#dm pope

[impishdullahan]

What is your FAVORITE ever dnd campaign (I would love to hear about the setting and worldbuilding the most!! :3)

Oh boi! You best buckle up!

I've run 5 campaigns to date, the last of which is still ongoing, but I think the 4th is my favourite, and that's mostly because the setting is actually fleshed out and not based on any source material. I arrived at the setting by polling my players for what kind of game they'd like, and the result is something we'd've never come up with on our own! The first poll was for genre, and we landed on historical fiction / folklore. Rather than just do the Euro history and folklore I and most of players are familiar with, though, I then polled them for what other region in the world they'd like to play in because I thought it'd be fun to learn about other histories and cultures. Western North America and East Asia were tied first, so I developed a setting based on the cultures around the North Pacific.

I settled on an ice age setting and adapted a map of the Bering land bridge into a fantasy map that stretched from Hokkaido to the Yukon and populated it all with different D&D races, ascribing them different real life cultures. The world as a whole I called Nuna, which means 'land' in the Inuit languages. I'll describe each region, it's real world geographical analogue, and the races that inhabit it, and why I ascribed them which cultures.

Going clockwise around the Pacific Rim, the first region is Noshima. Noshima is equivalent to modern day Hokkaido, Sakhalin, and the Kurils. The largest culture present is the Yamono, which are represented by beastfolk, a race I adapted from FAGE, the system I was running the campaign prior. The beastfolk were flavoured as the mortal counterparts to Japanese kami, which as I understand, are regional nature spirits. Noshima also had populations of the Toki, Men, and Elun: avens, humans, and aarakocra respectively. I'll describe the former two shortly, but the aarakocra are specifically flavoured as Steller's sea eagles. I can't remember what culture they leaned towards: they were pretty inconsequential in the campaign narrative and I just liked having Steller's sea eagles.

The next region is Yushen, roughly equivalent to modern day Manchuria and the Amur river basin, and is mostly represented by cultures inspired by the Sino-sphere. I'll discuss the Amur, Long, Heixuan, and Toki first. These were the original inhabitants of Yushen, and they're inspired by the 4 symbols or holy creatures of China: the Amur are felid shifters aligned with the White Tiger, the Long are dragonborn aligned with the Azure Dragon, the Heixuan are tortles aligned with the Black Tortoise, and the Toki are scarlet ibis avens aligned with the Vermillion Bird. (The Heixuan also leaned Vietnamese because I had a player want to lean into some Vietnamese folklore playing a tortle.) These 4 races/cultures were pushed to the peripheries of Yushen by the invading Men, or humans, who were in turn pushed to the peripheries by the invading Chi Sou, or orcs. These were inspired by some Chinese folklore regarding invading barbarians from the South-West, and I engaged in a little bit of stereotype. Yushen is also home to the Deva, or aasimars, in what would be the Sikhote-Alin mountains; the Deva were ascribed a broadly Indic culture, and they arrived together with the Chi Sou from far to the South-West.

Next is Jangso, which is broadly Korea: I did basically plop the Korean peninsula into the Sea of Okhotsk for the map. The major culture in Jangso is the Doke, or goblins. This is purely because at the time a friend had me watching the K-drama Goblin. Next there's the mixed Gokebi culture of verdans, a product of when a population of humans fleeing the invading Chi Sou settled in Jangso. There's also the Kebi in Jangso, the gnomes, who historically warred with the Doke.

To the North-West is the arid region of Khamda, broadly inspired by Mongolia. Khamda is populated by the Khernet, Sayatchi, Morinet, and Yamanet: yak-headed minotaurs, golden eagle avens, centaurs, and satyrs respectively. Khamda never played a role in the campaign narrative so it's not terribly well fleshed out, but the idea is that each is a population descended from a tribe of Men so spiritually connected with their animals in their nomadic lifestyles that they affected their physiology: falconers became avens, and herders became the rest.

The next region back on the Pacific Rim is Mokotan. Although Mokotan is geographically based on Kamchatka and Eastern Siberia, culturally I based it on Hokkaido since I based Noshima on the rest of Japan. The two cultures here besides the aforementioned Elun are the Jomon dwarves, based on the Jomon culture, and the Ainu-flavoured Pokkur halflings, based on the korpokkur.

Where the Bering land bridge is is the region of Emeq, populated by tritons. I ascribed them a Russian culture, but they were probably among the least fleshed out.

What corresponds to Alaska is the region of Nanaurat. In some ways it's the rest of the map west of Emeq in miniature: there's the Nanuk ursine shifters, Umiaq dwarves, Haarak halflings, and Kuutchik bald eagle aarakocra who are all related to their Western cousins. Nanaurat is broadly based on Inuit cultures, and I specifically wanted to lean into the connections between the East Siberian Yupik with the rest of the Inuit, as well as some of the more dubious connections between the Siberian Yeniseians and the North American Denes. Also in Naunaurat are the Yuktuk kor, guardians of the glacial pass to the rest of North America. Finally, theres the Kinichuk goliaths as well, and their western cousins were native to the pass betweem Jangso and Khamda, but they died before the glaciers came when the Doke and Kebi were still warring.

To the east of the map, beyond the glaciers and in what would be Canada, there's also firbolgs and elves, of which there are a few vagrants in Nuna.

I also have a bunch of lore to go with this all, at least the parts relevant to the campaign narrative, but this should do for an overview. A common throughline, though, is that each culture has its own explanation for what caused the ice age: Emeq was once a sea and it was only in the last 300-400 years that it rose of the sea when the glaciers developed around the rest of the land.

Feel free to ask for particulars about anything! The campaign was primarily set in Noshima, Yushen, and Mokotan, but I had 3 PCs from Nanaurat.

[impishdullahan]

Unless I'm bound by source material, I nearly always make my big, plot relevant historical events about as long ago as when the older living members of the second longest lived race were born. Very WWII but on the time scale of a dwarf, so like 400ya. You get this nice mix of the dwarven seniors having their first memories be what it was like living under occupation or with heavy rationing, you get the oldest elves having 'nam flashbacks, and for the humans it's like grappling with a colonial past.

starting an elite paramilitary black ops group who sneak into the homes of authors and cut one to three zeroes off any number of years given in a fantasy or sci-fi novel

[chiptrillino-art]

(ID in ALT text)

just some kuruk tests

[mybrainwontcooperate]

Hear me out

Conclave (2024) as a DnD campaign

Go.

[exile-on-uwustreet]

we have bookcrossing at my work now and i get to see the weirdest books known to man. such a sweet surprise in what's very likely my last months there

[impishdullahan]

Worst part about the cookies knowing I'm a linguist, honestly: the only thing they can try and market towards me is grammarly and that's like the last thing I'd touch. I'll still pay attention to when Word gives me a red squiggle because it's very common I accidently metathesise a few letters and don't notice it, but otherwise just not at all helpful. Google docs just has given up entirely, though, just because that's how I store conlang lexicons. And my classmates wonder why I prefer a real word processor for my academic writing...

As a DM, though, AI has been useful for writing campaigns. I give it an outline of important details and what beat I want to hit, ask for a dozen ways of hitting that beat, and then ignore most of it and use a small kernel it provided me with to plan the scene. It's not so much I use it to brainstorm, or to write, I use it to bridge the gap between brainstorming and writing, because I'm bad at that: I can write well if I have a vague idea of what specifically I need to write, and I have all these grand ideas of what to write, I just don't know how to get from point A to point B sometimes. It can also do this in a way my DM friends can't, though I'm sure if I had a writer friend (who weren't one of my players), they could help me bridge that same gap.

Okay. It's time for an AI rant.

My nephew is 13 years old. Whenever he writes a paper for school, I check it over and fix all of his mistakes for him. He said to me, "Maybe I'll proofread your paper for you in exchange," meaning one of the scholarly articles I write for work. I said, "Cool," and gave him the file. And he said, "Well, this is full of errors! See, you always say you have a lot to correct on my stuff, and look at all the stuff you got wrong!" And I said, surprised, "What? Where?" Because I'm sure there are typos in the draft I sent him, but not, like, that many.

And then he pointed to the screen and said, "Look at all the blue and red lines you have."

And I said, "Yeah, but those are wrong. Like, those are blue and red lines I'm ignoring because the computer is wrong." And then I paused and added, "You know you can't proofread a paper by just looking at the red and blue lines, right?" And he gave me the blankest look, because that clearly is EXACTLY what he thinks. And it became even clearer suddenly why, whenever I correct something on his paper, his immediate reaction is, "It didn't have a blue or red line."

There's a very good reason for that: THAT'S BECAUSE THE COMPUTER ISN'T SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT IT WAS WRONG.

I am so tired of being sold the idea that computers are better than humans and so we should just outsource everything to them, which is clearly the lesson my nephew is absorbing in U.S. middle school. COMPUTERS ARE NOT BETTER THAN HUMANS. Like, maybe they are better at humans at crawling through rubble to find people trapped inside. They are also better at preserving things in a searchable format. Things like that. Very limited circumstances.

I don't want to sound alarmist but everything I hear about people using generative AI freaks me out. It's not just that I'm freaked out by people being like, "I use it to write novels!" (Although I don't see how they do, I have tried to have it write fiction for me and the output was truly terrible.) But I recognize my bias around creative writing and so no one needs to credit my views on artificial writing. But! Other things are alarming, too! "I use it to brainstorm x, y, or z." But...why? Why not just...use your own brain...to...brain...storm? The computer doesn't even have a brain to brainstorm with! And you might be like, "But it comes up with things that my brain would never think of!" So would other people! You could also brainstorm with other people! Or even through Google to see what other people have thought before you (not AI). Please don't belittle the wonder of thinking.

I just feel like the marketing around generative AI boils down to "Wouldn't it be easier not to use your own brain to think about things?" Everyone. No. It would not be. Please just trust me on this. I'm not just an old person who is out of touch with technology or something. I promise. USE YOUR BRAINS. IT WILL BE OKAY.

[pope-posts]

Damnit, Tumblr! Let me post my sexy partial dick pic! There are people posting full nudity, so I feel cheated. It lasted a full 10 minutes before being flagged 😪 I guess if anyone wants to see it, hmu.

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (05)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content suggestive, boner alert (???), jealous rafe, alcohol consumption, unresolved tension, somewhat of a fight? (+ whipped rafe because i cant get enough of him)

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 04 ¡ 05 ¡ 06

↳ cleoanderson replied to your story: you got five seconds to respond 2 my imsg.

Rafe spent the next four hours and thirty-two minutes trapped in your closet. 

By the time you let him out, the boy’s body was aching all over, having maintained the same position throughout the entire night he spent in there. He heard everything, from the two hours of catching up, to your friends spilling your secrets – to which, you attempted to dodge, aware of the latter yet snared in the cramped space.

Guilt couldn’t capture your emotions, mind fuzzing with all sorts of questions over how you planned to get Rafe out. Ending the night off early clearly wasn’t a choice, hence the girls were too busy conversing to head to bed. Waiting was the only plan you had, and you hoped Rafe could bear with it, because him exiting that closet wasn’t a good impression for both of you. 

Rafe sought to endure it, fanning himself with the clothes – said clothes being your tiny bikini pieces, hung inside to get himself through the night. Besides how hot it was, it was dim dark inside, that prior to his phone dying, the strip of light peeking through the door crook was the only thing in sight. So yeah, in his opinion, it was a rough night, he instantly grew to regret his decisions, and seeking your presence way past midnight, aware that he should’ve headed to bed, keeping the promise he vouched to his best friend.

After numerous excuses as to why everyone should sleep, you eventually strived to put everyone to bed, peeking up when you noticed Kiara, who was sharing a room with you, deep in her slumber. You aimed for your closet, tippy toeing as you made your way there, careful not to wake anyone up. 

A sigh of relief escaped Rafe’s throat as you unlocked the door, scrunching your nose with haste when it made a creaking noise, causing your best friend to stir in her sleep. The blond let his eyes fall shut, groaning as his arms stretched over his head, body stiff and aching him all over.  

You somehow managed to escort him out of your room, not giving him a chance to speak before you slammed the door shut in his face. And that, yeah, it definitely kept Rafe up at night. 

The next morning, you woke up to the loud noises erupting through your ears, jolting you awake. The living room filled with chaos, taken aback when you came downstairs and noticed Kelce, along with Topper, and his girlfriend Ruthie. Your vision instantly shifted to Rafe, who straddled one of the seats as he sipped on his cup of coffee, exhaustingly yawning mid chuckle over something Pope said. 

A ragged breath escaped your parted lips, instantly turning your head when Rafe’s gaze locked with yours, the smile on his face faltering at the action. Sure, he knew you were upset, but he didn’t think it was this serious, to the point where he couldn’t even glimpse at you without you avoiding his eyes. 

Rafe’s attention fixed on you throughout breakfast, secretly stealing glances in your direction when you weren’t looking. The blond perked up at the sight of Kelce embracing you in a hug, until you were fully wrapped in his arms, that, of course, caught him off guard, because based off his knowledge, Ryan was close with the latter, yet he didn’t mind you and him all snuggled up on the couch, merely rolling his eyes when he took notice of the state they were in.  

Breakfast filled with laughter, as you and JJ argued over who’s handing the food out, immediately scolded by Cleo, who was helping Kiara plate breakfast for everyone else. 

Each person took a corner; JJ standing along with Kiara and keeping her company while she cooked, Pope chatting with Cleo from behind the table, Sarah taking a corner with her boyfriend; John B, whom she dearly missed. And rafe, he was just there, chanting in whenever Kelce mentioned him, only speaking up when necessary.  As for Ruthie and Topper, yeah, you didn’t even want to talk about them. 

Ryan rushed everyone to get ready, informing them of the little time they had to get to the party they planned on attending, leaving them no choice but to hurry. It didn’t take Rafe long, taking a quick shower and getting dressed before he found himself heading outside, with the purpose of approaching Ryan, who was seated in his car with his legs slung over the rolled down window. 

“Where’s my car?” Rafe questioned, causing Ryan to perk up from his seat.

“Oh, Topper took it.” Ryan casually chimed back, attention shifting down to his phone.

“What the fuck, dude?” Rafe’s face scrunched with disbelief, “Why?” 

“They wanted to get there before us,” Ryan explained, “He said they were going to be late.”

“Doesn’t mean he can take my car,” Rafe scoffed, pulling out his phone. “His bitchass could’ve easily used one of his daddy’s cars.” 

“Drop it, dude.” Ryan chuckled, snatching the phone from Rafe’s hold. “Jus’ ride with us, it’s no big deal.” 

“Yeah?” Rafe’s eyebrows curled with sarcasm, “And then what? Where will the others sit?” 

“Relax,” Ryan rolled his eyes, leaning his head over the window, playfully winking at Rafe. “Someone’s in a bad mood, did you not get enough sleep last night?”

“Whatever.” Rafe scoffed, leaning against the car door, now faced away from his friend.

“Why are you in a bad mood?” Ryan giggled, poking Rafe’s cheek with his finger, merely for the latter to swerve away from the touch. “See, you’re grumpy.” 

“Fuck off,” Rafe slapped Ryan’s hand out of the way, “It’s nothing.” 

“Don’t lie,” Ryan muttered, slightly teasing him with his tone. “What is it? Is it your dad again? Is this about a girl?!”

“No!” Rafe was swift to respond, face flushing a deep shade of red at the assumption. “Drop it, it’s nothing.” 

“C’mon, tell me.” Ryan further cooed, “Now I’m curious.”

Rafe remained silent, fixing his attention on the bracelet loose around his wrist, hesitating before he muttered his next words, knowing how much of a tease Ryan was. 

“I have this friend…” He trailed off, causing Ryan to fully put his phone down, a cocky grin slowly tugging at his lips. “And he’s having problems with this girl he met.” 

“Okay, your friend has relationship problems.” Ryan repeated, emphasizing the friend.

“I wouldn’t really call it relationship problems, but– he’s confused? He knows they can’t be together but when she distanced herself from him it really bothered him.” He rambled under his breath, arms moving in front of his chest. “Because, why would she do that?! First throwing hints that she likes him, then barely even bothering to speak to him.” 

“So you like this girl,” Ryan started, “And she’s bossing you around, because you’re a loser at heart, and cannot handle rejection to save your life, am I right?” 

“I don– he doesn’t like her!” Rafe defensively shot back, grumbling at Ryan’s response. “This is about my friend, okay? Stop behaving like a dick.” 

“What do you want me to say?!” Ryan chuckled, “Your friend should stop being a pussy and pursue her, it’s not every day you find a girl who can sweep you off your feet.” 

“He can’t do that!” Rafe muffled through a frustrated sigh.

“Why not?” Ryan tilted his head with confusion, lips jutting into a pout. “Why are you so upset, this isn’t even about you!”

“I care for my friend,” Rafe stammered over his words, “I don’t want him to regret his decisions.” 

“Right,” Ryan nodded, not convinced, whatsoever. “Well tell your friend to stop being an idiot for me.” 

“Shut up.” Rafe rolled his eyes, unlocking the door to the backseat, and plopping himself on the leather seats. 

Everyone eventually made their way downstairs, with Ryan explaining the situation each time someone comes, informing them of the tight position they were put in. There were complaints every now and then, but they instantly accepted their fate, figuring out a plan for the cramped space they were dealing with. 

Sarah and John B took the passenger seat, Kiara made herself comfortable in JJ’s lap, leaving Cleo and Pope to barely squeeze themselves next to Rafe, who awaited your presence, as well as Ryan. 

After a million calls from your brother practically nagging you to hurry up, you eventually made your way downstairs, out of breath by the time you approached the car. Your eyes slightly widened at the scene of your friends squashed inside, causing you to halt as you opened the door, instantly met with the sight of Rafe, whose attention shifted in your direction once he caught a glimpse of you. 

His gaze wandered down your body, taking in the red dress you were wearing as it barely covered anything, hugging your figure perfectly, and exposing the majority of your flesh, complimenting the tone of your skin, where it should be hidden, not for his eyes to see.

“What the hell is going on here?” You asked, addressing Ryan with your question. “I’m not getting in.”

“Stop bitching around and get in!” Ryan shot back, stealing a glance in your direction from over his shoulder. 

“Where am I supposed to sit?” You huffed, eyes flickering back to Rafe.

The latter adjusted his position at your statement, flicking his nose with his thumb as he cleared his throat, the gesture causing your pulse to quicken at the silent invitation he offered. You knew exactly what he was hinting, but the idea of straddling Rafe’s lap for the rest of the car ride didn’t sound too good in the moment, especially with the unresolved tension seeping through every time the blond is in your presence.

“Why can’t we just use another car?!” You exclaimed, a breath stuttering out of your throat in the process. 

“Topper took Rafe’s car, because Ruthie’s bitch ass didn’t want to wait a little.” Sarah explained from the passenger seat, rolling her eyes over the mention of Ruthie. 

