#god: you WILL be pope i can do this all day

[nemainofthewater]

Conclave timeloop where Benitez refuses the Papacy-

-and then wakes up back at the beginning of the conclave in Lawrence's office.

What does he do? Does he try to leave in those 10 minutes or so before seequestration begins? Does he help Lawrence uncover the other cardinals' secrets?

Is he eventually convinced that the only way for the loop to end is to make sure that Lawrence becomes pope? Is the actual reason that he denied the Papacy, so now he's stuck looping until he accepts his fate, only he is incredibly stubborn and can do this for the rest of eternity?

[littlelamy]

the one where he wants you again

s2!rafe x reader

rafe was pissed at himself. was he really that dumb to dump you so quickly? you were his bunny, his princess; if he asked you to jump, you would ask him how high. you were his. he didn't deserve you. but, God, he wanted you so badly. he needed you not only for your perfect body but because you did what others couldn't. he'd never tell himself that he loves you, but he does.

it was almost like an obsession. something about you that made him needy for you. something that made you a guilty pleasure for him. you are the only one who has ever made him think of a future. marriage, babies, anniversaries. all things that meant forever.

but rafe was scared. he was scared that one day you'll leave him. one day you'll listen to others and think his too crazy to be with. so he ended it before you could. now his sitting at this party after 10+ shots thinking of you while your smiling and giggling with a damn pogue right in front of his face.

you made it seem like you were okay but you were feeling just as sad as him. but you'd never say it. you want rafe to learn that there are consequences to actions. it took a lot for you not to jump into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck and kiss all over him, but rafe need a lesson. you are a gift, and he needs to treat you as such.

"y/n you there," pope says snapping his fingers in you face. "are you still thinking about rafe." yes. "if you want him so bad just tell him, maybe he'll change." no, you don't know rafe. you say to yourself.

"he's special to me, pope," you groan, annoyed at how bad you want him. "i can't just jump in his lap and play house with him. he hurt me, pope," you say feeling those familiar eyes watching you. "but, God, he looks so good," you complain looking at rafe out of the side of your eyes.

rafe couldn't take it anymore. he needed his bunny back. "pogue leave," rafe says sneaking up behind you and staring daggers at pope. "kook business so go," rafe rudely commands.

"rafe, stop being disrespectful," you turn around angrily. "his name is pope, and if you need to speak to me, you ask me nicely and take me aside. but you will not disrespect my friend." you say, turning back to pope, who is shocked. "i'm sorry, pope, I'll see you tomorrow at john b's party."

"it's fine, y/n, I'll see you tomorrow," pope says, still shaken up, walking away. you turn back around to an embarrassed rafe, as you gaze upon him his cockiness returns.

"so just because i dumped you doesn't mean, you come to this party looking like that," rafe gestures to your tight, short white dress looking like heaven on earth. "i told you that you can only wear that when you come to parties with me."

"um let me get this straight," you start. "you dumped me two days rafe, two days before my birthday, with some dumb excuse that ward didn't want you to be with me," you say, getting angry all over again. "then i see ward at the country club saying that he loved that rafe decide to date me because i make rafe a better person. so if i want to dress slutty, i can and you cant do any thing about it."

before you storm off, rafe gently grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. rafe was not going to let you leave this time. "don't do it, bunny," rafe whispers in you ear. "i messed up, baby. and i miss you. please don't do this," rafe pleads with his cool minty breath blowing in your ear. "please, princess, please." he's doing it again the begging thing that you love. everything felt so intense.

you fed up with the neediness pull rafe in by his neck and give him a quick but passionate peck on the lips. "rafe, you have to promise me, that you will try to do better," you order him, caressing the back of his neck. "i love you but you can't keep pushing me away," you say looking into his blue eyes.

rafe needs you. rafe wants you and only you. rafe gently nods his head, leaning down to give you another peck on the lips, mumbling an 'i love you.'

"come on, baby, let's go back to tannyhill and take a bath," you say to a love-struck rafe. "then we can talk more tomorrow, okay?" you finish.

