

user39 hell nah

yourusername just posted!

liked by carlosssainz55, franciscac.gomes and 98,270 others

yourusername Been reading so many opinions about my own private life and I thought that the best thing I can do is address this because I'd never imagine I could dissapoint so many people just for loving someone.

I've been working really hard making a name in this industry because I love motorsports, not for any other reasons. And I wasn't aware of being a role model until now, which is something I'm still getting used to it. But overall, who I choose to date has nothing to do with my job.

Dating the amazing man that Carlos is was just a perk of working in F1, and even though I'm technically a wag now (it's really weird to worded 😨) I will keep working hard in F1 and other categories for the love I have for this industry.

I'll see you on the next race 💕💕

comments have been limited

carlossainz55 You're the most hard working person I've ever met, I love you hermosa 💕

yourusername I love you too baby 🥹🥹

scuderiaferrari We can't wait to see you on the Ferrari hospitality liked by author

lilymhe I'm obsessed with you btw

landonorris fan of your relationship 😍🫀

yourusername Go away

☆ request by: anon

Could you do a smau w Carlos falling for an f1 influencer?

a/n: this was so hard somehow?? idk why i had zero inspiration this past week, but here it is. it's a bit short but i like it <3