“Just get in!” Ryan groaned, “Quit acting like a fucking brat, we’re already late as is.”

“Fine,” you mumbled under your breath, nervously trailing your gaze back to Rafe, who seemed fairly amused by the fit you threw. “Can you scoot over?” 

“I’d love to,” he dramatically sighed, “But as you can see, there’s no space for me to do that.” 

You rolled your eyes at the lame excuse he used, shuffling to get in, clutching to the side of the door for support. Rafe spread out his legs, patting his lap for you to sit, the action causing you to flush with heat, as it crept past your neck, until it eventually settled on your face. You hesitated to sit, tensing as you nestled yourself on the edge of his lap, afraid he might grow uncomfortable with you fully relaxed.

You held onto the arm rest for support, plopping your head on Ryan’s seat, scoffing when you stole a glance in his direction, yet annoyed by how rude he was being. 

“Okay, now that everyone is here, I’ll take– ow!” Ryan’s sentence was cut off as you tangled your hand in his hair, striving to yank his head back. “What was that for?!” 

“That’s for being a bitch!” You pursed your lips into a thin line, gasping when Ryan flicked your forehead. “What are you doing, idiot? I just did my makeup!” 

Rafe slung an arm around your waist, pulling you with force until your back pressed directly against his firm chest, colliding with your figure in a thud. You slightly tensed under him, taken aback by the gesture, now that you’re able to detect his breath fanning over your exposed flesh, the sensation like feathers to your skin. 

“Drive.” Rafe ordered, before Ryan could swing back. “Didn’t you say we’re late?”

“Yeah, man.” Cleo agreed from Pope’s side, who was seated next to Rafe. “Stop fighting.” 

“Mhm, stop being a dick Ryan.” You snarked, causing Ryan to flip you off, all while exiting the drive through.

“You’re lucky we’re late.” Ryan exclaimed, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“You’re gonna start threatening me no–” your words caught in your throat when Rafe gave your hip a squeeze, shutting you up with the touch. 

“‘S enough.” he whispered, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, the gesture subtle, that none of your friends noticed it. 

A breath stuttered out of your chest, remaining calm as you attempted to return to the old position you were in, not realizing the amount of space you took off Rafe’s lap till now. However, your action was instantly interrupted by the hand around your hip, pressing you down when you shuffled to move. 

“Get comfortable,” he muttered through a breath, “It’s a long ride.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Rafe’s words caused shivers to run down your spine, caught off guard by the sudden boldness washing over him. The latter didn’t give you a chance to question him, fully wrapping his arms around your lower stomach, caging you with his hold, in case you decided to escape his grip. 

Music blasted through the speakers, as Sarah took charge of aux. It was nice, enjoying the company of your friends whom you missed the most, finally getting to spend time with them after so long. You sang along to the lyrics, distracting yourself from Rafe’s arms now slung loose in your lap, fingers lightly tracing circles to your thigh. 

He chuckled over the chaos, feigning oblivion to how flustered you grew, though he took notice with the way you tensed under his touch, a ragged breath exiting your chest. 

The next few minutes continued on, karaoke session breaking through the awkward tension seeping through, not letting it take over as one of your favorite songs started playing, immediately making you perk up with an excited gasp. 

You settled down when you felt your energy wear out, striving to save it for the party you were attending, knowing how grumpy you’d get when your stamina runs low. 

Your gaze trailed down to Rafe’s arms in your lap, growing intrigued when you caught sight of the appealing bracelet hugging his wrist, the turquoise and brown color mixture earning your interest. Forgetting yourself, you reached for the jewelry, taking the small beads in between your digits as you observed them with a glimpse of curiosity.

The contact of skin caught Rafe off guard, glancing over your shoulder with a hint of puzzlement shown through his expression. His lips curled into a smile, noticing the look of concentration spread across your face, too far gone to realize he was staring at you. 

Rafe admired with amusement, watching as you fiddled and toyed with the bracelet, angling his head to the side when you traced over the beads, taking it for granted and wrapping his hand around your fingers, the sight of his hand causing your breath to knock out of your chest, suddenly aware of Rafe’s presence. 

The boy grinned at your reaction, rubbing soothing circles to your palm. At this point, Rafe was fisting the entirety of your hand, fingers wrapping over your digits and swallowing your hand whole. Your eyes shifted over to the veins on his hand, trailing all the way up his forearm, the sight causing your throat to run dry, wanting nothing but to trace along each curve and line.

He took your silence as consent to further intertwine his fingers with yours, easily sliding his digits in between your clammy ones, sweaty due to how nervous you grew in the span of a minute. The action was subtle, covered by his figure so no one else could catch in on how sneaky it was.

He was acting as if this was an everyday thing– as if you weren’t still upset at him, as if he could do anything and you would lean into it like it means nothing.

And that, it drove you insane, well aware he was messing around to get a reaction out of you. He could have any girl he wanted, why would he settle for you, his best friend’s little sister, the one he barely acknowledges unless it's in a teasing manner?

You hated when he teased you, and how it would get to you, because it made you feel childish. Rafe saw you as nothing but a little sister, that at first, it didn’t bother you, but now– it was messing with your brain, making your heart ache every time he would address you, or flash a smile in your direction. 

Ending up in his lap with his fingers intertwined in yours made you realize a lot of things, one being your need for him. You wanted him, not as some joke for a laugh out of your friends, but for yourself. You wanted nothing but to have him, kiss him right then and there, even if it was wrong, forbidden. 

So you chose to enjoy this, whatever act Rafe was engaging in, it seemed to receive all your attention, captivating you whole and sweeping you off your feet. 

The rest of the car ride filled with the music playing in the background, atmosphere heavy with tension as Rafe rubbed soothing patterns to your hand, not daring to let go, even while conversing with everyone else. 

It brought a smile to your face, reducing the guilt swelling through your chest, wanting nothing but for it to last forever. 

You shuffled around in Rafe’s lap, in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, having been in the same one for a little too long. Your action was interrupted halfway through, hips stuttering when Rafe’s nails dug through your side, pressing you down in place with his hold. 

“Stop fucking moving.” He muttered over the music, his tone causing you to freeze in your spot.

Heat flushed your face, surprise washing over your expression as you took in his words, knowing exactly what he meant. While trying to make yourself comfortable, you completely looked past the bulge in his pants, growing within every time you brushed over his crotch area. 

That changes things. 

Rafe was hard, and there was a good chance you were the reason. 

This wasn't meant to happen, not right now, when your friends and brother were right there, not even mere inches away. 

Your breath heaved, avoiding his hardon every time it would poke you through the thin fabric of clothes separating you. As for the latter, he remained silent, groaning each time the car took a turn, the fraction of your body pressing to his crotch decreasing the control he barely held onto.  

A sigh of relief escaped your throat once Ryan parked the car, exiting as soon as he announced your arrival. You avoided meeting Rafe’s gaze, taking your friends’ side when they joined you down. 

Rafe disappeared out of your sight as soon as you entered the place the party was being hosted in, diverting your mind off of him, and focusing your attention on your friends, soon joined with Kelce once he took notice of your presence. 

Prior to your arrival, Kelce handed you a red solo cup, filled with cheap beer that you could barely swallow down. Besides that, things were fun, his company was a great distraction, avoiding Rafe even after he returned, now standing a few feet away from you, his burning gaze alarming you and stirring up your insides.

Rafe’s chest swelled with frustration, watching as you giggled over something Kelce said, all while his arm wrapped around your waist, as if it was the most casual thing ever. He gulped down the rest of his beer, squeezing it in his hold before he tossed it to the side, immediately aiming for another one. 

His jaw clenched with anger, confused by the sudden rage of jealousy washing over him, consuming his body as his blood boiled, wanting nothing but to move forward and punch the grin off Kelce’s face. He held back, though, well aware that he shouldn’t, because you weren’t his. 

You had freedom over who you dated, after all, you were Ryan’s sister, meaning you were off limits, forbidden to the touch, even if the only thing he wanted was to lay his hands on you, wishing he treasured you while you were still in his hold. 

It was all fun and games until Ruthie bumped into you, ‘accidently’ spilling her drink on your dress. You gasped, tugging the material off your body in an attempt of preventing it from seeping through the fabric, plan failing when the stickiness of the beer laid flat on your skin, staining through it. 

“What the fuck?” You cursed, gaze trailing back to Ruthie, who suppressed the smug smile spreading across her face. 

“Oops,” she started, cocking her head with a fake pout. “Didn’t mean to do that.” 

“What is wrong with you?” You slightly shover her shoulder, the gesture causing her to straighten up. 

“‘Fuck was that for?” She spat back, pushing you with full force. 

“Oh, so now we’re pushing?” You questioned, handing the cup you had in hand to Kelce, the latter instantly taking it in the process. “Okay, yeah, I don’t mind that.”

Rafe wasted no time when you shoved her yet again, your action riling into a heated fight as Ruthie attempted to grab your hair, merely for you to avoid it by fisting a handful of hers, pushing her head down and taking control of the situation. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this!” You grunted dodging her hand as it fumbled through the air, in an attempt to reach for your face. “Nuh uh, baby, keep those hands to yourself.”

Kelce took your side, striving to get you off of her, merely for Rafe to push him away once he was within your presence. He hovered behind you, instantly nudging Ruthie’s hand when her fingers tangled in the strips of your dress.

“Are you done?” Rafe questioned, observing as you poked out your tongue with concentration, wincing every time Ruthie tried to grab you, action interrupted within each time Rafe would dodge it. 

“Not yet.” You shot back, yanking her head back one more time before you let go. 

“What the fuck, dude?” Topper’s eyes narrowed with anger, quickly approaching the scene, and taking his girlfriend’s side as she rubbed her head with a salty expression spread across her face. “Why are you attacking her?” 

“Get a hold of your girlfriend first,” Rafe beat you to speaking, “Then come talking, she spilled beer all over her dress.” 

“It was an accident!” Ruthie defensively replied, tears welling in her eyes. 

“My ass!” You chanted, words muffled due to the alcohol in your system. 

“Why are you starting shit?” Topper shoved Rafe’s shoulder, ceasing the distance separating them. “First you let some chick hit my girlfriend, and now you’re defending her?” 

“Fuck off while I’m being nice, Topper.” Rafe warned, a smile forcing its way across his lips. “You know me, I’m crazy; I won’t hesitate to knock you the fuck out.” 

Topper’s jaw clenched at his words, avoiding his gaze when Rafe patted his shoulder, immediately reaching for the keys hanging low from his belt. 

“Next time, ask before you take my shit.” Rafe muttered, “And she’s not some fucking chick, you hear me?” 

“Let’s go, Ruthie.” Topper dismissed Rafe’s statement, “Kelce, you comin’?”

“Right, yeah.” Kelce cleared his throat, giving you a hug before joining Topper, who took his leave after his argument with Rafe. 

“Are you okay?” Rafe question, gaze travelling down your beer stained dress.

“Better than ever!” You flash him a sheepish grin, slightly stumbling over your feet. 

“You’re a mess.” Rafe muttered under his breath, clicking his teeth as he took off his jacket, and slinging it over your shoulders. “Wear this for now.” 

“I’m okay.” You attempted to take it off, giving in when he zipped it up, the jacket swallowing your body whole. 

“Jus’ wear it.” He insisted. 

You brought the material close to your nose, taking a whiff of the fabric, immediately intoxicated by the scent of his woody cologne flaring through your nostrils. 

One thing about Rafe, he smelled good, so good it never failed to make you weak, melting every time you got a whiff of his aroma. 

The sun fully set down, and eventually, people started leaving. Rafe kept you company throughout the rest of the night, complaining every time he would steal your drink, trying to limit the alcohol you consumed. 

John B took Rafe’s car after Sarah blacked out and accidently threw up over someone, indicating the state she was in. Cleo, JJ and Kiara left as well, announcing how tired they were, deciding to end the night off earlier than intended. 

It didn’t take long for the rest of you to join them, with Pope offering to drive after he noticed how far gone Ryan was, passing out as soon as he was in the passenger seat. You took your side of the car, exhaustingly staring out of the window while you let the silence seep through, the sound of the engine the only thing heard throughout the ride back. 

Rafe made himself comfortable next to you, using the fact that he was charging his phone as an excuse when you asked why he was so close, as there was plenty of space to his side. 

A scoff left your throat as your gaze travelled down to his phone, difficult to avoid with how bright it was. However, the moment you caught sight of his screen, your eyes remained glued to it, growing intrigued as he scrolled through instagram reels. 

Your feed filled with makeup and fashion related posts, that when your attention lingered on Rafe’s, it slightly caught you off guard over the big difference between them. The clips were hilarious, so funny you accidentally chuckled over one, your giggles earning Rafe’s attention as he turned in your direction. 

“What was that?” He mumbled. 

“What?” You questioned, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

“Was that a giggle?” He mused back, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” You cleared your throat, shifting your gaze back to the window, in an attempt to avoid his eyes. 

Rafe chuckled at your reaction, relaxing back in his seat, this time with his phone angled in your direction, in case you decided to change your mind. Spoiler alert; you did, eventually melting into Rafe’s side, head slightly leaning against his arm.

Rafe contently enjoyed the closure of your touch, relaxing when you slinged your hands around his arm, for the purpose of toying with the bracelet you took interest in earlier. 

You didn’t know whether it was the alcohol in your system, or the desire seizing control of your body, but you let this play out. No matter how difficult and off-putting it was, you wanted to enjoy it while it lasted, even for a moment. 

The boy shut off his phone at the sight, letting the darkness seep through as he whispered his next words, voice merely loud enough for you to hear. 

“You like it?” He hushed out. 

“Hmm?” You drowsily hummed back, sleep heaving your eyes. 

“The bracelet.” He clarified, “Do you like it? It caught your attention earlier.”

“It’s nice.” You beamed, taken aback when he withdrew his arm from your hold. 

Rafe took the bracelet off, seeking your hand through the dimness before he slid the jewelry around your wrist, adjusting it as he did so. 

“There,” He stifled out a laugh, “Now it’s yours.” 

“That easy?” You shot back with disbelief, fingers tracing over the beads. 

“Mhm…” He trailed off, voice groggy with tiredness. “Consider it an apology.”

You chuckled at his response, falling into comfortable silence for the rest of the ride back, and if Pope witnessed what merely happened between you two, he kept that to himself, itching to go back and inform his girlfriend all about it. 

Pope helped Ryan get to his room once you arrived, having to practically carry him over his shoulders with how blacked out he was. Rafe on the other hand, followed in your steps, coming to a halt when you approached your room. 

The door unlocked with a click, hesitating to make any noise when you noticed Kiara sprawled on your, deep in her slumber. You turned back to Rafe with a smile, clutching to the doorknob as you spoke. 

“Thank you.” You said, causing the latter to snicker. 

“For what?” He shot back. 

“I don’t know?” You tilted your head, “For helping me pull out Ruthie’s hair– is that valid?” 

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line for a moment. “Well, then, I’ll leave you to it, let me know if you need anything.”

“Mhm, will do.” You hummed, watching as Rafe awkwardly shuffled around, itching to say something, yet hesitating as he turned in the other direction, striving to take his leave. 

Boldness overcame you as you leaned forward, taking the side of his face in between your fingers in an attempt to press a kiss to his cheek, plan backfiring when he slightly turned, lips landing on the corner of his mouth.

Rafe stiffened, pupils dilating as you leaned back, obviously as shocked as he was. Your heartbeat increased in under a second, the sound thumping through your ears, that you were afraid Rafe might hear it over the silence. 

“I–” you stammered, feeling your throat run dry. “That wasn’t supposed to–”

“Goodnight.” Rafe mused back, lips curling into a smile once he noticed how flustered you grew. “Sleep well.” 

“Goodnight.” You muttered through a breath, scrambling to shut the door. 

And if Rafe turned into a grinning mess once you were out of sight, it was definitely not because you kissed him. 

If that even counts as one, as you were obviously intoxicated due to the alcohol in your system. 

a/n all support is v much appreciated! sorry this ones long 🤒 i tried to make it short but yeha... i also half assed it towards the end since i got tired so im sorry wahhh ALSO the messages between them are making a comeback next ch sighh sorry for the lack of funniness im getting rusty 😥😥

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[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON ⟢ you're perfect

x FEM!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: 4473

GENRE: angst

CONTENT WARNING: talks of insecurity, if this is too triggering please do not read, my dms are always open

the bass of the music thudded through the house, reverberating in your chest as you stepped through the packed crowd. you had come with your friends—kie, jj, john b, sarah, and pope—but it didn’t take long for everyone to scatter. parties were always like that, a chaotic mess of faces and fleeting conversations.

you weren’t here for the party, though. you were here for rafe.

he’d mentioned he’d be around tonight, and despite your better judgment, you couldn’t help but want to see him. you hadn’t texted him yet—part of you wanted the thrill of stumbling upon him, a magnetic pull drawing you closer until you found him.

jj was somewhere near the beer pong table, obnoxiously yelling about sinking a cup. sarah and john b had disappeared upstairs, and you’d last seen kie and pope heading toward the kitchen. so now, it was just you, weaving through the maze of bodies.

as you made your way toward the back of the house, you heard a voice from around the corner.

“she’s so desperate, though,” one girl said, laughing.

your footsteps faltered.

“i mean, come on. you’d think she’d have some self-respect,” another chimed in. “following rafe cameron around like a lost puppy? it’s pathetic.”

“rafe doesn’t even like y/n. he’s just playing with her. you know how he is.”