"yes, princess, whatever you want," rafe agrees, pulling your hand out of topper's house. even though he messed up, you can't possibly give up on him.

[notebooks-and-laptops]

I hate the viper as the black divine btw I hate it I hate it I hate it

And no, it's not because it's a bad idea.

It's because it's an EXCELLENT idea, and the idea that they intended it to be canon (or planned for it to be) is quite frankly an insult to such a complex idea. Especially in the game series that used to explore religion quite seriously and which has decided, in the game about Gods and potentially disproving faith, it no longer actually cares about faith (the MAIN THEME OF THE PREVIOUS GAME).

Like. Firstly narratively the Black Divine being Viper could have had such an impact because you could have built to it. You meet Viper, get to know him... simultaneously you're meeting various imperial chantry officials. Maybe these chantry officials are even aligned with Venatori. They keep alluding to the Black Divine but you never meet him until ACT 3 when it turns out...the black divine was the viper all along.

And one assumes the black divine would turn to a life like the Vipers because they don't think their office is doing any real good. That's!!! Really interesting!!! Someone decked in glory and power realises their own office is a sham that is doing no good not stopping slavery or Venatori and so works to do it from the shadows...that's interesting!!! And has something to say about systematic power structures and how changing a system from the inside can be damn near impossible.

Or maybe he does this because he DOESNT want to risk his seat as the black divine but feels immense guilt about how he's not actually helping the faithful poor in his city. He wants to cling to his power because he believes he can nudge history in the right direction if he does, but simultaneously knows that by not speaking out publiclly on slavery or poverty he's potentially dooming people to death and so needs to sooth his guilt by going vigilanty. Maybe there's an interesting question in there somewhere about living in two worlds and trying to maintain the status quo in one and destroy it in the other.

Also it DIRECTLY parrellels previous characters like Cassandra and Leliana and is a continuation of inquisitions themes surrounding what good can faith ACTUALLY accomplish for people (this even goes back to da2 and Anders)? When does faith break/why? What

Also because it's not explained, it's just kinda stupid. Does Bioware think that high ranking religious officials do nothing all day? They're not billionaires sat in a mansion popping into occasional meetings, they're public figures and political leaders of giant organisations who regularly have to be on show to the masses and to their own advisors. I won't believe that they not only a) have time to be batman AND b) they also have time to just...sit around in some room in the middle of nowhere to be a performative faction leader to the protagonist of a video game they don't know they're in.

Also. Are you telling me. The venatori were going to execute the FANTASY POPE??? And nobody cared??? They were going to publiclly execute the FANTASY POPE and the viper wasn't going to reveal himself and he wasn't going to be recognised and that wasn't going to cause problems? Are you kidding me?

Tblr; the idea that the viper is the black divine is such a good idea it makes me so angry they seemingly couldn't be bothered to actually put the time into it to make it interesting

[st4rgiirll]

secret

jj maybank x routledge!reader.

this is heavily inspired by that part in friends where everyone finds out about monica and chandler😭 this is also in little segments for each character finding out.

also, some of the events dont match up to the storyline of the show. i just thought of storylines for this fic and incorporated them into this.

synopsis: jj and reader have had a secret relationship for the past couple months, secret all thanks to the ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule. but what if the pogues find out on their own?

you loved jj. truly. the past couple months with him have been amazing, though you both yearned to be able to do this in public. but you wouldnt, not with john b around. sneaking around with jj was fun,

of course it was, but it got repetitive very quickly.

until you got found out.

pope:

hushed giggles and rapid footsteps invaded your bedroom as jj and you rushed inside for some very much needed alone time together, lips crashing together between laughs. your hands wandered his biceps, feeling them flex and twitch under your fingers.

it wasnt long before his hands were on the back of your head, tugging your head closer for another kiss. you resisted, thinking you heard footsteps. he grumbled, trying to pull you closer once more.

“c’mon princess, i havent been able to kiss you all day! let me make up for it now.” he mumbled, lowering his head toward your neck.

he sucked and bit at your neck, soothing the slight sting with a swipe of his tongue. he barely got to touch you today, let alone kiss you! he felt like he was going insane.