“did you even see her? as if anyone would go for a girl like that,” one of them spoke up, causing a few girls to snicker.

your stomach twisted, an icy rush spilling down your spine. you stayed behind the wall, frozen, unable to move. they couldn’t see you, but you could see them—three girls in skimpy dresses, plastic cups in hand, giggling like their words weren’t slicing through you.

your first instinct was to roll your eyes. they didn’t know you, didn’t know anything about you and rafe. you were sure of that. but their words stuck, digging deeper than you’d like to admit.

you blamed the alcohol. that’s what it was. you’d had a couple of drinks, and now everything felt amplified. it wasn’t like their petty gossip meant anything. right?

shaking off the unease, you turned away and kept moving. you weren’t going to let them ruin your night.

the heat from the bonfire stung your skin as you went outside , the flickering orange light casting long shadows on the backyard. rafe was still standing there with topper and kelce, laughing over something that was probably way less funny than they thought it was. a few other people were hanging around the fire, drinking and chatting in their own little world.

as you neared them, you caught sight of two girls standing just a little too close to rafe. one of them was leaning in, a flirtatious laugh escaping her lips as her hand brushed against his arm. she was dressed in a tiny, skin-tight dress, her hair styled to perfection, her eyes fixed on rafe as though the entire world was invisible to her.

you didn’t mean to stare. really, you didn’t. but your feet felt like lead, and your heart began to race in your chest.

rafe was looking at the girl, but it wasn’t the way she was looking at him. his face was a mask of indifference, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes didn’t linger on her. He didn’t flirt back. he didn’t lean in. he was just there, as if waiting for the interaction to pass.

still, the moment felt suffocating. your chest tightened, a sick feeling spreading through your stomach. you tried to breathe through it, but every breath felt shallow. the alcohol in your veins wasn’t helping, either. it was supposed to loosen you up, to keep you confident, but right now, it just felt like a weight pressing down on you.

you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them—the girl, smiling too wide, touching his arm as if she had some claim on him, and rafe, standing still like a piece of furniture, polite but distant.

what am i doing here?

you swallowed, the bile rising in your throat. yout hands clenched at your sides as you willed yourself not to cry. not now, not in front of everyone, especially not in front of him.

the girl laughed again, leaning in a little closer, and the world around you started to blur. you blinked hard, trying to steady your thoughts. focus. you’re fine. you’re okay.

but you didn’t feel okay. you didn’t feel fine at all. the girl’s flirtation, the way she was trying so hard to get rafe’s attention, felt like a punch to the gut. it wasn’t the way he was looking at her—it was the way it made you feel. like you didn’t belong here, like maybe you weren’t the one he cared about at all.

as much as you hated yourself for it, you felt small. invisible. disposable.

you could hear laughter in the distance, people shouting across the yard, music thumping from inside the house. but all you could hear was the rapid beating of your own heart in your ears. the world around you felt too big, too loud, and you didn’t want to be part of it anymore.

you turned away without even realizing you’d made the decision, your mind already made up.

it wasn’t like you wanted to leave, but you didn’t want to be here. not anymore. not while that girl was touching him. not while you felt like a stranger in your own skin.

you didn’t want to cry. you couldn’t let anyone see you break.

so you walked away, quick, almost a blur of movement, dodging between bodies, weaving through groups of people. you kept your head down, ignored the music that pounded in your chest, and just focused on getting to the front door.

when you pushed through it and stepped into the cool night air, the tears you were holding back finally spilled over. you didn’t let out a sob or anything loud. you just blinked quickly, wiping your face as the tears soaked your cheeks.

you just needed to get home.

you don’t know exactly how you managed to make it to your car. you just did, a mixture of emotion, alcohol, and numbness driving your every step.

the keys felt slippery in your hand as you fumbled to unlock the door. you wanted to tell yourself you were being ridiculous, that none of this mattered, that rafe wasn’t even interested in those girls—but the truth was, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t enough.

you slid into the front seat and slammed the door behind you, sinking into the leather. you stared at the steering wheel for a long moment, the soft thrum of your heartbeat the only sound you could hear.

no matter how hard you tried to push it away, the sick feeling in your stomach wouldn’t fade.

the drive home was a blur. you gripped the steering wheel. the streetlights flickered by in a haze of orange and yellow, but you hardly noticed. every thought in your head felt like a tangled mess, too many voices fighting for attention, none of them kind.

what did you think was going to happen? he doesn’t care about you like that. they’re everything you’re not.

you swallowed hard, trying to push the thoughts away. the cool night air through the cracked window was supposed to help, but it didn’t. nothing helped. the pit in your stomach only seemed to grow deeper with each passing mile.

you pulled into the driveway, the headlights casting long shadows across the yard, the house looming in front of you. it was too quiet, too still. your parents were never home on nights like this. always out, always too busy with their own lives.

you didn’t mind the silence. usually, it was your refuge, a place where you could think, breathe. but tonight, it felt suffocating.

you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car, your legs feeling like they were made of lead. your feet moved automatically, leading you toward the front door. the house was dark, silent. no comforting voices, no footsteps echoing through the halls. it was just you.

you dragged yourself up the stairs, the house creaking underfoot as you made your way to your room. you closed the door softly behind you, locking it for good measure, just in case.

the room felt cold, sterile, as though the four walls were closing in around you. you let your bag fall to the floor, kicking off your shoes as you went straight to the bed, sinking into the plush mattress. you needed a moment, just to breathe, to think.

but thinking made everything worse.

you squeezed your eyes shut, clutching the blankets tight in your fists. you’re fine. you’re okay. you repeated the mantra to yourself, trying to remind yourself of the strength you had built over the past few years.

you weren’t that girl anymore. the one who let herself get trampled on. the one who let someone crush her confidence, making her feel small, insignificant. that was the girl your ex had torn apart—leaving you with nothing but self-doubt and confusion. but you had rebuilt yourself. you’d found your strength again, slowly and painfully.

but now? now, it felt like it had all come undone in a single night.

the thoughts kept spiraling, gaining speed. the image of rafe with that girl, her hand brushing his arm, her laugh like nails on a chalkboard. it wasn’t just her, though. it was the way rafe didn’t seem to care about her at all, but it made you wonder—does he care about me like that?

you took a deep breath, but it only made things worse. the tightness in your chest returned, squeezing harder this time. your breathing became shallow.

no, no, no… don’t do this now.

but it was too late. the panic had already begun to set in. the tightness in your chest, the dizziness in your head—it all collided in a wave of panic that left you gasping for air.

you gasped again, but it didn’t feel like enough. you couldn’t breathe. you couldn’t get a single breath deep enough to steady the wild pounding of your heart. it was like your whole body was rebelling against you, refusing to let you be calm.

you slid further down into the bed, curling into yourself, your knees pulled to your chest as you pressed your hands against your face, trying to hold it all in. you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, your chest, your fingertips. every pulse felt louder, faster, as though the world was closing in, and you couldn’t escape it.

it felt like you were suffocating. like everything you had worked so hard for had been ripped away in an instant. the confidence you’d spent the last three years building up—piece by piece—after your ex had destroyed it… it felt like it was slipping through your fingers.

the anger, the hurt—it wasn’t just about rafe. it was everything. you had fought so hard to be strong, to never feel the way you did back then, but here you were again. vulnerable. weak.

your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your body trembling with the effort. you squeezed your eyes shut tighter, trying to force the tears away, but they came anyway, hot and fast, stinging your skin.

why does it hurt so much?

you buried your face in the pillow, muffling the soft sobs that shook your body. you didn’t want to be seen. you didn’t want anyone to know how badly you were falling apart inside. you couldn’t even understand why it hurt so much, but it did.

the clock on the nightstand ticked steadily, but you couldn’t stop the overwhelming weight in your chest. your panic attack felt like a slow-motion car crash, like there was nothing you could do to stop the destruction. you were losing yourself again, losing the strength that had been so hard-won.

it’s just a party. it doesn’t mean anything. he’s not like that.

but even as you told yourself those things, the tears kept coming.

the next few days felt like a blur. each morning, you woke up with that same pit in your stomach, the same weight pressing on your chest. everything felt heavy, even your thoughts. you couldn’t stop replaying that night in your head—the words from the girls at the party, the sight of rafe talking to that other girl. it felt like the world was closing in on you, like you were drowning in things you couldn’t control.

each class was a blur of noise and movement that barely registered. you kept your head down, focused on the words in front of you, even though they didn’t make sense. every now and then, your mind wandered back to the party—the way you’d left without a word, the way your thoughts had spiraled into something ugly and self-doubting.

and now, rafe was everywhere.

at school, you kept your distance from him. you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him, not without that feeling creeping up again, making your heart race. every time rafe tried to talk to you, you found an excuse to slip away.

one morning, you were heading to your locker, trying to focus on getting through the day. and then you felt his presence behind you, just a little too close. you could tell he was about to say something, his voice barely above a whisper, but before he could even open his mouth, you cut him off.

“i can’t right now,” you muttered, barely glancing back at him. you didn’t give him a chance to respond, walking quickly down the hallway, your heart hammering in your chest.

the next time, it was in the cafeteria. you were sitting with kie, jj, pope, and sarah, trying to pretend everything was fine, trying to ignore the emptiness that followed you everywhere. rafe slid into the seat next to you, his hand almost brushing against yours as he leaned in.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice filled with that warmth you once loved, the one that made everything feel okay. “can we talk for a sec?”

you couldn’t breathe. it felt like the walls were closing in on you. you forced a smile, a fake one, and gave a quick glance to kiara. “i need to go to kie,” you said, standing up abruptly. you didn’t even wait for him to respond as you walked away, not sparing him another glance.

it wasn’t that you didn’t care. you did, more than you’d like to admit. but it was easier to keep him at arm's length. easier to shut him out before you had to face the things you were feeling—the doubts, the insecurities that had risen to the surface after that night.

you couldn’t handle being vulnerable right now. not with him.

but rafe wasn’t backing down. every time he saw you, his expression shifted from casual indifference to something else—something you couldn’t quite place. he’d give you a small smile, almost like he was trying to reassure you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to respond in kind. you weren’t ready to talk.

and then came today. the tension was unbearable. rafe’s presence was suffocating, and you were so, so tired of pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

you were walking down the hallway after fifth period, deep in thought, trying to figure out how to survive the rest of the day when you felt someone grab your arm. you froze, spinning to face him.

“hey,” rafe said, his voice steady but with an edge of concern you couldn’t ignore. “can we talk, again?”

you pulled your arm back, forcing a smile that felt unnatural on your face. “i really can’t right now, rafe,” you said quickly, looking anywhere but at him. “i need to go meet kie for lunch.”

you could hear the frustration in his voice, even though he tried to hide it. “come on, stop avoiding me. what’s going on?”

you swallowed hard, your chest tight. the last thing you wanted was to unravel in front of him. the last thing you needed was to let the tears you’d been holding back slip out.

“i’m fine,” you said, voice clipped, stepping back. “really. i just… i need some space.”

rafe’s brows furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. he wanted to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. you turned on your heel and walked away, your heart pounding in your chest.

the rest of the day passed in a blur, but somehow, you knew this moment was inevitable. rafe wasn’t going to let you keep shutting him out forever. he couldn’t. and you couldn’t keep avoiding the truth.

when the final bell rang and you were making your way to the parking lot, you saw him again. this time, there was no dodging him. he was standing in front of your car, waiting. his arms were crossed, and the look on his face was more serious than you’d ever seen it.

you stopped, heart racing. your stomach flipped. there was no escaping this now.

“rafe,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “please, not now.”

he shook his head. “no, this is getting ridiculous. you’ve been pushing me away all week. what’s going on? what did i do?”

you took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. just say it. your mouth was dry, but you forced the words out.

“i think we need to break up.”

rafe’s eyes widened, confusion flashing across his face. “what? what do you mean? why? is it something i—”

you cut him off before he could finish. “it’s not you, rafe. it’s me.” the words were like a punch to your own gut as they left your mouth. you could see his jaw tighten, his brows furrowing as he tried to understand.

his face fell, his expression unreadable as he stepped closer, almost like he was trying to reach you. “what? no, we don’t—”

“i just… can’t. i’m sorry,” you interrupted, forcing the words out.

before he could say anything else, before he could try to fix it or ask why, you turned away. the door to the hallway was just a few steps away, and you didn’t look back. you couldn’t.

“don’t do this,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “i don’t get it. just… tell me what’s going on. we can talk through this, we—”

you left him standing there, his voice calling after you, but you didn’t stop. you just kept walking.

your hands were shaking at your sides. you couldn’t stand there and explain it. you couldn’t tell him how the doubts, the insecurities, and the hurt from that night, and many more, had eaten away at you. you couldn’t admit how broken you felt.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered

you slammed the door behind you as you walked out of the school building, your chest tight with emotion. you hadn’t wanted to hurt him. you hadn’t wanted any of this. but it was easier to push him away than face what was really happening inside of you.

as you drove home, the silence in the car felt louder than ever. you wiped your eyes, feeling the tears burn, but you didn’t let them fall. you couldn’t. not now. not when you’d just made the hardest decision of your life.

the weekend felt like a stom. a quiet, lonely and depressing storm that dragged on and on, leaving you completely drained. you stayed in your room, avoiding anyone and everything. you couldn’t stop the thoughts that kept eating away at you—about rafe, about yourself, about everything you had tried to ignore. the silence between you two felt suffocating, and every time you thought about him, your chest tightened, your stomach twisted into knots.

you hated how you felt. it felt like the pieces of you that had been so carefully put together over the past few years were slowly falling apart. the self-doubt, the insecurity, the overwhelming sense of not being good enough—it all came rushing back, drowning out everything else.

you hated the way your skin seemed too tight, like you were trapped in a body that didn’t feel like your own. you couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. every inch of you felt like a disappointment. your hair, limp and lifeless. your skin, pale and dull. your eyes, tired and red from crying too much.

you hadn’t realized how much of your worth had been tied to him until now. all those times you’d spent together, feeling special, feeling like you mattered… now it just felt like you were invisible again, like nothing about you was enough.

sitting in your room, you stared at the mirror, barely recognizing the person looking back at you. your hair was messy, your eyes tired and swollen from crying. you just felt... ugly. it wasn’t just the way you looked, but the way you felt in your own skin. everything felt off, like you were a shadow of who you used to be.

why did i do this? you thought, running your hands over your face, wiping away the last traces of tears. he deserves better than this... than me.

the thoughts wouldn’t stop, and the heavier your heart felt, the more you wanted to retreat from the world. i should’ve never broken up with him. he’s probably better off without me.

just as you were about to bury yourself under the covers, you heard a knock on your door.

“hey, it’s me.”

his voice floated in, barely above a whisper. “can i come in?”

your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to open the door. you had no idea what to say to him, no idea how to explain what was going on in your head. but when the door creaked open a little, rafe stepped inside, looking hesitant but determined. his eyes softened when he saw you sitting on your bed, your posture slumped, your gaze avoiding his.

his eyes searched you with a mix of concern and something else you couldn’t quite place.

you didn’t move. you just sat there, feeling small and fragile. you didn’t want to talk. you didn’t want to explain. but rafe wasn’t going to leave without answers.

he walked over to the bed, sitting at the edge, but not too close. he was careful, like he didn’t want to invade your space.

“why’d you do it?” his voice was quiet, but there was no hiding the hurt in it. “why’d you break up with me?”

you couldn’t meet his eyes. you couldn’t find the words, not without feeling like you’d fall apart. instead, you just shook your head, staring at your hands in your lap.

his voice was soft, but there was a hurt in it that made your chest tighten. “i don’t understand, y/n. we were… we were good, weren’t we?”

you squeezed your eyes shut, a wave of guilt crashing over you. you wanted to tell him everything—everything that was going on in your head, all the reasons you felt like you weren’t enough. but the words felt stuck in your throat.

“i… i just…” you started, but the words failed you. you didn’t even know how to explain. you were a mess, lost and confused.

rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but still patient. “hey, look at me. please.”

you didn’t want to, but you did. you couldn’t stand the hurt in his eyes, couldn’t stand the fact that you were the one causing it.

when you finally met his gaze, his expression softened. “i don’t know what’s happening, y/n, but i can’t help if you won’t tell me.”

you opened your mouth, but the words just wouldn’t come. everything felt so overwhelming. the pressure in your chest, the weight of everything you were feeling, and the fear that rafe would see you for what you really were.

“i just… i wasn’t..." you took a deep breath, you felt like you needed to throw up. your stomach was turning, “i’m not okay,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “i thought i could fix myself, but i can’t. i feel like... like i’m not good enough, rafe. for you. for anyone.”

rafe didn’t say anything at first. you could hear him breathing, steady and slow. then, his hand reached out, gently touching yours. you flinched at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“you’re wrong,” he said quietly. “you’re more than enough. more than anyone could ever ask for.”

“you are good enough,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you are everything to me. don’t you see that?”

you felt the lump in your throat grow, your eyes welling up again. you wanted to believe him, so badly, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you weren’t.

you shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes again. “you don’t get it,” you muttered. “you deserve someone better than me. someone who isn’t a mess, someone who actually has their shit together.”

“stop.” rafe’s voice was firm, but not harsh. “you’re not a mess. you’re human, y/n, and that’s okay. i don’t need you to be perfect. i just need you to be you.”

you closed your eyes, his words sinking into you like a balm to a wound. why did it hurt so much? you thought, still shaking with emotion.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the tears. “i’m so sorry for pushing you away. i don’t know how to fix this.”

rafe didn’t say anything at first. he just pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his warmth surrounding you in the darkness of your room. he didn’t ask for explanations, didn’t try to make you feel better with empty words. he just held you.

“i don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you shook your head, tears running down your face. “i feel so, so disgusted, by myself. and i don't even know why.”

“you don’t have to fix it,” rafe said gently. “you don’t have to be anything other than yourself. i’m not going anywhere, okay? i just want to help you through this.”

you looked at him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw the softness in his eyes. the care. the concern.

you still felt too broken to believe it, but for the first time in days, you let yourself feel like maybe, just maybe, it could be okay.

[memser]

mcr blogger dash in 2025

🪳 buggerard

still so much debate about sexualizing gerards moans in Self-Flagellant but no ones talking about why in that muffled intro mikey is asked to leave the studio??

#im telling you something happened #frerard solos dni

🌫️ coquettegee Follow

yes in the new doc lindsey had any pronouns on her intro card but so did gerard. i think they just used his as a template and its some sort of error

🔁 singleangelicnote

all your posts are still using he/him for gerard and this sounds terribly gendercrit get help op

🔁 coquettegee

i see him as more of a femboy type and i have since dd, don't try to police me

🔁 kondemnedkadaver

???

#CAN WE KILL THIS GUY

🐕 omgee

ROSY HAS A SISTER!!!!!!!!

#WORLD PEACE

🎙️amptits

"november 22nd of 2024 right before the teaser dropped" uh oh guys

Anonymous asked

when will you people address the themes of necrophilia in the limited vinyl comic

🪨 fyeahfoundationsofdecay

sorry i didnt have 200 dollars and i dont care

#the larger mcr conscious has forgotten he jerked it to horror movies

🌄 infectionpiece

a bralette and the comfort flannel

#i hauve

🧘 clergy-xxx

I have some. bad news. Frank did not

yt.be/78hskUi83Hn2nb67mdns00

🤹‍♀️ cryptclown

10 MINUTE AD WALL FOR THAT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WHAT I THOUGHT PEOPLE WERE JUST JOKING. OR INSANE

✴️ grifties Follow

selling ltd edition frank iero binder!! it still has the skeleton decals and it still glows in most low light. from the first run with that chemical they had to recall so probably don't wear it without a shirt on top or if you don't have insurance lol. 30 bucks just dm me.

🧘crypt-xxx

i respect the hustle BUT WE HAVE STOP RESELLING THE BIOHAZARD MERCH

🦕 toro-saurus

October 25th 2022

RAY😍😍😍😍 RAY TORO🤗🤗🤗🤯🤯🤯🤯RAAYYYYYY

🔁 toro-saurus

omg my old post i was so correct

#meeee when the new single dropped #how does he find the time truly

🤺 singleangelicnote

Guys since why does that new pope follow Gerard's private account on Globeus theres only like 80 people on there she HAS to know

#THE GAY POPE???

🪳 buggerard

dude i lost my implant magnet 🥲 im using my old touchscreen to post on here

#gawd im having swarm tour livestream flashbacks

🧘 clergy-xxx

I actually went to a few shows during danger days and mikey would often just turn around during the destroya incidents. theres video on youtube if you can get past the ad walls

🤹‍♀️ cryptclown

oh okay super awesome!!! so mikey leaving during antics isnt new. did frank leave too?

🪨 fyeahfoundationsofdecay

does anyone remember when the heavn photos came out. i had a job then and i saw them literally a year later

🔁 buggerard

november 22nd of 2024 right before the teaser dropped

#wild night to be online tbh

🌬️ mesmer

i got concussed what happened sunday

🔁 mesmer

THEY DID WHAT

[its-a-me-mango]

THANK YOU ALL FOR AN AMAZING YEAR! HERE'S TO MANY MORE!

Alllright, final thing to close off today, and what better than with a great big THANK YOU to everyone for sticking with me for a whole year! Regardless of if you’ve been around since I first joined or if you only just followed me today, thank you so much for your support of me and my work. Knowing there are so many fantastic and wonderful individuals who all enjoy what I make is just indescribable, I get to wake up and enjoy creating things I love for the series I love so dearly all while so many amazing people enjoy what I make too. I really can’t put into words how thankful I am for everyone who follows me but genuinely from the bottom of my heart, thank you, thank you all for an amazing year and here’s hoping for many more to come!

Now, I do have a few special dedications to a few certain individuals, if I didn’t get the chance to include you PLEASE don’t think that I don’t value you in any way! There were so many cool and talented people that I wanted to thank but I simply didn’t have time to do so! You are all so important to me and it does kill me a little that I can’t thank everyone, but I am just one guy at the end of the day so again please don’t take it personally, I am still so thankful for everyone and I want you to know this. <3

ANYWAY LONG ASS BLOCK OF TEXT UNDER THE READ MORE

So, in no order in particular

@lizaluvsthis @shygirl4991 @b-r-i-n-g-x - I’m putting you all together as one because I always see you guys working as a group so it feels wrong to split you guys up lol. You were all some of the first people I ever saw in the SMG4 fandom and your contributions inspired me so much to make my own stuff too! Everything you guys make always has so much heart and soul put into it, Brewing Romance, Split into 3’s, Gay Ogres, they’re all some of the first projects I remember seeing and for that I wanna thank you guys for motivating me to make and create my own things within this fandom! Even if you guys aren’t as active now or have moved on from those projects, I still hold them dear to me so keep making and creating because you guys are all so amazing at it! <3

@mothsbakery - Moth my beloved friend, I don’t know where to start, when I first got into SMG4, I was so worried about sharing it with my friends because I was worried it would somehow get turned against me in some way (blame that damn trauma lol), so having you take a passing interest in it was such a major relief to me. I’m so glad I’ve been able to sit down with you and watch the few episodes that we have because they’ve been so much fun! I’m so glad that we’re friends even after all these years. I know I’m not always the best at keeping in touch but I do genuinely appreciate your friendship and all that we’ve done together. Please keep making and creating and enjoying what you love, seeing you come to my DM’s with your newest musical piece is always such a joy to listen to and it’s been so wonderful to watch you improve over the years! Keep being amazing Moth, I’ll chat to you soon I promise! <3

@strange0-0storm - STOOOORM!!! (POINTING AT YOU POINTING AT YOU) FREAK!!!!/J I’m kidding lol, Storm I am so glad I’ve gotten the chance to talk with you, even if it's brief, you are so fun to talk to that I can’t wait to get the chance to chat with you again about OC’s or just anything really! Your work is always so yummy, whether it's SMG4, Gravity Falls, Popee The Performer, and more, your art is always just so full of character and it just makes me wanna keep doing what I’m doing and it helps me not worry about branching out at some point to something else. No matter what I will always come back to your work because it's so amazing and it’s even better knowing it’s made but such an equally amazing person, stay awesome Storm! (also RhythmDoctor 4 life they should kiss and make out more JHBBSGHBSGH) <3

@bluesbox - Blue! Dude you are so freaking cool I cannot put it into words, not only is your work fantastic and such a joy to interact with, but you’re also so dedicated to characters lore and interactions that I can’t help but wanna be just like that! I’ll never forget when you first dropped the TSB lore presentation that shit was SO WILD, knowing there's someone who's so invested in other peoples OC’s (including my own!) to such an extent is honestly so amazing, and it really pushes me to invest more time into my own work! Knowing there’s someone out there who genuinely takes so much interest in it is so uplifting, so thank you for always wanting to know more about what I make as well as everyone else, we need more amazing people like you Blue, keep being you! (also PS, the way you give Mango glasses is probably my favourite thing someone has given him, it makes me so happy to see every time, don’t tell anyone shhhhh) <3

@libbytwq - LIBBY, LIBBY OMG I don’t think I’ve ever met another SMG4 fan who just gets the same sense of humor as me so well, I love being terminally on Tumblr and having someone else who is also terminally on Tumblr, it’s so refreshing lmao! Lore not only are you an amazing person to talk to, you are also so insanely talented to match, all of your work has so much charm and passion put into it that I can just sense it with every piece, I always want to know more with your characters like I NEED the full SMGL:E lore or else I will explode and die, that’s how good you are at getting people invested in your work! You’re so great at creating interesting and engaging characters/stories that it motivates me so much with my own work. You have so much love for what you do it’s so wonderful to see, please keep creating forever and always because your work is such an absolute joy to see. I love getting the chance to chat with you so much and I can’t wait to chat with you again, thank you for being such an amazing friend Libby! <3

@hamlos - Hamlos, your work is truly incredible. I really can’t express it enough, it’s so dynamic and flexible in such a beautiful way, everything you make is just so amazing and that's just talking about your art itself, the characters you have are so interesting I always want to know more about them, especially Cardiac I seriously love him so much and having him paired with Mango is so wonderful, they really go together so well! I’ve never had anyone go so crazy (positive) over my characters before and It’s so amazing to see, every time you come to me with your amazing work it’s always such a nice thing to see! I know I am not always the best at responding but I do always see and read everything you send me and it always leaves me with a big smile on my face. Even if you’re not super into SMG4 right now, thank you for all that you’ve done and all that you’ve made for me, HeartBeet will always have a special place in my heart and I hope it does for you too, they are gay after all lol. <3

@neo91502 @hexsie @aquaproductions - Grouping you all together even though you all couldn’t be more unique and individual, every single one of you is so special and amazing to talk to, I legit get so excited any time one of you joins a VC with me because all of you are so fun to hang out with for so many reasons! Neo omg you are honestly such a nice person to chat to and be around, you’re always so fun to hang out with and you’ve convinced me to sit down one day and listen to Epic the Musical because every time you go crazy over the word Epic, I can’t help but find it so cute lol. Nova your obsession with Hex3 is so sweet and I’m genuinely glad you’re having so much fun with it, seeing you go on rambling about your OC’s will always be such a joy to see and you know what yes one day I will draw Hex3 just for you, gimme a second though (dies first /j). And Aqua, I had no idea how much of a sweetheart you were to talk to, you are honestly so cool and I’m so glad to have you in my DM’s sending me amazing fanart that you know I’ll like, thank you so much for being so awesome and I’m giving you platonic smooches right back at ya so watch out!!! All of you are again so amazing and I can’t wait to keep chatting with all of you! <3

MY BELOVED WHO SHAN’T BE NAMED BUT I KNOW YOU’RE READING THIS!!! - Hai babe, listen, I can’t believe the whole time you’ve been dating me I’ve been an SMG4 fan, that must be so embarrassing to you lol /j but thank you so much forever and always for sticking with me. You are truly the light of my life, I treasure every moment we spend together and I am waiting for the future to come so that I can spend it with you forever and always. Thank you for not only indulging in my interests with me, but for enjoying me for who I am, everytime you call me cute for getting giddy over SMG4 it honestly makes my heart flutter and it reminds me of why I love you so much, I wouldn’t be who I am without you and I hope you can say the same thing for me. I cannot wait to get the chance to see you again in person, I need to kiss you sloppy style soooooo bad it's making me bark and growl grrr grrr bARK BARK BARK anyway I love you so much and I always will. (I will forever kiss you for getting me Smug I can’t believe you got him, he’s like a fucked up and evil son to me) <3

@ominus-potato @theartistisme43 @coralalala64 - Grouping you all together even though I have different things to say about all of you, but regardless, all of you are such amazingly talented people that I’d love to get to chat with you all properly one day, even if I’ve talked with you guys a bit it’s not enough! I’d love to get to know you guys better at some point lol. Ominus your work is just so good I can’t help but feel happy anytime I see it. I promise one day we will meet at a convention, I’m so mad I missed you once I won’t let it happen again! Cantro, your work is incredible!!! Every time I see it I’m so amazed with what you’ve made that it just gets me excited to see what else you can create, I am manifesting with all my strength that if you do ever decide to apply as a SMG4 machinima artist, that you get it because god damn you deserve it! And Coral, THE CREATURE CREATOR!!! I love your lil creatures so much, and OMG you have to teach me how to do such amazing pencil work, your work always inspires me so much and I’m so glad I’ve gotten the chance to chat with you a lil, your gif collection is truly frightening but in the best way possible. Again all of you are so amazing so please keep doing what you’re best at! <3

@tiredsmashbros - Tomm, Mr Tiredsmashbros, holy shit where do I even start with you. First of all, I would probably not be thanking half the people in this piece if not for you, I know how scary setting up a server was for you but I will forever be so thankful that you did. Finally getting the chance to chat with not only you, but so many amazing people in the SMG4 fandom has been an absolute joy and I am forever thankful for you for creating such an open and accepting space, you and Radiant are seriously so awesome for all the work you’ve put into that place. It’s from your server that i’ve learnt how wonderful and generous you are as a person, I really cannot think of anyone kinder than you Tomm, the way you always have an essay planned for every piece of fanart you get, from just your overall positive attitude, I am so glad I’ve finally gotten the chance to meet you after just being a fan of your work for so long. Your work has been such an inspiration to me and you’ve always been someone I wanted to chat with and the fact that I am now is!!! Crazy!!! I can’t believe you were scared of me at one point lol. Anyway thank you Tomm for being such a fantastic friend overall, I need to know TSB’s lore right now, can you whisper it to me I promise I’ll keep it a secret, regardless stay awesome dude, you deserve nothing but joy and happiness forever and always. Qwah Tuh (also Burgerfruit beloved, they should get weirder /j) <3

@doodledev1l - Doodle!!!!! Okay I know this sounds weird but genuinely finding another British SMG4 fan has been so refreshing, not only that but you’re super fun to talk to and be around so it’s even better! Getting the chance to hang out and chat with you is always so fun, I love getting to hear what you’re working on for uni and I always hope that it goes well for you, I know how stressful it can be lol. Regardless, I know you’ll do amazing because I’ve seen how dedicated and talented you are when it comes to your work, again I hope the rest of uni goes well for you because you deserve it, we gotta end your bad luck streak somehow lol. Thank you for being such an amazing person to chat and hang out with, keep up the amazing work dude, I’ll get you a tescos meal deal one day I promise. <3

PHEW, THAT’S EVERYONE, again thank you all so much for sticking by my side for a year! Doesn’t matter what time you showed up, I will always be thankful to know all of you, keep being awesome I love you all. I die now

Mango <3

[joelscruff]

one of your girls (frankie morales x triple frontier boys) 18+

a/n it's @swiftiscruff friendship exchange time!!! i'm so beyond excited to share this piece i've been working on, dedicated to my incredible friend han @swiftispunk 🌙 we brainstormed the idea for this fic months ago and it's finally somehow become something tangible - but han, if i've learned anything from writing this fic, it's how much i depend on you when it comes to so many aspects of my writing. whether it be workshopping ideas, input on characterization & dialogue, sharing snippets, etc, you are always there to lend a hand, listen, and advise. not having that this time around (because this fic has been a secret ofc!) just further proved to me what an incredibly patient, giving, caring, kind, & beautiful friend you are. i love you so much & i'm so grateful you slid in my dms one whole year ago today 💕 summary: unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk 🙌) rating: 18+ explicit warnings: circle jerk (frankie/benny/santiago/will), sub!frankie, bukkake, facials, cumplay, cum swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), praise kink galore, pet names (good boy, baby boy), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cock worship, use of restraints, sexy photographs, sharing, mentions of frankie x all the boys individually (this includes tom but he's not involved in the circle jerk - sorry tom), brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf but it's not really the main focus...for now anyway, all of this takes place before the events of triple frontier word count: 12.2k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💙

You've been moving boxes for what feels like forever, arms aching and the sun beating hot against the back of your neck as you swipe sweat from your brow and head back into the aging, disintegrating storage unit. When Frankie had first told you about it you'd been adamant that he move his old things - locked away for almost ten years now - out of the unit and into the new house. "We don't need to be paying for storage when we have a garage", you'd said confidently, "we have a house now, Frankie. What's yours is mine."

If only you'd believed him when he'd told you it wouldn't be that easy.

"I told y-" he begins for the fourth time as you lean down to grab another box, but you snap up immediately with a finger to your lips. "Why don't I just do the rest from here?" He offers fruitlessly, "You take a break, relax in the truck for a little while."

You're already shaking your head before he's finished talking, resuming your retrieval of the large box at your feet, "No, Frankie. We do this together."

You don't have to look at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. All the same, you hear him clamoring after you with another box as he follows you from the unit and back to the truck. The sun hangs high overhead and you squint uncomfortably against it, piling the box alongside the others in the truck bed. Frankie does the same.

"I mean, what's even in all of these?" you ask exasperatedly, shoving one of the many boxes with your hand and leaning backwards against the truck, "How did you accumulate this much shit in the military? I thought minimalism was all the rage over there."

"I told you, it's not just mine," he reaches forward to brush some sweaty tendrils of hair out of your eyes, "It's the whole team's shit. Well, mostly Ben and Pope's, the others were uh-" he winches, "a little more organized, I guess."

"You guess?" you push up on your hands and seat yourself precariously on the edge of the truck bed, catching your breath. Frankie watches as you tear open the nearest box, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh when he sees your eyes widen at what's inside.

"Paperwork?" you breathe, mouth agape, "Paperwork? That's what in all these? Fucking forms?"

"Something they don't tell you when you first join," he shrugs, "But no, that's not all that's in these. There's souvenirs, journals, photos, mission plans-" he cuts himself off and stops speaking altogether, lips clamping shut. Your brow furrows as you watch him assess the open box beside you, then the others strewn haphazardly here and there inside the truck bed, as if he's only just realized something he hadn't considered before.

"What?"

He seems to shake himself from whatever stopped him, eyes still settled on the open box as he murmurs, "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You raise an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Just, uh... don't."

"Well that's not ominous in the slightest."

He laughs but something about it seems off, almost forced as he reaches forward with both hands to help you down from the truck. You follow his lead, peering up at him curiously and hoping maybe he'll elaborate, explain, but instead he turns on the spot and heads back toward the storage unit, pulling you along in tow.

You decide not to press him about it for the time being. Right now, all you can think about is finishing hauling these ridiculous boxes and devouring an iced coffee on the way home.

A week passes before you even think about the boxes again.

By that time they've been taking up residence in the garage, haphazardly placed along the concrete in unorganized disarray, exactly where you'd both left them the day you unloaded the unit. You'd been too exhausted to start unpacking and had instead collapsed on the couch, laying there with aching limbs as Frankie discarded your empty iced coffee and poured you a tall glass of water.

"Your job is done now, querida," he'd murmured softly, stroking your cheek, "I'll do the rest."

Except he hadn't. He'd pulled your feet into his lap and settled comfortably beside you on the couch, just for a moment - and then it was lights out for the both of you, boxes be damned.

Now you find yourself the following Saturday perched precariously atop your counter, fingers smeared a soft fern green as you paint the walls of your new kitchen. You only moved into this house a month ago - your first real house together; shared, owned, all that jazz. Most of that time has already been entirely dedicated to making it your own space; unpacking, decorating, furnishing, rearranging - you've been more than busy with curating this new step in both your lives.

Which is why it's not surprising that you forget about the storage unit boxes and their scatteredness in the garage, too distracted by your current ongoing tasks. You hum along to the radio as you carefully attend to the smallest crevices and spaces between the cupboards, above the stove, under the window sill. You need it to be perfect, have gone far too long living in a less than adequate apartment without much creative freedom for this house to suffer the same fate.

Of course, just as you acknowledge the desire for perfection, your hand slips. A splash of green suddenly paints the pure white window sill and your heart sinks.

"Frankie!" you call out with a groan, reaching forward to wipe the mess away and only making it worse, "Where's the white paint?"

"Should be in the garage, I think," you hear him call back from the living room, busy with his own task of painting the walls a deep maroon, "Need me to get it for you?"

"No, I got it," you slide off the counter, careful to avoid the can of green paint at your feet as you make your way to the garage. It's only when you pass the threshold off the laundry room that you finally remember the forgotten boxes, faced with them for the first time since you dropped them off.

"Dammit, Francisco," you mutter, "You said you'd take care of it."

You can't really blame him though. It really is an undertaking; you'd known that from the moment he told you about the unit to begin with. He'd wanted to keep them there, would rather continue paying the monthly fee than deal with the enormous amount of unpacking he'd have to do, but you'd pushed. Now, as you grimace at the pile of heavy boxes, you wonder if maybe he'd been right.

For now, you turn your attention to the task at hand - finding white paint. You scan the storage shelves along the walls and spot the can you're looking for on a high shelf, out of reach.

Maybe those boxes can serve a purpose today.

You shove one toward the shelf and heave another one on top, making quick work of it despite the effort. Climbing onto your makeshift stepladder, you reach for the white paint and successfully pull it to your chest, but the added weight causes your feet to dig into the box below, exposing its contents as you carefully pull yourself back down. Your eyes can't help but dart to the crushed opening, spotting what looks like a photo album peeking through.

Setting the paint down, you lower yourself onto the concrete and cross your legs, biting your lip and reaching inside the box to grab the album. It's navy blue, relatively small, lightweight. A little skim couldn't hurt.

As soon as you open the photo album you can't help but smile, met immediately with a photo of Frankie and Santiago with their arms around each other - fifteen years younger. Their eyes are alight with excitement, Frankie's cap askew and Santi's expression caught in a permanent laugh. Before, you think to yourself, this was before shit got real. You flip the page and smile wider when you see a photo of Benny and Will, caught in what must be a playful brawl with Benny's hand grabbing at Will's leg as he tries to get away. Will is grinning from ear to ear, a genuine smile you've only seen a handful of times. Yep, definitely before.