“jay- just- someone might be coming.” you mumble lowly, tilting your head up to allow him to kiss your neck.

yeah, so what? your resolve was weak when it came to jj, you couldnt help it.

“you’re paranoid, cupcake. jus’ give papa j some lovin’ yeah?” he grins goofily against the supple skin of your neck.

“y-yeah… you’re right.” you agree, allowing your hand that was previously itching to grip jj’s hair finally doing so.

you allowed jj’s kisses to travel up your neck and to your lips, your tongues immediately fighting for dominance. jj sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, fiddling with your crop top’s straps. he pushed the strap to the side, allowing it to fall off your shoulder.

pope, who’d watched jj walk in your room, had swung the door open to ask jj what he was doing in your room. his jaw had dropped, but jj just smirked. until his brain caught up with what was happening, in which his smirk melted off his face and grew into a more flustered look.

“uhm- jj- y/n-“ pope stumbles over his words, eyes wide in shock.

your own face was complimented by a light tint of pink, your hands now resting on jj’s shoulders rather than in his hair.

“well- w-we can explain.” you say, hopping away from jj’s body.

“we’re kind of, like, seeing eachother… in secret though, so please please please… dont tell anyone, especially not jb.” you explain, your eyebrows pulled together in concern.

“y-yeah, yeah.. okay… how- i mean, how are you two together? why?” pope asks, confused.

“well pope, when two people love eachother-“ jj starts before you smack his chest.

“we got together after the midsummers, to be fair jj was pretty tipsy. but we’re really happy together, and he’s great.” you smile.

“and the sex is just as great-“ jj guffaws before you give him a deadpanned look and his laugh dies into more of an awkward smile.

“im uh, im happy for y’all…” pope says, before shooting us a smile and quickly making a break out of the room.

”god, that was so awkward.” you mutter.

kiara:

the both of you were at an infamous boneyard party, maybe a little too tipsy. neither of you cared very much though, just dancing and having fun with your boyfriend, brother, and friends.

you’d excused yourself to go and grab another drink, jj offering to come with you. he followed behind you like a lost puppy, and once you were far enough away from the others he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“y’know why they call this ‘the boneyard’ baby?” he whispered seductively with an even more seductive laugh.

“no, why?” you bit your lip to supress a smile.

“well, obviously because people’d come here all the time for parties. and y’know what they’d do?” he paused for a moment before continuing.

“they’d bone, baby!” he laughed, pulling your hips closer to his own.

“‘nd i think we should do the same… y’know, continue a legacy or some shit.”

“hmm..” you hum.

“i guess… it wouldnt be a bad idea..” you giggle, turning around and holding his face in your hands and pecking a kiss on his lips.

“mm, good girl.” he grins, his head going straight to your neck to suck hickeys onto the skin there all while being too drunk to care about who would see it in the morning.

you let out an involuntary shiver, your arms wrapping around his neck while your fingers fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“jump.” he mumbles huskily, and of course you comply with that tone of voice.

he catches you in his arms, wrapped around your thighs. he quickly takes you away from prying eyes toward the twinkie, pushing you against the door.

“the things you do to me…” he groans, his hand caressing your thigh.

“y’so pretty baby, cant believe i landed you…” he says in a lovestruck tone, kissing up your neck and eliciting a couple of breathy moans from you.

he pulls you away from the door to pull it open, laying you on the floor of the twinkie. within seconds of shutting the door, his lips are back on you sucking and kissing. his hips rolled against yours as his wandering hands pulled the end of your dress up.

“oh baby, y’soaked through your panties… all this mess f’me?” he smirks, fingers playing with the edge of your panties.

“y-yeah, all f’you jay… please..” you whimper, and of course he cant deny you.

he’s completely pussy whipped, and he doesnt mind admitting it.

“i know baby..” he coos.

“i’ll help you baby, my good girl..” he grunts, unbuckling his belt.

you giggled in excitement as your legs instinctively spread further for him, until the door opened and kie stood there.

you were frozen in shock, this was the second time! jj closed your legs, giving you some sort of dignity.