You flip through the rest of the photos with a heaviness in your heart you can't describe. You've known these boys for a handful of years, have only heard fragments of the shit they've been through together, but you know it wasn't easy, know it affected them in ways you'll never even begin to understand. Being able to see them before all that, before they became hardened and molded by pain and trauma, you can't deny the emotions that bubble in your throat.

The last page contains a group photo; Frankie is in the center, surrounded by his friends on all sides, Will and Benny turned towards him with a fond smile and a grin, Santiago with an arm around him again and his head tilted to brush against Frankie's cap, and Tom on the edge - looking a little out of place, you must admit. But then, you suppose, things haven't really changed.

You're about to close the album and return to your painting when you notice a little pocket built into the backing, hidden out of sight with a hint of white poking through. Not wanting to miss out on another good photo, you slip your finger inside and happily tug out what looks to be a polaroid, different than the others. Curiously, you flip it over.

And immediately drop it to the floor.

Suddenly you can hear Frankie's words from last week, thrumming in your mind on repeat: "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You hadn't understood. But now you think you do.

With slightly shaky fingers you reach down and pick up the polaroid, taking a breath before slowly flipping it over again. Lips parted, eyes wide, heart pounding, you peer down at the little photograph and try to understand what you're seeing.

A much younger Frankie - naked, save for the cap on his head and the pants around his ankles. On his knees, peering up at the camera with hooded eyes and a fucked-out expression you've become more than familiar with at this point in your relationship. But that's not what made you drop the photo, no.

His face is covered in cum. You know that's what it is, know there's nothing else it could possibly be. Thick trails of it paint his face like abstract art, dripping down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin. It's all over him, smeared along his neck and chest bloomed red with heat and arousal. His cap is askew, cheeks flushed, and - most notable of all - he's smiling. Looking up at the camera, drenched in cum, smiling.

Frankie is bisexual; you've known this since your first date, remember how shy he'd been as he'd softly murmured, "Just so you know, I like girls and guys." It hadn't bothered you at all to know that he'd been with men in the past - in fact, you'd kind of liked that about him.

So this - this doesn't bother you. You're not bothered. You're... you don't know what you are, can't seem to pinpoint exactly how you're feeling right now as peer down at the polaroid that you were probably never supposed to find. You're not bothered, you're just... surprised. And confused. What is this doing here? Why is it hidden in an album of Frankie and his friends?

....Oh.

"Find it?" you suddenly hear Frankie call from the living room, and your stomach drops. You hastily stand and slip the polaroid into your back pocket, then close the album and toss it back into the box.

"Y-yeah," you call back, "I got it!"

You try not to mention it. Try, being the operative word.

But it's all you can think about. It's all you see when you reunite with Frankie in the kitchen later that afternoon, staring at the flecks of maroon paint scattered across his face and being unable to not see smears of splattered white. It's all you see that evening as you dig into your leftover Chinese food, eyes constantly flickering across the table to watch Frankie bite and chew, lips soft and wet and definitely not leaking cum at the corners.

It's all you see that night when you settle in bed and watch as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, water dripping down his neck and chest not unlike the thick drops of release in the photo. You watch with hooded eyes, lips parted, heart thrumming, as he tugs the towel off and walks to the dresser with his pert ass on full display. You can't help but wonder if there'd been cum there too, leaking and dripping, hidden away because of the angle of the photo.

"I can feel you staring at me," he suddenly says with a chuckle, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." He says it in jest but you feel your face bloom with heat, immediately averting your eyes and burying yourself beneath the sheets.

"I was not," you lie, "Get over yourself."

He laughs again and you hear him shut the dresser, probably tugging on a pair of briefs, "You've been looking at me weird all day, it's kind of freaking me out."

You want to point out that "all day" is an exaggeration, but then you'd have to admit that you have been looking at him strangely for at least a portion of it, and you really don't want to do that. Instead, you reach over and turn off the lamp on your bedside table, then nuzzle into your pillow and close your eyes, ignoring him.

"Is something wrong, baby?" you hear him ask, humor slowly dissipating from his voice, "You need to talk about anything?"

"No," you lie, your own voice betraying you immediately, "I'm fine."

You feel the bed dip beside you, feel the warmth of his palm come down to gently caress your upper arm, "You sure? Did I do something to upset you?" You can practically hear him wince as soon as he says the words, "I know, I should already know if I did. But today's been busy and-"

"You didn't do anything, Frankie," you tell him softly, "I promise."

"Then what is it?" you can hear the concern, the gentle worry as he strokes your arm up and down, "Talk to me." He sounds so kind, so tender, as always. It's so damn hard to keep anything from him. You sigh.

"I feel..." you grimace, eyes still closed, "I just feel..."

He waits for you to continue, in the meantime settling into bed beside you and tugging the sheets up over himself. You feel his warmth against your body and it immediately fills you with a sense of calm, comfort. Your heart slows a bit, breaths coming a little easier as he brings his arm down to wrap around you and pull you in close.

"How do you feel, querida?" he murmurs, "Tell me."

"Guilty," you finally breathe, and you're surprised to feel tears pricking in your eyes, "I feel guilty."

You can hear the confusion in his voice, "For what?"

"I...I saw something I shouldn't have," you admit quietly, "In one of your boxes. Something really private that you probably never ever wanted me to see and I'm so sorry." You feel his arm freeze at your side and you take a shaky breath, "And now I can't stop thinking about it even though it's absolutely none of my damn business. And I wanna ask you about it but I really have no right to, not when I wasn't even supposed to know about it in the first place, and-"

"Mierda," he groans - shit.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie" you whisper pathetically, still facing away from him, "It's all my fault and if you need me to just forget about it, I will. I promise that I will."

"Fuck," he murmurs, "No no, baby, it's not your fault, it's mine. I should have unpacked all of it myself. I knew there was shit in there you might not wanna see."

"Y-you're not mad at me?"

He buries his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your neck, "Of course I'm not mad at you - could never be mad at you for that. What's mine is yours, remember?"

You pull away to turn and face him, expression pensive. He's looking at you with earnest eyes, no anger or betrayal to be seen, and it almost makes it worse. Because does he know? Does he realize what exactly it is that you found?

"You have um..." you bite your lip, "You have pictures, in a photo album."

He stares at you, brow furrowing. "What?"

Fuck.

"There was... there was a photo album in one of the boxes. And I figured I'd just flip through it, just to have a look at you when you were younger, you know? Thought it'd be nice, that there might be something we could frame for the house."

He's looking at you like you're speaking another language, confusion lining his features, "....So?"

"So... so I found..." you wince, the image flashing behind your lids again as you try to figure out how to word it, "I found a picture that I don't think you would have wanted me to see."

He's still staring at you, the cogs turning in his head but seemingly no closer to an answer. You picture him flipping through an invisible rolodex, trying to pinpoint exactly what picture you could be talking about. You're starting to realize that maybe when he'd told you to stop looking in the boxes he'd been talking about something else.

"Honestly baby, I thought you meant you looked at some of my paperwork," he admits. Bingo. "Saw some stuff we did for a mission or something. There's plans in those boxes, strategy stuff, and you know how intense some of those were, some of the..." he takes a beat, biting his lip, "some of the things we had to do."

You shake your head quickly, "It wasn't anything like that. It wasn't...it wasn't something serious, really. It was..." you take a deep breath, still unable to say the words. Instead, you reach over into your nightstand and grab the polaroid, sitting up in bed and waiting for him to join you.

"What is it?" he asks, gentle and kind as he sits up beside you, "You can tell me, baby. We can talk about it."

Your heart races but you figure there's no going back from it now, and you're not sure you'd want to keep it from him anyway. Up until this point you and Frankie have always made communication an important part of your relationship. It's been necessary considering what he's been through, what he still deals with, and it's something that you're proud of. You're just gonna have to grin and bear it.

With a sigh, you shakily hand him the polaroid.

He flips it.

And drops it.

"Oh," he gasps, hand coming up to cover his mouth, "Oh, fuck."

"It's not- I'm not-" you stutter, fumbling over your words, "It's not a big deal, really. Like, it's whatever. I know you're bi, I know you've probably sucked your fair share of dicks-"

"Oh god," Frankie moans, his hands coming up to cover his eyes, "Oh my god."

"Hey, hey, no," you reach up and try to pull his hands away from his face, desperation in your voice, "Do not hide from me, you did nothing wrong. You hear me? There's nothing wrong with this." He groans again, shaking his head, but you just keep on talking, "I'm not mad about it or anything, it'd be pretty fucked up for me to mad about it actually. I'm just- hey," you continue to pry at his fingers, "Francisco, look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, he finally removes his hands from his eyes to peer at you. You can see the embarrassment there, the humiliation - and not the good kind, not the kind he likes.

"Hey," you whisper, "You don't have to talk about this. We can pretend I never even saw it if that's what you want," you bring his hands down and hold them tightly, squeeze them in your own, "I just... I just wanted you to know that I saw it. And that I was just a little curious about why it was in an album from your military days. That's it. That's all."

His eyes fall back to the flipped polaroid on the bed, the back of it facing the both of you. You watch as he slowly reaches forward to pick it up again with his index and middle finger, pulls it upwards and turns it around to see it again.

Out of respect for him, you don't look at it. You just watch his face, his expression. He looks.... thoughtful.

"Talk to me," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please."

He looks from the polaroid to you, then back to the polaroid. After taking a steadying breath, he places it back down onto the bed between the two of you, face up. Your eyes spot his cum-covered face again, frozen forever in time, and you quickly avert your gaze.

He notices, and gives you a small half smile. You return it tenfold.

"Well, it.." he starts, taking another breath, "It was just something that.. we just started-" he cuts himself off, smile turning to a frown as he formulates his words. "It started..."

"Hey," you breathe, reaching down to squeeze his hands again, "Take your time."

It started as a way to blow off steam - that's it. Simple, easy.

They'd all gotten to know one another during training, spent time shooting the shit and building friendships with each other. There had been such a sense of belonging, of fortified brotherhood, a pull toward one another that none of them could deny. So it was unsurprising when their teamwork and comradery resulted in their placement into a special task force, just the five of them against the world - or, rather, the enemy.

But it was stressful. Going from basic military training to special ops added a new layer of pressure and competence that they hadn't experienced before, and it was no walk in the park. Things got harder, more pressing, more important. And all they had, like always, was each other.

So it made sense one night, for Frankie anyway, to offer Santiago a blowjob.

He'd heard the stiff grunts from the bed beside him, the dry - too dry - slap of skin as Santi worked at himself beneath the thin sheet of his bunk. It wasn't abnormal for Frankie to overhear one of his buddies masturbating; in fact it would have been abnormal to not hear it. He'd gotten used to the different sounds they'd each make as they gripped their cocks, hidden away in the dark, and pumped themselves to completion. He had memorized the sounds of their breathing, the grunts and the whines, the soft moans of their orgasms.

But it was never something that was discussed. It was an unspoken rule, almost: what happens in the bunks stays in the bunks. So Frankie had never even considered crossing that line, especially because he was pretty sure he was the only one in the group who liked dudes - something everyone was only vaguely aware of.

There was something about the desperation in Santi's movements that night, in the sweat on his brow and the pained expression on his face. He'd gotten reprimanded earlier that day for failing a training mission, been yelled at by two commanding officers while the rest of the boys looked on with regret in their hearts. If one of them failed, they all felt as if they'd failed too. Santi hadn't spoken to anyone for the rest of the day, had eaten in silence and then retired to his bunk much too early. And now, hours later here he was, hand around his cock, trying to forget.

And Frankie wanted to help.

"Pope," he'd whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Santiago to hear. Santi had turned his head slightly, eyebrows raising when he realized he'd been caught in the act. He'd been about to say something, defend himself maybe, but Frankie had shook his head and continued, "Need some help?"

A look of confusion. "Help?"

Frankie's eyes had wandered to the shape of Santi's lower half beneath the sheet, then back up to meet his gaze.

"Yeah," he'd murmured earnestly, "Help."

Santi had stared at him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, chest heaving. His hand was frozen under the sheet, gripping firmly to his hard cock as he'd considered Frankie's offer. Someone else might have hurled hurtful words, another might have ignored him completely.

But Santi took a deep breath and leaned back, closed his eyes and breathed, "Go ahead."

Frankie had been under the sheet in minutes.

Tucked away, hidden in case any of the other guys woke up, Frankie sucked slowly on his friend's cock. He wasn't sure how much Santi wanted to see of him, figured maybe he'd have his eyes closed as he pictured someone else, maybe that girl he liked from back home, but it didn't matter to Frankie - what mattered most was helping his friend forget about the shitty day he'd had. He treated Santi's cock like something to be worshipped, swallowing and licking around the big shape of him, warm and thick in his mouth. And when Santi came, it was only moments after Frankie had started.

His hands came down to grip Frankie's curls, tugging and pulling as he'd groaned and spilled down his friend's throat. And Frankie had swallowed every drop.

"Francisco," Santi had murmured when Frankie pulled off his cock with a pop, a drop of cum leaking from the corner of his mouth as he peered up at Santi from beneath the sheet, "You've been holding out on me."

With a smile, Frankie had licked the cum away and placed a gentle, reverent kiss to the wet head of Santi's cock. Santi had watched with hooded eyes, let Frankie kiss him there a few more times, let him trail his nose along his thick shaft and inhale deeply at the base. Hands still carding through his hair, Santi had let him mouth at his cock for a few more minutes before softly telling him he should get back in his bunk.

"Just trying to savor it," Frankie had whispered, voice a little sad, a little broken.

"You'll do it again," Santi had replied, reveling in the way Frankie's eyes widened, a smile lighting up his face.

And he did do it again - the following night. He'd been a little hesitant, unsure if Santiago had really meant what he said. But after the others had fallen asleep and Frankie was still just lying there, waiting, he'd heard a soft pssst sound. He'd looked over to see Santi sitting up in bed with a smirk on his face and one hand already beneath the sheet, tugging at his dick.

He stuffed his mouth with Santi's cock every night that week. It was almost feral the way he drank him down, eyes rolling as his lips kissed Santi's pubic hair and his tongue laved the shaft of his cock up and down, up and down. Drool cascaded from his lips all over his friend's belly, and he whined softly over and over whenever his curls were tugged, his temples stroked. Santi would talk to him softly, murmur the quietest little praises that made Frankie insane with need. That's it, there you go. You take what you need, Francisco. And then he'd come down his throat, fill his stomach with it, and whisper, "Good boy."

It was filthy, but it wasn't wrong. Not one part of it felt wrong. And Santiago never once made him feel like it was a shameful secret they were keeping, like the others finding out would be the end of the world. And it's good that he'd maintained that stance, because soon enough, Benny was in on it too. They should have seen it coming, considering his bunk was directly above Santi's.

"Can you give me one, maybe?" he'd asked Frankie awkwardly one night, voice quiet and slightly nervous as he leaned over the bars of the bunk bed, "I've been... I've been listening to it every night and it's driving me fuckin' crazy that I don't know what it feels like."

"Are you saying you've never had a blowjob, Ben?"

Benny had rolled his eyes, "Of course I've had a fuckin' blowjob, idiot. I've just never had a... a you know..." he'd shrugged, "A Frankie blowjob."

"It's good," Santi had said nonchalantly, tugging off his shirt and climbing into his bunk, "He's fucking incredible, actually."

Frankie had preened at the praise, cheeks reddening. An hour later he'd climbed up into Benny's bunk and deepthroated his cock for a solid fifteen minutes. Benny was breathless, chest blooming with heat as he watched Frankie suck and drool, gagging every so often but immediately resuming his sloppy ministrations as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"Look at that," Benny had marveled softly, "Look at that."

"I told you," they'd both heard Santi whisper from below, "He's a fucking godsend."

"I'm gonna cum down your fuckin' throat, Frankie," Benny had groaned, and no sooner were the words out that he was following through, spurting slow and steady into Frankie's mouth. He gripped the back of his head, watched Frankie swallow, and then whispered, "Good boy". Oh, he really had been listening.

Sated and warm with wet and sticky briefs, Frankie had climbed back into bed with a new appreciation for Benny.

As if two wasn't enough, Will got involved shortly after that. Of course Benny had unsurprisingly spilled the beans to his brother, which lead to Frankie climbing atop his own bunk one night to join Will, who'd been a bit unsure. It was as if he thought a prank was being pulled on him, like it was all bullshit, but he didn't say no.

"Been wonderin' what you three were gettin' up to," he'd muttered, watching Frankie a bit dubiously, brow furrowed, arms crossed, "Ben says you're, uh... good."

"I'm good," Frankie had promised softly, bringing his hands down to tug at Will's boxers, "Promise."

Will had watched as Frankie brought his already hardening cock out of his underwear, kissed the tip gently and then brought it into his mouth. "Oh fuck," he'd heard Will gasp out, immediately reaching up to cup the back of Frankie's head. And then there were three.

But three stayed three. Tom did find out about it, considering every single night somebody seemed to be getting their dick sucked. Any discreetness had gone out the window, especially when two of them would jack themselves off to the sounds of Frankie slurping and sucking, groans and the heavy slap of skin echoing throughout the large room. But despite the knowledge of what his friends were doing, the leader of the group was seemingly disinterested in having a go with Frankie.

There was one disastrous evening wherein the others managed to convince Tom to give it a shot. But Frankie bobbed on his cock for a solid five minutes before realizing he just wasn't getting him hard, and Tom had pushed him away and turned in bed with a low sigh.

"It's just not for me, Fish," he'd muttered, "Pretend it never happened."

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Santi had murmured ten minutes later as he watched Frankie suckle on the leaking tip of his cock, "Huh, Francisco? Doesn't know you've got the mouth of an angel, huh?"

Frankie had continued to suck, eyes closed, breathing deeply in and out as Santi stroked his hair.

Things were easier for a while after that. The training was strenuous, oftentimes near impossible, but there was always pleasure at the end of it, always something to look forward to. Every night Frankie would take up residence in someone's bunk, usually after a quick game of rock paper scissors or a straw draw. Each of his friends were different in their own way, and Frankie took a lot of joy in being able to have those moments with them, be what they needed. It felt like he was floating, dreaming; he'd never realized how badly he wanted to be submissive like this until it actually happened. Being their shared prize, their plaything, it was fucking incredible.

Sometimes he'd have all three in one night. He'd deepthroat Benny's cock and swallow him down, then stagger to Will's bunk and do the same. With his own erection aching in his underwear he'd finally crawl in with Santi and allow his closest friend to pull down his briefs and notch the head of his cock into his ass. Santi was the only one who fucked him, the only one who held him close afterwards and sometimes fell asleep with him.

"You my good boy, Francisco?" he'd murmur in Frankie's ear as he fucked him slow and deep, fingers digging into his hips beneath the sheets, "You like feelin' that cock in your ass?"

And god, did he ever.

The first real mission was brutal.

It was tame compared to the things they'd eventually do, but for what it was, they were stressed out of their minds. They spent weeks planning, training, preparing. They'd find themselves so tired at the end of the day that their nighttime habits became a thing of the past, if not something that only happened once in a blue moon. And in its own way the lack of it had begun to affect everything else, their comradery, their abilities, their drive. The day before the mission was set to begin, Benny stood up at dinner and proclaimed, "We've gotta get our shit together."

"Sit down, our shit is together," Tom grumbled, "We're gonna be fine."

"We are not gonna be fine," Benny argued, expression genuinely fearful, "We're gonna fail the whole fuckin' thing and then we're out on our asses."

"There's truth to that, you know there is," Will pointed out as he pulled Benny back down, "There's somethin' missing here. We're not on our A game."

"What, 'cause Morales isn't getting sucked and fucked?"

Frankie's head had gone up, ears tinging pink as he looked over at Tom along with everybody else. There had been a beat of silence, and then-

"Nobody said that," Santi had stated calmly, "And don't be a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. It's fine what you all get up to in your own time, whatever. But it's not the be-all and end-all of our fucking team," he'd shrugged and looked at Santi with a frown, "I mean, come on, Pope. We're prepared, with or without the extracurriculars."

"We are," Santiago had agreed with a nod, turning to Benny, "It's gonna be fine, man. The nerves are just kicking in now but that's normal. We've trained for this, we're ready."

But Frankie could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful.

That night, despite the tiredness of the last day of training and the anxiety of what was to come - Frankie found a solution. He told Santi first, whispered it to him in his bunk and grinned at the expression on his friend's face, awestruck and aroused all at once.

"You're sure?" Santi asked him quietly.

"I'm sure. I think it'll help us de-stress."

Santi had leaned forward and tilted Frankie's cap up, pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and murmured, "Me sigues sorprendiendo, Francisco." You continue to surprise me.

A moment later he was climbing the ladder of Santi's bunk, coming face to face with Benny. "You wanna do something kinky?"

The younger man's eyebrow raised, "Kinkier than usual?"

"A blowjob is not kinky, Ben."

"Getting one from a guy is."

Frankie rolled his eyes and went to pull himself back down the ladder but Benny stopped him, reaching out to touch his wrist.

"What'd you have in mind?"

And that's how he'd ended up on his knees.

Will and Benny stood on either side of Santiago, all three men looking down at their submissive friend with unbridled arousal in their expressions, dark and anticipatory. There was silence at first, not necessarily awkward but full of a definite tension that was more than palpable.

Until-

"Tie him up," Santi murmured to Benny. Frankie's eyes went hooded almost immediately, lips parting as he peered up at his friends and felt his heart pound at the thought of what Santi was asking.

"How so?"

"His hands," Santi clarified, "There's some string in the first aid kit, tie his hands behind his back so he can't touch himself."

Benny followed his orders without question, heading toward the bathroom to grab the kit while Will gave Santiago a confused look. "Why can't he touch himself?"

Santi smiled, tilting his head a bit and peering down at Frankie's already debauched form. He walked forward and kneeled down in front of him, levelling with him as he reached for his waistband.

"'Cause he likes it," Santi murmured, "Haven't you noticed something about Frankie in all the months we've been doing this?" As he spoke he pulled down Frankie's pants to his knees, exposing his bare thighs to the room. He was already hard, the long shape of his cock protruding from his black briefs. "He doesn't touch himself," he continued softly, stroking his thumb gently against the V of Frankie's hips, "He always comes in his pants when he sucks our dicks."

Hearing the words aloud, stated so matter-of-factly, Frankie realized in that moment how fucking well Santiago had come to know him. Not once had Frankie voiced this, told him anything about what he really liked, what he craved. And yet here he was, having his desires told directly to him, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"And when he gets fucked," Santi continued, fingers trailing downward to ever so gently cup Frankie's cock, "He only lets me touch it. Ain't that right, Francisco?"

Frankie nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat.

"Why?" Will asked again - always wanting clarification, an explanation.

"'Cause it feels good, doesn't it, Frankie?" Santi cooed, releasing Frankie's bulge and bringing his hand up to place a finger under his chin, "Feels so good to come untouched, huh? Feels good to let go when you've got a dick in your mouth, to fall asleep with your underwear all wet and your cock all sticky?"

Frankie nodded again, cheeks blooming pink. He felt someone behind him pick up his hands, start tying them together - Benny.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen his cock," Benny admitted, voice already rough with anticipation, "I mean... I guess I had other things on my mind."

"He's got a fucking great cock," Santi murmured, "Why don't you show 'em, Francisco? Let 'em see what you've been hiding under here, huh?" His finger dug into the band of Frankie's briefs, and all Frankie could do was nod again, unable to speak with the way his thoughts had begun to melt away, brain going fuzzy.

Benny finished tying his hands and walked in front of him again to stand alongside Santi, eyebrows going up when he watched Frankie's cock be freed from the confines of his underwear. It stood at attention immediately, long and hard, pink and flushed at the tip. It smacked wetly against his belly, balls hanging heavy and full as Santi pulled his briefs down entirely.

"Now look at that pretty cock," Santi breathed, almost just for Frankie alone, "Look how it's dripping."

And it was dripping, already pulsing and bobbing against his belly button with every rise and fall of his chest. The three men watched in silence for a moment as Frankie took deep breaths, his cock twitching and stuttering in front of them without being touched, simply exposed to the cool air of the room and their interested gazes.

"I kinda wanna...." Benny started to say, but trailed off, blushing a bit as he took a step away from his brother.

"I'll stay between you," Santi offered quickly, "Pull 'em out, it's fine."

There was no more hesitation after that. Frankie watched under his lashes as his three friends reached into their pajama pants and pulled out their cocks. Will was still mostly soft, though you could tell he was starting to harden with the sudden gravity of the situation. Benny was already stiff and leaking as he fisted his own, and Santiago's hung heavy and thick between his legs as he carefully circled the head with his thumb.

"We're gonna come all over your face, Frank," Benny told him quietly as he jerked his cock slowly up and down, "You know that, right? You're sure you're cool with that?"

It was like he was underwater, still unable to speak; he hadn't said one word since he'd gotten on his knees. It was as if the submissive part of him had taken over completely, mind going blank.

"Say yes or no, Fish," Will said, voice strained as he squeezed himself gently, "Wanna hear it."

"Yes," Frankie had finally managed to whimper, knees trembling against the cold floor, "Yes, please."

Santi grinned, "Well boys, I think we got our answer," He tilted his head again to eye Frankie from where he stood, "Let's get a little closer, shall we? I think he wants us up close and personal."

Within a few seconds Frankie was suddenly face to face with three cocks - it was like fucking Christmas morning. His mouth popped open and drool immediately began to collect in the corners of his mouth, eyes trailing back and forth to look at absolutely everything he could. He stared at the weeping tips, the fat heads, the thick shafts where his friends pumped and fisted. Without any thoughts in his brain he opened his mouth and laid his tongue flat against his lower lip, staring at Benny's cock - arguably the biggest - with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, you wanna suck on it, don't you?" Benny asked, a smile in his voice, "You go ahead, Fish. Suck that cock."

He did not need telling twice. His lips wrapped around the pink mushroom head of Benny's cock and his eyes rolled back as he began to suck, tongue lapping at the tip and devouring everything it had to offer. God he loved having his mouth full, loved hearing Benny's groans as he pushed his head forward and enveloped more and more of the cock in front of him, began to slide his lips up and down the shaft and cover it in his saliva.

"So pretty with a cock in your throat, Francisco," Santi told him, voice full of praise as he watched Frankie sink down even further on Benny's cock, 'til his nose was buried in his pubic hair. "Tell him how pretty he is, Benny. He wants to hear it."

Frankie anticipated some hesitance, maybe even a sarcastic comment, but Benny did no such thing. Instead, Benny's hand came up to cup the back of Frankie's head, holding him still on his cock as he breathed, "You're so pretty, Frankie."

A high keen of a whine made it's way from Frankie's throat, vibrated around the cock in his mouth. Benny trembled a bit, tangling his fingers in his hair and helping him bob a few more times before pulling him off completely. Frankie gasped for breath, tears in his eyes as he stared up at his friends.

"Your turn," Santi murmured quietly to Will, "Stuff him full."

"He fuckin' loves being stuffed," Will replied with a low chuckle, yanking Frankie forward by his hair and shoving his now fully hard cock into his mouth. It was the kind of rough Frankie was already well acquainted with when it came to Will, and he welcomed it with gratitude. He closed his eyes and allowed Will's cock to sink into his mouth like Benny's had, then swallowed around it, tightening the walls of his throat and gagging around the large intrusion.

"Yeah, choke on it, baby," Will muttered, gripping both sides of Frankie's head with a groan, "Baby boy."

Baby boy. That was a new one, especially from Will, but Frankie certainly wasn't complaining. He swallowed around him again, feeling his own cock bob against his stomach as he continued to worship Will's dick. There was only so much of the sensation that Will could take, and before long he too was pulling out of Frankie's mouth and resuming his slow strokes, breathing heavily.

"M'your baby boy," Frankie murmured to the three of them, Will's words still echoing in his mind. His voice was already completely shot, rough and scratchy from the two large cocks that had invaded his throat.

"You are," Santiago cooed, leaning forward to gently tap the head of his own cock against Frankie's bottom lip, "You're our baby boy, Frankie. Our good, pretty, perfect boy, huh?"

Yes, Frankie wanted to whisper, it's all I am. It's all I wanna be. But his mouth was already being filled a third time, this time by Santi's cock - the thickest of the three. His vision blurred with tears as it stretched his lips, the masculine taste dripping on the back of his tongue and down his throat. He'd had Santi's cock in his mouth the most out of everyone's; had fallen asleep a few times suckling on the tip of it while Santi murmured praise, like a comfort, a constant.

He knew exactly what Santi liked, what he didn't, how to tease him, how to get him there. Immediately, Frankie curled his tongue around the wide head, dipped the tip of it into Santi's slit and carefully fucked it in and out while suctioning the rest. He kept his eyes open this time even though they burned with tears, allowing himself to meet Santiago's gaze just how he knew he liked it.

"Oh, good boy," Santi praised softly, thumbing Frankie's cheeks and letting the head of his cock sit just inside the wet heat of his mouth, "Suckin' on that cock like it's my thumb, huh? Just how you like it?"

Now that was something unbeknownst to Benny and Will. They knew Santi liked to fuck Frankie sometimes, but they didn't know much about the logistics, the positioning, the way it worked. More often than not, Frankie would suck on Santi's thumb when he was being fucked, liked the feeling of having both his holes full at the same time. It felt complete somehow, safe. God, what would it feel like now if Santi were to fuck him and let Benny or Will fuck his throat? What would it feel like to be truly filled up like that, the way he'd always imagined? His cock twitched against his belly again, still untouched, still pulsing, and he moaned around Santi's cock.

"I think our baby boy needs a little break," Santi murmured softly, "Shh, it's okay, Frankie, it's alright," he slowly pulled his cock from Frankie's lips and allowed him to catch his breath, chest heaving. He felt multiple hands petting his hair, stroking his cheeks, thumbing his temples. Someone brushed one of his nipples, pinched it ever so gently and then did the same to the other one.

"Sweet little things," Will murmured, and that answered that.

"He really is a fucking godsend, Pope," Benny breathed, disbelief and awe playing at the edge of his voice, "Softest mouth I've ever felt."

"His eyes are what get me," Santi replied, and Frankie felt him take his cap off and toss it to the side, then a pair of lips kiss his forehead, "He's got the prettiest brown eyes, look so beautiful when he's got that wet mouth all full."

The way they talked about him, like he wasn't even there, like he was just a toy, something to play with, an object - it was so much. It was too much. He leaned back on his haunches and whimpered, eyes fluttering open as he looked up at his friends, still standing in front of him with their now very wet cocks in their hands.

"Put them on my face," he begged, voice broken and haggard, "All of them, please."

"Fuck," Benny gasped out, and without hesitation he placed the entire length of his cock along Frankie's cheek and forehead, tapping it a few times and hissing, "There you go. There it is, baby boy."

"You go around the other side," Santi told Will, knowing he wouldn't want to touch Benny's cock, "Put yours upside down on his other cheek, I'll go middle."

Benny was still slapping Frankie's face gently with his cock, hissing and groaning out words of praise. Santi slapped his own down across the center of his face, along his nose and lips. His cock settled up against Benny's, and for the shortest of seconds Frankie noted that they rubbed them together without speaking, without looking at each other. Will joined them on the other side, his balls hanging low on Frankie's forehead and his tip jutting out near his chin. Three cocks, side by side, covering their friend's entire face.

"Slap him with them, he likes that," Benny said through gritted teeth, doing it again and again and reveling in the whimpers and whines Frankie was making below them, "Ohhh, he fuckin' loves that."

"I don't think I can last," Will spit, voice more strained than it had been before, "This is too much, I'm gonna blow my whole fuckin' load any minute now."

"No one's stopping you," Santi encouraged, "Doesn't matter when we come, what matters is we do it all over his face. Cover him with it."

"Oh, he's gonna be fuckin' drenched," Benny groaned, eyes closing as he stilled his slapping movements to hold back his own orgasm. His voice was wild now, desperate, "I wanna come in his mouth, I call dibs."

"You hear that, Frankie, baby?" Santi murmured with a sly smile, "Benny called dibs on filling your mouth."

Frankie wouldn't have responded even if he could, just let out another whimpering moan and dropped his jaw, lolled his tongue out so his friends could take turns tapping the heads of their cocks against it. He was covered in precum, felt it dribbling down his chin and forehead, collecting behind his teeth and dripping down the back of his throat.

"Let him suck," Will hissed, "Let him suck mine one more time." At his words, Benny and Santi moved out of the way as best they could, Santi tapping Frankie's eyelid with his cock while Benny smeared more precum into his forehead. They watched as Frankie carefully suckled Will's tip into his mouth, closed his lips around him and hummed.

"Put it in your throat, baby boy," Will told him firmly, "Swallow around it, there you go. Thaaat's a good boy."

Gurgling sounds were coming from Frankie's gag reflex but he didn't stop or pull away, kept doing exactly what he knew Will needed as he swallowed him down. It took barely any time at all for it to be too much for Will to handle, and before any of them knew it he was pulling out and pumping his cock furiously over Frankie's face. Benny and Santi stepped back - they all knew what was coming.

"Don't come in his mouth, I called dibs," Benny warned, and Frankie could have sworn he heard Santiago chuckle.

"Keep your eyes closed, Fish," Will muttered, directly in front of him now as the wet sounds of his fist slipping up and down his cock filled the room, "Gonna paint that pretty little face and those sweet little nipples."

Franke whimpered, keeping his eyes closed as he continued to listen to what was going on around him. He could hear Santi and Benny still jerking themselves a few steps away, but Will's grunts and groans were the most prominent, the most present. And only a few seconds later he felt the first splash of cum hit his face - his left cheek.

"There it is," Santi egged Will on, "There he goes."

Another rope of cum landed on his forehead, dripped down onto his eyebrow. Then another on his chin. He listened as Will let out one more groan, still pumping his cock as he aimed at Frankie's bare chest. He felt two more spurts trickle down both of his nipples, sensitive and hard, and that was it.

"Fuck," Will groaned, satisfaction plain as day in his voice, "Fuck, Frankie."

He opened his eyes and was met with Will's cock, tight in his fist. Without hesitation he leaned forward and brought the tip gently into his mouth, licking off the excess cum as Will brought his hand down to play with Frankie's curls. He sucked for a few seconds, placed a soft kiss to the tip - his favorite spot - and then looked up to meet Will's gaze, a dazed little smile playing on his lips.

"Give it one more little kiss, baby boy," Will murmured, "Just one more." Frankie did as he was told, eyelashes fluttering as he kissed the sticky tip once more, and then Will was backing up to let Santi and Benny back into their spots.

"You're a good boy, Fish," he murmured, tucking himself back into his pants. "Mind if I watch the rest?"

"Please stay," Frankie managed to breathe, and the movement of his face caused some of the cum in his eyebrow to trickle downwards, dipping into the crevice of his nose. Will smiled and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to observe.

"Won't be much longer now, Francisco," Santi told him softly, shuffling forward to carefully fill Frankie's mouth again with his dick. He watched with fascination as Frankie slowly bobbed on it, like muscle memory as he breathed evenly through his nose. "M'close. I think Benny's close too."

"You look so fuckin' good with all that cum on your face," Benny told him, voice almost pained, "Gonna look even better with more."

Surprisingly, Frankie pulled off Santi's dick without being told to do so and peered over at Benny with hunger in his eyes, "Can you... can I..." he cut himself off, going bright red as he looked back to Santi for reassurance.

"What is it, baby?" Santi asked softly, brow furrowing, "You good? You need to take a break?"

Frankie shook his head quickly, "N-no, I just...I..." he bit his lip and hoped his sudden idea wasn't about to be shot down, "Can you put them both in at the same time?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Fuck," Benny groaned, "Fuck, that's hot." There was no doubt in Frankie's mind now that Benny had quite liked having his dick so close to Santi's, so it made him grin when Benny moved forward to stand beside his friend and jut his cock out toward Frankie's mouth.

"Open up, Fish."

Dropping his jaw once again and staring wide eyed up at his teammates, cum still fresh and sticky all over his face, Frankie allowed Benny and Santi to slide both their cocks into his waiting mouth. The feeling was insane. The taste was insane. All masculine and heady and musky and wet, the smell of sweat and raw sex invading his nostrils as they both pushed their dicks further in alongside each other. Frankie felt two hands in his hair, one of Santi's and one of Benny's, holding him still.

"Oh fuck, I need a picture of this," Benny groaned, blinking furiously as he peered down at where he and Santi's dicks jutted out from Frankie's mouth. "Will, grab Pope's camera, I'm serious. I need to remember this."

As Will made his way to the bunks, Frankie continued to blink slowly and languidly, tongue almost lazily swirling along the fat heads of the two big cocks in his mouth. They were dripping everywhere, warm and sticky, layering the back of his tongue with all of their arousal. And he was so fucking overwhelmed.

"Two cocks," Santi breathed, thumbing a bit of Will's cum that had begun to dry on Frankie's cheek, "Two fat cocks for Frankie, huh?"

"Look at how his lips stretch," Benny added, pushing his cock in the tiniest bit further to watch how Frankie's mouth adjusted to the size, "S'like he was made for it."

"He was made for it," Santi agreed softly, pushing some hair out of Frankie's face and tucking it behind his ear, "Huh, Francisco? Were you made for this?"

Another slow blink and an even slower nod, careful not to dislodge the appendages in his mouth. Benny assessed the door Will had left through and then hesitated for a moment before turning to Santi and whispering, "You feel good, Pope," under his breath.

"So do you," Santi replied with a smile, "Y'got a nice dick."

Benny seemed a bit flustered, avoiding Santiago's gaze as he muttered, "Thanks."