“kie…” he starts.

“oh my god… john b’s actually going to end you.” the frizzy haired girl muttered.

“what? no he wont, im his best friend. he knows i’ll take good care of her.” he shrugs, though deep down he was worried john b would disapprove.

“please, kie.. dont tell anyone, not even sarah… we’re gonna tell everyone eventually, but just in our own time.” you plead, hoping she’d keep this a secret for our sake.

“okay, fine… but you keep being reckless and everyone will find out on their own.” she said, before grabbing what she needed and shutting the door.

and god, you knew she was right.

cleo:

jj was just working at the shop, stocking shelves and working behind the counter. you were supposed to be doing the same. key word: supposed.

see, you were too busy ogling at jj. i mean, how could you not?! he was a total dreamboat with his fluffy hair, his cargo shorts, those damn sleeveless shirts he always wore that made you want to jump his bones. dont even start with the rings.

you figured you must be ovulating because this never usually was an issue, and the dirty thoughts infiltrating your mind definitely didnt help.

“staring’s rude y’know?” he laughs slightly, not even looking up from whatever he was doing from behind the counter.

“i wasnt staring.” you reply, clearing your throat and starting to stock shelves again.

“right, and im not baked all the time. sweetheart, there’s no shame in drooling.” he snickers.

“i am not drooling.” you had to check your mouth to make sure you really werent drooling, the way you were so distracted with him you werent even sure what was happening around you.

“whatever you say.” he sighs, closing the cash register after counting the money. “c’mere darlin’.”

you didnt even fight it when your legs automatically started moving behind the counter, god you were so down bad. and you didnt even care.

you immediately gripped his shirt and pulled him into a passionate kiss, not able to resist him and his damn kissable lips. he let out a surprised grunt, but kissed you back.

this kiss lasted for a couple minutes, blocking every other thing in the world out. you guys were in your own little bubble.

“whatchu doin’?” cleo’s voice sounds out from infront of the counter.

you quickly jump away from eachother, jj scratching the back of his neck. god this was so embarrassing, you seriously needed to get better at this sneaking around bullshit.

“ah, i see… you guys been mackin’ eachother huh?” the girl grinned.

“glad to see y/n’s finally getting some though.” she winked at you.

“ha ha, funny.” you huff.

“please dont tell anyone..” you ask.

“or do, not like it’d make much of a difference. we’re always getting caught-“ jj gets cut off by a slap to the chest.

“shush jj, she should keep it quiet.” you hiss.

“right, yeah. cleo, keep it quiet.” he says.

“huh. rude boy’s pussy whipped.” she huffs out a laugh, walking out of the shop.

“well- wh- are you gonna keep it quiet?!” jj calls our after cleo but earns no response.

john b & sarah:

jj and you were just cuddling, that was all. nothing more, nothing less. there wasnt any sexual intentions behind it, just some romantic cuddles between lovers. and he’d just been beaten by his dad, again, so he needed some extra loving from his girl.

“he’s an asshole, jay… i hate what he does to you, i wish i could kill ‘im for you..” you say softly, carding your fingers through his soft hair.

“i wouldnt let you do that, cant have my pretty girl goin’ to jail for me.” he smiles, kissing your cheek lovingly.

“mm, you’re so perfect jay.. y’know that?” you ask.

“nah sweetheart, i think you’re the perfect one.. have you looked in the mirror lately? i mean, hot damn.” he grins.

you blush, you were never good at accepting compliments. “jay, stop…” you whine a little, covering your face.

“nuh uh… i wanna see that beautiful face of yours.” he pulls your hands away from your face and pecks the tip of your nose.

“much better.” he smiles.

the door swings open, the exhausted couple - john b and sarah - barging through with their small, 3 year old toddler in tow.

“yo jayj, can-“ john b’s voice dies out in shock.

“what the fuck man?!” his voice rings out, sarah placing a hand on his bicep to ground him and remind him of his son still in the room.

“you’re macking my sister?!” john b huffs, the vein in his neck popping out in anger.

“john b- i-it isnt what you think! we arent.. macking! okay?!” you get up to stand infront of john b, blocking his view of jj.