Will rejoined them a few seconds later, Santiago's polaroid camera in hand. Frankie watched with pleasure as Will brought the camera over his head and faced it downwards, preparing the shot.

"Chipmunk cheeks," Will murmured fondly, snapping the picture with a smile, "This'll do great for the annual Christmas card, huh boys?" It was a joke of course; they all knew that what was happening right would more than likely never leave the base, but Santi and Benny laughed nonetheless, pushing their cocks just a little bit more into Frankie's mouth.

"He's full," Benny murmured, "All filled up."

"Not entirely," Santi chuckled, "But close enough."

Their teasing words, their smiles and their laughs, it was making Frankie crazy. His untouched cock was still bobbing on its own accord, twitching and dripping as they talked about him like he wasn't even there. He was going to come soon, he just knew it, and the thought alone made him whine around his friend's dicks, his eyes rolling back.

"Shh, it's okay, Francisco," Santi reassured him softly, "Just give us one more minute to enjoy this, okay? Will's gonna take a few more pictures. You just stay still and keep suckin' on those cocks."

"You got this, Fish," Benny murmured, "You can do it, you're a good boy."

I am, Frankie thought to himself as he closed his eyes and heard the snap of another photo, I am a good boy.

Will took two more pictures with the camera so they'd each have one, tugging the polaroids out as they developed and waving them in the air. This was better than any porno magazine they'd ever be able to stow away, something real and raw, perfect spank bank material.

"I want the first one, where his eyes are open," Santi told Will when he was done, "Calling dibs."

"You got it."

Finally, Benny and Santi pulled themselves slowly out of Frankie's mouth, leaving him nothing but a drooling, lightheaded mess on his knees in front of them. He gasped for breath, head going down as he coughed and spluttered. He felt Will's hands patting his back, helping him through it as his chest heaved.

"Gonna come all over that pretty face, Fish," he heard Benny groan, "Open that mouth again, gonna fill it up."

With all the strength he could muster, Frankie tilted his head up and shakily opened his mouth again. His jaw was sore and aching but he knew he could last a little longer, knew he could give his friends what they needed before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. He watched as Benny jerked his cock in front of his face, watched the way his precum bubbled and spilled at the tip before being replaced with ropes and ropes of hot cum. If Benny was known for anything when it came to their little extracurriculars, it was certainly the ridiculous amount of spend he was able to produce.

"Right in the back of his fuckin' throat," he groaned, watching as it spurted into Frankie's open mouth, "Knew I had perfect aim." He redirected the head of his cock to further paint more of Frankie's face, covering him with thick white all over his cheeks and lips. "Don't swallow it, Fish," he managed to moan out, "Keep aaaall of it in there for me like the good boy you are."

A few more spurts along his neck and chest, one more in his mouth, and then Benny was tapping the head of his cock against Frankie's tongue again, watching as the last few drops spilled out onto it. Frankie peered up at him with heavy lids, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat.

"Yeah," Benny breathed, tapping his tongue again, "That's for you, s'all for you." He pulled his cock out and took a step back, nodding toward Santi, "Go ahead, man. I think he's spent."

"He'll be okay," Santi said softly, shuffling in front of Frankie again and pressing the sticky tip of his cock to the corner of his cum-filled mouth, "Huh, baby? Can you last a little longer? Just a few more minutes for me?" Frankie nodded and he smiled, "Open wide, baby boy."

"Come on, I don't want him to swallow it yet," Benny said a little exasperatedly as Santi slipped the head of his cock past Frankie's lips, the tiniest bit of Benny's cum dribbling from the left corner of his mouth.

"He won't swallow," Santi murmured, "He's just gonna get my dick a little wet." He looked up to share a knowing look with Benny, like a little secret between them, and Benny turned bright red.

At his words, Frankie swirled Benny's cum around the head of Santi's cock, coating it in the salty substance. He gazed up into Santi's eyes as he did it, almost like he was silently whispering to him, pleading; I'm ready now, I'm ready for you to give it to me.

"Okay, Francisco," Santi whispered, just for him, "Lo has hecho tan bien." You've done so well.

He pulled out of Frankie with a pornographic squelching sound and began to work Benny's cum and Frankie's saliva up and down the length of his cock, still staring directly into Frankie's deep brown eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip, brows furrowing as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge.

"Ask for it," he said quietly, edged with something unhinged.

"Please," Frankie breathed, voice garbled and muffled by the cum in his mouth and the ache in his throat, "Please come on me, Santi."

And that was enough.

"Mierda," Santi groaned out, stomach tensing as his thick cock twitched in his grasp. Frankie didn't close his eyes this time, kept them locked onto Santi's as cum drenched his face. It splashed along his cheek and nose in short bursts, dripped down his neck and collected in the corners of his mouth. Without being able to help it, he popped his mouth open one final time to allow Santi to add more cum to the cocktail on his tongue.

"Christ," Will muttered a few steps away, "Would ya look at that?"

"This," Benny sighed, a smile in his voice, "This is what we needed. Fuck Redfly, man."

In any other circumstance Santiago probably would have smacked Benny on the back of the head for disrespecting the team leader, but he was a little more than preoccupied at the moment. He was still staring down into Frankie's eyes, lost in a daze as Frankie tugged him back into his mouth with his tongue and sucked the last remaining spurt of cum from the tip of his cock.

"C'mere, watch him swallow," Santi gestured for the others to join him, and they all resumed their positions in front of Frankie with heavy lidded eyes as they watched him suck.

"Show us first," Benny murmured, "Come on, Fish, show us what's in your mouth, huh?"

Releasing Santi's cock with a pop, Frankie carefully opened his mouth to show his friends the pool of cum swirling on his tongue, dripping down into the soft pockets of his cheeks. Practically in awe, they all stared as he played with it, twisted his tongue back and forth and moving the thick globs of cum from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Swallow," Santi whispered, and Frankie obeyed.

It felt like heaven going down his throat, thick and warm. His eyes rolled a little, tongue darting behind his teeth to lick any that he'd missed, swallowing again and then dropping his jaw to show them his clean tongue, mouth empty.

"Good boy."

They stood there in silence for a moment, almost in reverence. Frankie was a mess, covered in three thick loads of spend and still on his knees with his cock bobbing against his stomach. He was so aroused it was almost painful, the head of his cock pulsing along with his heartbeat as he waited for an order, a command. He whined a little, waiting for someone to do something.

"Untie him," Santi finally told Benny with a smirk, "I think he's ready now."

Ready was an understatement. So much of an understatement in fact that Benny had barely brushed against Frankie's hands to untie the string when Frankie was suddenly letting out the loudest moan of the night, high and unbridled and full of pleasured desperation. Benny practically ripped the string from his hands to turn around and get a better look, watching with wide eyes as Frankie started to come with his cock completely untouched.

It was truly a sight to behold. His three friends stood frozen with their eyes glued to Frankie's cock as it bobbed and twitched of it's own accord, slapped repeatedly against his own stomach and dipped into his belly button. They watched as thick ropes of cum began to spill from his weeping tip, painting his stomach and chest, his chin, the floor. His balls shivered and tightened, more spurting out again and again as he writhed and shook on his knees, making the most pathetic little sounds as his eyes rolled.

Four loads now.

They were all in shock. They'd known he could do it, had felt him come in his pants untouched more than enough times at that point to know it was possible for him. But Christ, they'd never seen anything like it.

The room went silent as Frankie caught his breath, as he came down from his untouched orgasm and his loud outburst. They all watched as his cock continued to twitch with aftershocks, Benny letting out a soft groan when a little more cum dribbled from the tip. And then it was over.

More silence, save for Frankie's gasps and whimpers. And then Will took a step forward.

"Thank you, Fish," he told him earnestly, patting him on the shoulder and squeezing it gently, "That was... fuck. Thank you. You're fuckin' incredible."

Frankie looked up at him through fluttering lashes and nodded with a small smile, and then Will disappeared back to the bunks.

Benny was next. He got down on Frankie's level and came face to face with him, a grin on his face, "You're so pretty, Frank," he told him softly, "And you did so good. S'at what you needed?" Frankie nodded and Benny ruffled his hair a little bit, "Thanks, man. Thank you. We're gonna kill it tomorrow."

He followed his brother back to the bunks, leaving just Frankie and Santi alone together. Just like Benny had, Santi kneeled down to meet Frankie at eye level, picking up his cap along the way and carefully placing it on top of Frankie's head with a smile.

"Did I do good?" Frankie asked him softly, voice hoarse.

Santiago smiled even wider, pulled the cap down a bit further and murmured, "Si, Francisco. Perfecto."

A sleepy and sated grin lit up Frankie's cum-coated face. He could still feel everything, the thick layer of spend on his cheeks and chest, his slowly softening cock, the ache in his jaw - and he loved all of it. It felt right. So fucking right.

"Can you take a picture?" he suddenly asked, eyes alight, "Of me? Like this? I wanna... I wanna keep it. To remember it."

Santi's eyes softened even more, hand coming up to gently stroke Frankie's bare shoulder, "I can do that."

Santi grabbed the polaroid camera, held it front of his face and peered down at Frankie with a fond smile as his friend looked up at him softly, tiredly. "Show me those eyes, Francisco," he murmured, and Frankie halted the fluttering of his lashes to give the camera his ultimate fucked-out expression, a smile playing at his lips. The camera flashed and Santi pulled out the developed picture, waving it in the air as he settled back down in front of Frankie.

"Look at all this," he murmured softly, reaching up to gently thumb a bit of the cum on Frankie's face and scoop it carefully into his friend's mouth. Frankie sucked Santi's thumb with ease, sleepy and docile.

"S'yours," Frankie breathed when Santi pulled it back out.

Santi raised an eyebrow, "Mine?"

"What you just put in my mouth," Frankie clarified with a flush to his cheeks, "That was yours."

"You can tell?"

Frankie nodded with a soft chuckle, "Yeah, I can tell you all apart."

And if that wasn't the hottest thing Santiago had ever heard in his life.

Getting up from the floor was a bit of a task, but Santi helped him every step of the way. He lead Frankie to the showers where he let him lean against the wall, let him bask in the warmth of the hot water and the feeling of soap and shampoo as Santi worshipped him in a different way, a new way. Pressed kisses to his temples and his forehead, took his time lathering Frankie's arms and legs, gently cleaned his coated face and spent cock. And when he was done, Santi wrapped him in a towel and brought him back to his bunk, laid beside him and kissed him slow and deep until it felt like all that existed was just the two of them, nobody else.

He'd placed the polaroid in Frankie's bedside table and stroked his hair, murmured those familiar soft and gentle praises as he drifted to sleep.

Needless to say, their first mission was a success.

You're lying down with him now. It's well past midnight, moonlight streaming in through your bare-bones new bedroom as you peer at him quietly from under your lashes. He looks tired - he's been talking for over an hour now.

"There's more," he murmurs, eyes drooping, "More happened after that, a lot more, but I-"

"You've told me more than enough," you whisper, "You've been so honest, Frankie." Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek, your mouth turning up slightly at the corners when his eyes start to close, "Thank you for telling me about that."

He hums, breathes deeply as sleep slowly starts to find him. You can't help but stare at him, watch his face turn peaceful, the lines in the corners of his eyes smoothing out, his full lips relaxing into a natural frown. He's so beautiful. He's so.... good.

You think of him back then, the way he probably used to be. So unsure, so new to the real world and so close to facing things he'd never anticipated. You picture him lying in his bunk with Will above him, Santi and Benny beside him, Tom somewhere else, somewhere distant - it makes sense now. It all makes sense.

And now he's lying in his own bed, in his own house, years later - with you. You, the only thing you think has really made sense to him for a long time, the only thing that's helped him overcome some of life's worst obstacles, the pain and the trauma from the shit he's dealt with throughout his life.

But despite all of this, despite the past few years you've spent together, you suddenly can't help but wonder where he'd be right now if you hadn't met.

Would he be in Santiago's bed?

You slip out from under the blankets and grab your phone from your nightstand, making sure to turn out the light before heading to the kitchen. Your nostrils are met with the smell of fresh paint and leftover chow mein as you flick on the overhead and settle yourself on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

Unsure exactly why, you unlock your phone and scroll through your contacts, biting your lip as you search for Santiago's name. When you finally find it, you tap on it, feeling something odd sink in your heart when you see the lack of messages. You've never texted him? Not even once? You lean back and try to think of the last time you even had a conversation alone with him without Frankie or the others there, just a one-on-one interaction... and you come up blank.

He'd been such a huge part of Frankie's life. And still is now - still sees him on weekends, goes to games and bars, came over to the old apartment for drinks and dinner pretty regularly. He's been there for Frankie in ways you never could have imagined or guessed, took care of him and comforted him, would probably take a bullet for him - hell, he actually might've for all you know.

You look back down at your phone and stare at the blank space where words should be, feel that guilt from earlier rise in your chest and make a home in the form of a lump in your throat.

You start typing out a message.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Buried Secrets Teaser

Buried Secrets Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales x OFC

Evening my lovelies,

I’ve been working on the outline for Buried Secrets. Why does the thought of angrily smacking Frankie’s hat off his head to shut him up by kissing him sound so fun… and hot? And in the middle of the hot jungle…up against some ancient ruins? Yes please! This was literally one of the first scenes that came to me for this fic. Why am I like this? 😅

I just felt like you all needed this image in your head going into the new year. I’m not sorry.

But the drama between these two! I can’t wait. They are gonna be so much fun. 😏

💜Mysty

Summary: After the harrowing events in South America, Frankie and the guys have returned home and opened their own private security business. They're eventually approached by an archeologist, named Mya, who is requesting their specialized services for an archeological expedition in the Amazonian jungle of southeastern Peru, hours away from where they stashed Lorea's money just over the border in the mountains of northern Chile.

Frankie is hesitant to accept the job, but with Pope's insistence this could be their cover to go back for the money, he relents. However, Frankie soon learns their new job assignment only further puts them and his new love interest in danger in an unexpected way as they set out to find the lost Incan city of Paititi.

👉 Warnings: smut (MDNI), angst, mentions of mental health struggles and past drug use (it's Frankie), there are bad guys with weapons (gun violence, physical violence, death). Frankie Morales comes with his own warnings.

✨If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

BS Taglist: @2birdsofafeather @72scsuze @76bookworm76 @a-beautiful-but-sassy-world @almostfoxglove

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @annalovesflorida @anniet852 @ashleyfilm @ashlovesdrpepper

@auteurdelabre @avastrasposts @biggetywitch @bitchwitch1981 @bluestar22x

@bunniboo0015 @burntheedges @captainredspade @chaoticfestninja @cheekychaos28

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Damn tumblr and their 50 tag limit.😒

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 5

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Author's Note: I tried a little something different with this, in which there's a convo that happens in Instagram DMs so I made like an edit and posted the screenshots as a way for you guys to read them! But I also put the conversation in the image description for each screenshot if it's easier to read that way! Let me know if you guys like it and I should continue doing that!

The brief nap and unexpected conversation with Rafe had sobered Isla up by the time she joins her friends in the backyard once again, all of whom are tipsy or beyond. As soon as he spots her, JJ shoves a cup of beer in Isla’s hand, which she accepts without a fight as she settles down at the base of a tree where her friends are sitting. The party around them rages on, people dancing and chatting and swimming and playing games, the music drifting through the air but nearly drowned out by the noise of everything else.

As she stretches her legs out, Pope sniffs the air and glances at her questioningly. “Were you smoking?”

Lips on the rim of her cup, her gaze darts to Pope’s, mildly surprised, while JJ pipes up, “Without me?”

“Not weed,” Pope tells him with a roll of his eyes.

Isla slowly lowers the cup. “Yeah. Bummed one off some guy,” she answers with a casual shrug.

Pope purses his lips at her. “Those things will kill you, you know.”

Widening her eyes, Isla gasps. “Really? I had no idea,” she exclaims, feigning shock and dissolving into laughter when Pope shoves her.

“Don’t come crying to me if you get lung cancer,” he says, leaning back on his hands resting on the grass, wincing when Cleo smacks him on the chest.

“Don’t joke,” she tells him pointedly, looking up at him with a half-hearted glare. He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead in apology, which seems to satisfy her. She lets out a long, content sigh. “This summer is going to be amazing, I can feel it,” Cleo  says from where she lays with her head on Pope’s lap. “The outdoor movies, boat rides, barbecues, concerts—I’m ready for it.”

Kie raises her cup of beer in cheers. “Back to OBX life, baby,” she grins.

Isla was of the same mindset, smiling into her next sip of beer as she thought of the coming months. It’s the last summer before college, and while in between all of the fun Isla and Kie will be working at their family’s restaurant, Isla is still looking forward to the summer.

They sat together, discussing their plans for the summer—most of them with each other—as the party continued on around them. Isla watches people jump into the pool, the group of them sitting far enough away from the splash zone, and she feels a smile tugging on her lips as she closes her eyes and leans her head up against the tree. The weather is perfect, warm with a cool breeze every now and then, and she lets out a long sigh of relief before taking another sip of beer.

“Midsummers is also coming up,” Sarah comments, prompting Isla to open her eyes while Kie groans.

“Don’t remind me,” her sister mutters, twirling a dandelion between her fingers, face scrunching in distaste. 

Isla gives a shrug. “I don’t mind it.”

Kie’s nose wrinkles. “You enjoy being surrounded by rich people who spend the night trying to one-up each other by flashing how much money they have?”

JJ snorts as he, Pope, and Cleo rearrange their sitting positions to engage in a game of cards. Isla rolls her eyes at Kie. “No. I just have fun dressing up and eating good food. Sue me.”

The food at Midsummers was always top tier, especially when Pope’s dad was running the oyster bar. “You’re such a girly girl,” Kie quips.

“Why is that a bad thing?” Isla retorts, arching an eyebrow. “Where else am I gonna get a chance to wear high heels and a dress? The Chateau?” She gets to her feet, feeling a little miffed at Kie’s comment. She and her sister share a lot of similarities, but they’re also plenty different; one of them being that Isla will never pass up an opportunity to dress up for an event. While she doesn’t particularly enjoy all of the events that they attend in Figure Eight, most of her joy comes from the process of getting ready, dressing up, doing her makeup. She’s always been that way, and no one has ever faulted her for it. Why should they?

But sometimes Kie’s distaste for all things Figure Eight gets the better of her, and she’ll get the tendency to make Isla feel bad for her not caring as deeply as Kie does. She’s a Pogue, just like her sister and friends, but is it so wrong to like some things about Figure Eight? Her friends don’t think so—of course, they don’t. If they did, John B wouldn’t be dating Sarah, who they all welcomed into their fold, nor would they be spending their Friday night at a party here, either. Kie can just take it too far sometimes.

“Where are you going?” she frowns up at Isla.