“john b.. we’re dating, jj’s my boyfriend-“

“wow! that’s supposed to make it better?! you’re supposed to tell me, y/n! and jj! my best friend man, what the hell?! could’ve atleast asked for my permission!” john b was so angry, he just wanted the best for his baby sister, wanted to protect her.

he really wasnt ready to see her getting into relationships, having to let her go and be protected by some other guy who wasnt him. a guy who could hurt his baby sister.

“he doesnt need your permission! im my own person okay?! if there’s anyone you can trust with protecting me, its jj! you know that! he’s as loyal as a damn golden retriever!” you defended jj.

it seemed to calm john b a little, sarah was outside the bedroom so the little guy didnt hear the ruckus.

“yeah… god, yeah you’re right… i just- i dont want you to stop being my baby sister, i wanna be able to be the one you always come to when something’s wrong.. i wanna protect you.” john b says softly, he was used to having to protect you since dad had gone to find the royal merchant, and was now dead.

“i know… and you still can okay? you and jj can be like- like guard dogs, huh?” you giggle.

“john b.. man, i love her.. i really do. she’s everything to me. you can trust me.” jj reassures.

sarah comes back into the room once she hears the calm talking between you all, little baby jesse john routledge, or jj as everyone called him, following with a smile.

“so… you two huh?” sarah wiggles her eyebrows, grinning.

“yeah…” you smile, blushing slightly.

“well, i guess… i approve, but if you hurt her maybank-“ john b starts.

“you’ll kill me, i know. i’d kick myself over and over if i ever hurt her, before you could even kill me.” he sincerely reassures.

“well, now that’s over… could you watch jesse for us? we gotta go help out around the store…” sarah asks.

“sure, we’ll look after him.” you smile, picking little jesse up.

jj looks at you with the utmost love in his eyes, and john b knew he’d made a good choice trusting jj with you. john b could see how in love the maybank boy was, it was a look unlike any he’d ever seen on the boys face, and if you knew jj, you knew he was a facially expressive person.

john b smiled, ushering sarah out the door and closing it behind him. all he heard as they left were giggles from the three of us.

[itneverendshere]

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)

warnings: future smut. paring: smart!reader x himbo!rafe; ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)

you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.

what’s the point? okay, your school has incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?

the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.

up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him.

the verdict? total pain in your fucking ass.

ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him.

outrageous, never done before.

for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.

wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.

not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.

“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“

“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”

“just soccer?”

you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”

"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"

you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.

“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."

you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”

pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.

“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.

“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."

you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.

your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.

“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"

“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“

you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”

“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”

you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”

your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."

you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"

pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”

your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”

rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.

“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”

“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”

you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.

pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”

you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”

pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”

your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.

"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"

he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”

“seriously?”

pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”

your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.

“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”

he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”

you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”

he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."

you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."

he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."

you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."

it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?

“the ball’s in your court.”

yeah it is.

truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.

at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.

so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.

but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.

you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.

you had pope for that.

which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.

a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.

taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.

the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.

you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.

there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.

“hey?”

“you look like shit, cameron.”

rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”

you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”

rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”

you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.

there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.

"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”

rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."

he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.

you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”

"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."

“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”

rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"

"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”

you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.

and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.

“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. “will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”

rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.

“why are you mad at me?”

you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.

"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"

he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”

rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

that’s it.

you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.

“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”

for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.

“and you want to fuck me?”

you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.

“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”

he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”

"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”

rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”

“yes or no.”

rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”

“okay. so win your next match and you will.”

he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”

“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”

"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”

you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."

rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."

“i figured.”

he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”

you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”

rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order �� as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."

you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.

rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.

“just win the fucking match, cameron."

rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.

"consider it done."

[maybank5]

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞

pairing ��� yn x jj

summary ⤜ a happy future fic, because we need some healing; jj on the beach with his family reflecting on his life.

a/n ⤜ how are we doing fam? me? not so well. this has been the hardest fictional moment that's ever hit me. i'm choosing to believe our boy is still off somewhere and gonna have the best, most fulfilled and loving future. sending hugs and love to each of you!!

song inspo ⤜ no song inspo for this one; but i did have 'nights in white satin' on repeat as i wrote

The sun is setting over the horizon, sinking down into the ocean and melting into streams of gold and orange against the shimmering water. JJ Maybank perches on his surf board for a moment, admiring it. He's never considered himself to be the most religious of people. Sure, he attended Sunday school as a kid, knows the bible stories decently enough; and yeah, there's times when he catches himself praying. Like the time John B got into that nasty accident, or when his son was born. There'd been complications, things had been touch and go for a moment. JJ had pressed his head against the glossy white wall of the hospital waiting area, hoping to God that things would be okay, as John B and Sarah rubbed his back comfortingly.

The one time JJ didn't pray might have been the one time he should. He'd been stabbed, by his son of a bitch father. Not Luke, the "real one" though JJ found it almost funny how he preferred to think of Luke fuckin' Maybank as his actual father. At least Luke had never tried to stab him. But that was beside the point; JJ had been stabbed, and things were not looking good. John B had felt for a pulse and had felt nothing. JJ can still remember the feeling of floating away, like riding a wave to the horizon. He hadn't prayed then. Instead, he'd made peace with his fate. He'd lived a pretty damn full life in 20 years, and if this was the end of it, so be it. At least on the other side, no one would be trying to hurt him, right? That sounded mighty nice to him. So he'd closed his eyes and let himself drift off towards that horizon.

Only instead, he'd woken up in a hospital, still very much alive. His best friends at his side. Pope and Kiara barely left his side, and John B had practically crawled into the bed with him to hold him in his arms until a nurse had yelled at him. JJ doesn't remember feeling such love until that moment. And that was when it all changed. He'd been given a second chance, and an opportunity to see just how loved and valued he is. He was never going to squander it or take it for granted again.

The sun is sinking lower, the water in front of him glittering in gold. JJ pushes his wet hair back off his forehead to admire it. Years ago he'd have just shrugged it off. Sunsets were a dime a dozen. Not anymore though. Now JJ takes the moment to sit and watch and appreciate.

He glances back to the shore, where his wife and baby are playing in the sand. Harley John Maybank's (it'd be a cold day in hell if JJ ever took the name of that man) new favorite thing was trying to rush to the water, his mom and dad hot on his heels. JJ could tell already that Harley was going to be a handful, and he couldn't fucking wait.

The waves were rising higher. It'd make for a sick surf tonight. JJ bites his lip, turns and paddles back to the shore. Some priorities rank higher than waves.

He tucks his board under his arm and hurries over to where the two of you are building a sandcastle with Harley's little castle-shaped buckets.

"Hey, baby," you glance up at your husband, reaching out and touching his cheek with his hand, always little assurances like that to make sure he's real, "Not surfing?"

"Nah," JJ shakes some water from his head, "Much rather'd build sand castles with this little one," he ruffles Harley's head of blonde hair, glistening in the sunlight.

You can't help but smile as he sinks down into the damp sand to help Harley stuff sand into his buckets. Moments like these is when it truly hits you, just how blessed you are.

JJ gently helps Harley, his eyes so soft and full of love and devotion. Harley John is his utmost pride and joy. He's always been soft with you, but the gentleness in which he treats your son is beyond anything you could imagine.

JJ packs the sand into the bucket with the back of a little plastic shovel. He wonders if maybe there was a time he'd done this as a boy, but shakes the thought from his head. It doesn't matter. He can do it now. He can do it with Harley.

"Sarah called earlier," your voice pulls JJ from his thoughts, "She and John B are going to have Baby Jackson christened. John B is supposed to ask you to be the godfather tomorrow, but Sarah couldn't wait to tell me. You know the two of them, it's not a church thing or anything. Just The Pogues and the ocean."

"Sounds nice," JJ says, wrapping his arms around Harley and pulling him softly onto his lap.

JJ reaches for your hand, pulling you to him as well. He presses a kiss the back of your hand, holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. Nothing ever feels one hundred percent real unless JJ can feel it, touch it, revel in it. He tosses his head back as the evening breeze licks through his hair.