“I need some chips,” she says, which is only half true. She kind of doesn’t want to talk to Kie at the moment. It’s nothing serious, just some sisterly annoyance which she’ll get over in the next five minutes. She is kind of hungry, though.

John B pushes himself up, too. “I’ll come with.” Standing straight, he reaches down to brush some of Sarah’s blonde locks away from her face. “Want anything?”

She shakes her head, smiling. “I’m okay.”

“I’m good too,” JJ tells John B with a smirk.

“Same,” Pope and Cleo add, twin shit-eating grins on their faces. John B merely flips them all off and joins Isla on the trek towards the house, throwing his arm over her shoulders. 

“You good, buddy?” John B asks her as they walk by the pool.

Isla nods, chin lifting slightly. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” she responds, wincing only slightly as they pass by the speaker that’s blasting music. In a mumble, she adds, “Jesus, that’s loud.”

“Okay, grandma,” John B snickers, which results in Isla digging her elbow into his ribs while sipping the beer. “You looked a little ticked off at Kie.”

They walk into the house, weaving around party goers, his arm still around her shoulders in brotherly affection. Isla sighs, unsurprised that John B caught her expression or slight shift in demeanor. The guy is the Pogue-anointed leader of their group; he’s always had the ability to be in-tune with his friends. “You know her,” she says as they approach the kitchen. “She doesn’t mean anything by it, really, but she’ll make those subtle comments about me that almost make it seem like she’s judging me because some of my interests are different than hers.” With a roll of her eyes, she shoots him a look and adds, “Not Pogue enough, I guess.”

“Ah,” John B says with a sage nod of his head. “Whether she means anything by it or not, she loves you all the same, Isla. We all do,” he says with a smile, giving her arm a squeeze. “But if her comments bother you, just let her know. I doubt she’d ever want to hurt your feelings if she can help it.”

“You’re right,” she sighs again. He made the non-issue seem easily resolvable, which Isla’s sure it is. 

The kitchen counter is littered with snacks, a lot of which are opened already and have been dug through. There’s even a bag of marshmallows, and Isla pops one into her mouth as John B stands a few feet away, raising his eyebrows at her expectantly as he opens his mouth wide, silently signaling her. With a laugh as she chews the one in her mouth, Isla grabs another marshmallow and tosses it towards him, grinning widely when John B catches it in his mouth.

“Incredible,” she gushes exaggeratedly with a clap of her hands, John B taking a bow in response that only makes her laugh more. Turning to the several bags of chips on the counter, Isla asks him, “Which one should we steal for ourselves?”

John B hums thoughtfully, lifting his hat up to run his fingers through his hair before fitting the cap back down. “How about—”

“I was hoping to run into you here, Isla.” She freezes at the familiar voice, gaze flickering up to see Carlo standing on the other side of the counter, dark eyes fixed on her. Oh, fucking hell. “I wanted to—”

“Nope,” Isla cuts him off with a sharp shake of her head, lips pursing at the way he frowns at being interrupted. Screw him. “I have nothing to say to you, and I promise there’s nothing you can say that I’d wanna hear. So, no.”

Carlo’s forehead creases even more as his frown deepens. “Don’t you think you’re being childish?”

“Hey, buddy,” John B says from next to her, raising his eyebrows at Carlo. “She said she’s not interested. Take the hint and walk away.”

“Fuck off, Routledge, I wasn’t talking to you,” Carlo scowls and Isla’s stomach twists, dreading that getting him to leave her alone wouldn’t be easy. His eyes flicker back to Isla, and even the counter separating them isn’t creating enough distance. “Come on, Isla. We never got the chance to talk things out.”

She exchanges a look of disbelief with John B, who also looks pissed on her behalf as his narrow eyed stare goes back to Carlo. She half expects John B to walk around the counter and get physical with Carlo. “What the hell are you talking about?” she says to Carlo, exasperated. “What is there to talk about? You cheated. I broke up with you. End of story.”

Her pulse is quickening, wanting him gone, as John B crosses his arms and says to Carlo tightly, “Yeah. End of story. Now leave.”

Carlo’s jaw clenches. He’s around the same height as John B, their stare even as he glares. “This ain’t your damn house, John B.”

“No, but it is mine.”

Isla’s eyes widen, the air whooshing out of her lungs when she sees Rafe entering the kitchen. She’s pretty sure her pulse skitters when she sees the cold expression on Rafe’s features, his gaze on Carlo as he takes a few steps closer. No scowl, no glare, but a chilling look of indifference that contrasted to the hardness of his icy blue eyes. She can’t help but think this look on him is far more intimidating, in addition to how his six-foot-two height towers over Carlo, and even a little bit over John B—who tenses up next to her, like he doesn’t think Rafe’s arrival is a good thing.

When did Isla start thinking it is?

Because she finds herself relaxing upon Rafe’s entry, the tight knot loosening in her chest as he stands a few feet away from Carlo, who has the right mind to look a little frightened. It brings Isla more satisfaction than it should. 

Carlo finds his tongue. “I was just—”

“Leaving? Good choice,” Rafe cuts him off with a nod. When Carlo gapes at him, Rafe arches an eyebrow. He may look calm and collected, but Isla notices the muscle in his jaw jumping, like he’s grinding his teeth together. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Get the fuck out while your dignity is still intact.” He gives Carlo a slow once over, lips curling back into a sneer. “Whatever little of it there’s left.”

Isla claps her lips together, which had been parted in shock, in order to stifle back a gasping laugh. Her gaze darts to her left to John B, who is watching the whole interaction looking a helpless combination of bewildered, surprised, and wary. She can’t really blame him. Rafe Cameron, of all people, is coming to her defense, and while this isn’t the first time for Isla, it is for John B, and she can only imagine what’s going through his head right now. Probably a bit of the same of what was going through hers that first time.

Right now, though, she stands in the Cameron’s kitchen with her skin warming, watching as Carlo’s jaw works, looking as though he’s genuinely considering telling Rafe to fuck off or, worse, swing at him. She knows for a fact Carlo won’t win that fight. So when he looks at Isla, features tight and a contemptuous look hardening his eyes, she knows that he’s going to leave her alone for now.

He turns and stalks out of the kitchen, his departure making it easier for Isla to breathe as the tension eases out of her shoulders, which sink as she lets out a sigh of relief. Rafe finally turns to look at her, blue eyes meeting her brown, and she watches as the hardness in his gaze melts away, softening as he runs his eyes over like. Almost as if. . . He’s making sure she’s okay.

And then when he subtly arches an eyebrow, Isla knows he’s making sure. 

Heart fluttering erratically, Isla dips her chin in an almost imperceptible nod. Still, she finds herself saying, “Thank you for that.”

“Yeah, very decent of you.” Isla almost startles when John B speaks up, gaze snapping over to her friend. He’s watching Rafe with that same wary look, though there’s that familiar touch of patronization that her friends and Rafe always get when they’re talking to each other. Isla tenses up ever so slightly; she doesn’t think she can handle any sort of confrontation between them right now. Not when John B is her friend and Rafe has been so. . . Different with her. John B lifts his chin. “Very un-Kook-like.”

Rafe’s gaze slides over to John B and immediately his expression shifts, that smug smirk returning that’s always been so condescending. Isla knows she should only see it as that, and yet. . . She can’t help but find it attractive. Oh, God.

“It’s not like you were doing much to help,” Rafe says in return, arching an eyebrow.

John B scoffs while Isla takes a long sip of her beer. “I did the exact same thing as you did, which was just talk to him, by the way.”

Rafe cocks his head to the side, smug. “And who did he actually listen to?”

When Isla notes the narrowing of John B’s eyes, she steps in. “Alright, we’re not having a dick measuring contest, okay?” she says, cheeks flushing ever so slightly at the mere thought of Rafe’s dick. The heat only seems to intensify when his gaze touches her, something intense passing through his eyes in an instant. “Thank you both for your help. Let’s move on.”

She grabs the bag of barbecue flavored chips, grasping John B’s upper arm with her free hand to pull him out of the kitchen. He glares at Rafe until the second when Isla shoves him out of the kitchen, only pausing briefly enough to glance over her shoulder at Rafe. She doesn’t know why she does it until their gazes meet and she finds herself smiling as she mouths, thank you.

And then Isla sees his shoulders relax, the smirk turning into the smallest of smiles as he dips his chin in return, and the fluttering returns to her stomach once more.

“Well, that was fucking weird,” John B remarks as they walk through the back doors and step out into the backyard.

“A little,” Isla lies. She digs through the bag of chips and practically shoves a handful in  her mouth, hoping John B won’t linger on this topic of conversation.

Of course, that’s only wishful thinking, because the moment they arrive back where their friends are sitting, he announces, “Something weird just happened.”

Isla suppresses a sigh as she sits back down, back against the tree, while a chorus of “what?” sound from the others. As John B sits next to Sarah, he informs them, “Well, first, fucking Carlo was here.”

“Who the fuck invited that piece of shit?” JJ asks while Kie looks over at Isla. Whatever annoyance from before disappears as her sister silently, with her eyes, asks if Isla is okay. She just nods in response, giving a small smile.

“Don’t look at me,” Sarah says with a shake of her head, hands raising in defense. “He probably tagged along with someone.”

“Is he still here?” Pope asks, dark eyes darting around the yard, seeking out Isla’s ex.

“No, he left,” John B answers. “Which brings me to the actual weird thing.” Isla holds her breath as he briefly meets Sarah’s gaze before telling the group, “Rafe was the one who kicked Carlo out.”

“Rafe?” Cleo repeats, eyebrows shooting up. “Rafe Cameron?”

JJ shoots her a droll look. “How many Rafes do you know?” he asks, earning the middle finger from Cleo. “You’re telling me King Kook stepped in and helped you?” he adds, glancing at Isla in surprise.

Sarah tilts her head. “I thought my dad was King Kook?” she murmurs, almost to herself, unperturbed by the label. She shakes her head before saying, louder, “You guys, my brother isn’t some villain. He has his moments.”

“As rare as they might be,” Kie adds on with a pointed arch of her eyebrow as her gaze flicks back to Isla.

Their eyes meet and Isla tenses because she can see the clear question in her sister’s eyes, and can see where her thoughts wandered. And right now, Kie is thinking of when Isla had told her how Rafe had helped her out when her car broke down, which the rest of their friends still don’t know about. Adding what just happened now, her friends would have questions, suspicions, and Isla couldn’t honestly refute any of them because of her own changing opinion of Rafe. She couldn’t truthfully tell them it wasn’t a big deal, that it was just a one time thing—because neither of those things were true. At least, not for Isla.

So Isla gives a minute shake of her head, needing Kie to understand what she’s silently telling her. Kiara raises an eyebrow and Isla knows that though Kie remains silent, they will definitely be talking about this later. Isla isn’t looking forward to it.

*****

“So. Spill.”

Isla exhales sharply through her nose, bending down to spit out the toothpaste-tinted water in the sink. As she dries her face, she looks at Kie, who is leaning against the bathroom door frame, arms crossed. Trying not to be too rattled, Isla says nonchalantly, “There’s nothing to spill.”

“Fuck off,” Kie laughs, shaking her head. “You told me he gave you a ride the other week when your car broke down, and tonight he kicked out your ex? Those are nice things,” she emphasizes with a raise of her eyebrows. “And Rafe’s not that nice of a guy.”

Isla shrugs as she rubs and pats moisturizer on her face. “I don’t have an insight into his head, Kie,” she says with a slight chuckle, wanting to brush this conversation off. “I don’t know what he’s thinking. But—” She decides to be honest, meeting her sister’s gaze. “I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, you know? He helped me both times when he didn’t have to, and I appreciate it. That’s all.”

Kie twists her lips to the side, not entirely looking convinced. “It’s still sus,” she says. “Like, at least tonight. Why step in at all? John B was there, it’s not like you were dealing with Carlo on your own.”

As Isla rubs lotion up and down her arms, gaze on the movement of her hands, a ghost of a smile tugs at her lips as she remarks, “Maybe it was his good deed of the month.”

“What?” Kie asks, puzzled.

Isla resists the urge to swallow, and instead chuckles. “Nothing.” She shoots her sister a smile. “Anyway, it’s whatever,” she says, moving past Kie to get out of the bathroom. “Who knows why Rafe does anything?”

Kie snorts, moving into the bathroom for her turn to get ready for the night. It’s a little after two in the morning, their parents fast asleep, and at this point, neither of them are too drunk. Isla hadn’t drank anything after the beer JJ had handed to her, and Kie knows her limits when it comes to drinking. “I guess so,” she muses, tying her hair up into a messy bun.

Isla goes to her own room, shutting the door behind her before climbing into bed, sighing as she slips under the cool sheets. The main room lights are off, but she keeps the colorful LED lights hanging in front of her curtains on, bathing her room in dim colors as she unlocks her phone.

The first thing she does is go on Instagram, scrolling through her notifications to see people liking and commenting on her posts and stories from the party tonight. But her thumb freezes when she notices the top notification, which came in just three minutes ago.

Rafe.Cameron1104 is now following you!

Her eyes widen, the breath stilling in her lungs, even as she tells herself this isn’t a big fucking deal. Because it’s not. Yet, she still clicks on his profile, and before she decides whether or not to follow him back—because she is damn sure her friends will notice—she does a little stalking, feeling heat pool into her cheeks as she does, like she’s doing something wrong.

Still, Isla can’t help but scroll through Rafe’s profile. He doesn’t post that much, but his posts are mostly what she expects them to be; on his family’s yacht, with his friends, some with his family. No selfies, which doesn’t surprise her, but Isla does find herself looking at the solo shots of him, biting the inside of her cheek when she stares a little too long at the shirtless photos that makes her blood heat up in her veins. He’s fit, which is known, with broad shoulders and lean muscles, his torso tight with prominent abs glinting against the sunlight. Enough to make her mouth grow dry.

God, what’s wrong with her?

Why did he follow her? More importantly, why is she freaking out like she’s a middle schooler with a crush? Despite her warring thoughts, Isla scrolls to the top of his profile, thumb hovering over the blue follow button. A bunch of people she knows follow him, though none are her friends—except for Sarah, of course. Isla hesitates before letting out a quiet huff, hoping her friends don’t weirdly check Instagram followings, and presses the follow button before exiting out of the app, locking her phone, and dropping it on her stomach, all in the matter of five seconds. 

She stares, wide eyed, at the ceiling while trying to slow down her foolishly racing pulse, chest rising and falling with every breath she takes. “What the fuck, Isla?” she whispers to herself in the dim lighting of her room, looking at the kaleidoscope of colors reflecting off the ceiling thanks to the LED lights. 

He’s literally just a guy. A guy that, admittedly, her friends don’t like and she shouldn’t, either. Too often have JJ, John B, and Pope gotten into fights, both verbal and physical, with Rafe and his friends. Granted, her friends sometimes instigate the fights just as much as Rafe and his friends do, but the animosity has existed for years now. Which should be reason enough why Isla shouldn’t be engaging with Rafe anymore than she already has. Hell, smoking with him in his room tonight could be considered crossing a line, where her friends are concerned. 

It feels like she’s playing a dangerous game—one where she has no idea what the rules even are.

Her phone suddenly buzzes and Isla’s throat dries as she lifts it, squinting against the bright screen. When she reads the notification, her stomach does a somersault, reading the message Rafe sent her on Instagram. God, why is he awake? Embarrassment floods her cheeks, knowing he received the notification of her follow back right away. Part of her wants to pretend she never got the notification of his message and just go to sleep, but intrigue wins out, and she opens Instagram and goes on her direct messages.

She rolls her lower lip into her mouth, reading those three words with a flutter in her belly, thumbs hovering over the keypad until she figures out how to respond.

Isla takes a deep breath, reading Rafe’s last message a few too many times before exiting out of the app, finding it a good place to let the conversation naturally end. The last thing she needs to keep doing is messaging Rafe Cameron in the middle of the night. So she plugs her phone into the charger and rests it on her bedside, turning away and burrowing herself deeper into her cocoon of blankets, needing sleep to take her away from the turbulent thoughts that surround Rafe.

[princessbrunette]

https://x.com/equine__dentist/status/1741621341424435424?s=46&t=xKUI4DWpkut_nu8bHDrr2w

Jj convincing pope that this line will pull you

mind you this is jj in the baddies dms

[writefightandflightclub]

Ride or Die (Santiago "Pope" Garcia x fem!reader): Series Masterlist & Warnings

Posting schedule and Series Masterlist

This is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are queued.

Chapter One: POSTED

Chapter Two: POSTED

Chapter Three: POSTED

Chapter Four: POSTED

Chapter Five: POSTED

Chapter Six: POSTED

Chapter Seven: POSTED

Chapter Eight: POSTED

Chapter Nine: POSTED

Chapter Ten: POSTED

Chapter Eleven: POSTED

BONUS content: PLAYLIST (TBC)

Series Warnings (below the cut):

To avoid chapter by chapter spoilers, this time I'm providing general, series-level warnings of the main themes covered throughout. This may also mean the list is non-exhaustive. If you need more information in order to safely avoid a trigger/topic, or to enhance your reading experience, you are welcome to DM me / send in an ask. Also, if you spot something I missed that you think should be included here to aid other readers, hmu!

Please note, the whole series is NSFW, MDNI (18+). Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Smut: EXPLICIT, CORE THEME e.g. fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, casual sex with other non-pairing partners implied off-screen.

Angst: A CORE THEME. Relationship angst. A lot of arguing / yelling (not trying to romanticise this at all!). Some toxic jealousy. Conflicts with friends. Abandonment fears. As well as this central relationship conflict, side characters are dealing with individual issues, such as those referenced in canon (divorce, prior violence, drug misuse etc.). 

Drugs / alcohol mentions: reader participates in casual social drinking throughout, some heavier drinking in one chapter (party context). Smoking (one chapter). Brief mentions of drug use (cocaine).

Food mentions: casual, frequent. 

Mentions typical of canon / e.g. wartime, US army, bullet wounds, car crash, injury, fear of mortality, violence (no graphic descriptions).

Mental health: implied past trauma typical of canon. Brief mentions of nightmares, possible PTSD.

Reader descriptions: fem!AFAB reader. Uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s hair is described a couple of times as being e.g. “pulled”. No hair texture / colour / style / other details specified or implied. Reader has a family who appear in a couple of chapters (sister and nephews). No physical descriptions of them are supplied. Mentioned that reader grew up with her sister, though not specified whether biological / adoptive / found family.

Spanish language: reader understands / speaks Spanish, though not specified what her first language is (or isn’t). I have avoided lengthy Spanish translations / text as I am not a native speaker. Some Spanish language is included, limited to terms of endearment and the like. I am always happy to be corrected. I research, but some mistakes are likely.

Sexual health / pregnancy: mentions of reader using birth control, including mentions of emergency contraceptives / slip-ups. Not a core theme. 

Religion: mentions of Catholicism.

Other: contains significant Tom. It’s pre-canon, I’m so sorry.