And in that moment, JJ can't help but stop and say thank you.

Because JJ Maybank lives every day in paradise.

[hadersversion]

‘tis the damn season.

“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader

warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown

your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.

i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.

somethings never change.

being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.

i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.

"jj?" i ask, confused.

"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.

i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.

my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.

"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.

"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.

"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.

we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.

"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.

"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.

"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.

"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."

"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.

"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."

i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.

almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.

the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.

"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.

"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.

"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.

i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."

we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.

"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.

i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."

they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"

i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"

"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."

"it has." i sigh. "it really has."

we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.

"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.

i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.

"y/n?"

until that moment.

i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.

i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.

i turn around and look at the man.

"rafe."

he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.

we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.

"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.

i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."

he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"

"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.

his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."

the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."

"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.

"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.

"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.

a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.

"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.

i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.

he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"

"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.

i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."

"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.

he stands there quietly, i got him.

"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.

"are you for real?" i ask.

"what? i'm being nice." he says.

i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.

"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.

"away from you." i say, not looking back.

i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."

i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"

he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."

"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.

"you're drunk."

"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"

"y/n." he tries to plead his case.

"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."

he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.

"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.

"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"

"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."

i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.

i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.

once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.

"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."

i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.

no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.

then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.

rafe: hey

i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.

rafe: can we talk?

rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.

rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn

rafe: but i miss you.

rafe: i wanna see you.

i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.

y/n: sure, give me like an hour.

y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.

my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.

i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.

we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.

he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.

"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.

"sure."

"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."

i just nod at him.

"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."

"are you drunk? high?" i ask.

"w-what?"

"are you not sober?" i ask again.

"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"

"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.

"i'm being serious, y/n."

i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"

he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."

"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."

"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.

"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.

he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."

my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"

"every word i said."

my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.

his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.

i needed more.

i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.

he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."

"shut up." i was itching for more.

"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.

"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."

"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."

"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.

"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."

"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.

"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."

"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.

"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"

"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.

"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"

this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.

"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.

with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.

"show off." i say, out of breathe.

i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."

i smirk and shake my head.

he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.

"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.

"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.

"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.

"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.

"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"

"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.

his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.

i felt on fire.

i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.

"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."

"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.

"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.

"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.

"i bet."

i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.

"well, are you clean?" i ask.

"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.

i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.

his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.

i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."

i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."

i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.

with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.

we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.

"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.

"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.

"all the fucking time."

i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.

"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.

"'tis the damn season." he replies.

i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.

"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."

i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.

"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."

i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.

he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."

"rafe." i say.

"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."

i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."

"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.

"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"

"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.

i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."

he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Can I request JJ and Pope being in poly relationship with a female reader? NSFW and SFW pls if you can

AHHH id love to THANK YOU SK FORB THIS

SFW

- they’re very much so in denial at first, and they both are strictly dating you for a little. That is until you finally get them to admit how gay they are for each other.

“Just admit it, you guys are so in love!” You attempted, watching both boys shake their heads but look at each other at the same time.

“Nope.” JJ protested.

“I mean… I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think I really…”

JJ’s eyes snapped up to meet his, quirking an eyebrow. “You’ve thought about it…?”

you’re wearing a smirk and clapping your hands together in victory.

- anyways they are literally the best bfs ever. popes the more calm and romantic one. He’s the one that ends up cleaning your guys messes a lot.

-and JJ is the more chaotic but charming one. It’s a perfect balance.

- days usually start like this…

“JJ, what did I tell you about leaving your clothes on the ground?” Pope groaned, frustrated as he picked up the boys dirty clothes and threw them into a hamper.

“Sorry!” He shouted from the living room, you giggling at the boys.

- anyways dates are a mix of super cute and also chaotic. Like you guys cannot go anywhere without jj saying some dumb shit that makes you both look at him with a “seriously dude?” look.

- but you both love him for it anyways.

- JJ is also the most protective one in the relationship. Doesn’t let anyone say shit about either you or pope. has gotten into multiple fights for it and will continue to do so, Pope is lecturing him and telling him to stop before he gets locked up and your wrapping his wounds. He is more obvious and loud about his affection.

- and Pope is the most secretly affectionate out of the two of you. He showers you both in compliments, most of them discrete.

- JJ is one for pda and pope is not.

“Jesus, stop- stop, both of you.” He shot you both warning glares, watching you both be those couples who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

“Oh, so I have a super hot girlfriend and im supposed to not wanna touch her all the time? That doesn’t make sense.” JJ teased, wrapping an arm around you.

“We are literally outside a McDonald’s.”

- they both scream casual dominance !! specially pope

NSFW

- okok AHHH. pope is much more gentle with sex, he’s the one telling JJ to be slower sometimes, to go easier on you..

- JJ is more fast and fervent when it comes to sex. He practically pounces on you both.

- THREE. WAY. KISSES!! All of you love em and they’re just so so sexy.

- and watching pope and jj kiss? oh my fucking god.

- you all pope always have hickeys. Jj just loves them too much.

- if you’re into anal, JJ loves fucking your ass while Pope has your pussy :3 he calls it his hole, and pope calls him a freak for it.

- speaking of freakiness I think we all know jj wins in that category. He dgaf, he pretty much down for anything and everything.

- also pope has the biggest fucking load ever. when you first fuck you and jj are like 👁️👁️ does it ever stop?

- two words. Eiffel Tower.

- you ask to hold them when their soft. And jj is like why not and pope looks at you both like you’re from another planet.

[dionysianivy]

𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚

What is Lupercalia?

Celebrated on February 13th - February 15th, Lupercalia was an ancient Roman holiday dedicated to the god Faunus, the wild horned spirit of nature, and the legendary founders of Rome, Romulus and Remus. The festival is believed to have far more ancient origins than its association with these mythical figures, likely stemming from earlier fertility rites and purification ceremonies.

The name of the festival, Lupercalia, is derived from the Latin word lupus (wolf), tying it to the legend of the she-wolf who rescued and nursed Romulus and Remus in the cave known as the Lupercal. This cave, located on Palatine Hill, became the heart of the festival’s rituals, emphasizing the protective and nurturing symbolism of wolves.

At its core, Lupercalia celebrated the themes of fertility, purification, and the harmony of nature. It honored two deities: Faunus, the primordial spirit of wild nature and fertility, and Juno Februata, the aspect of Juno associated with purification and the passions of love. The name "February" itself originates from Februare (to cleanse) and Juno Februata, underscoring the month’s ties to this festival.

The festival began with sacrifices of goats, symbolizing fertility, and dogs, representing purification. These sacrifices were followed by ceremonial rituals performed by Faunus’ priests, known as the Luperci. After consuming the sacrificial meat, the Luperci smeared themselves with the blood of the animals and dressed in strips of goatskin, referred to as "Juno’s cloak." They then ran through the streets of the Palatine Hill, carrying whips made from goatskin called februa.

Women who wished to conceive strategically positioned themselves to be struck by the whips, believing this act would enhance fertility, ensure conception, and guarantee safe childbirth. This ritual also served as a broader purification rite for the community, cleansing it in preparation for the coming New Year, which in the Roman calendar began at the vernal equinox.

The nine days of Lupercalia, from February 13th to the 21st, were believed to be a liminal time when the souls of the dead wandered the earth. Offerings of food and drink were left for them, with the living honoring the spirits as part of the festival's traditions.

Over time, the festival's elements shifted and evolved, blending with other traditions. February 14th, now celebrated as Valentine’s Day, originally marked the first day of Lupercalia, dedicated to Juno Februata and Faunus, when women prayed for fertility and blessings.

Lupercalia continued to be celebrated for centuries until it was officially abolished in 495 AD by Pope Gelasius I, who replaced it with a Christian feast day. Now, in modern times, even though Lupercalia is no longer a widely celebrated festival, it is often associated with modern Valentine’s Day or even a celebration of self-love. Today, it’s all about love, fertility, and connection. You can spend the three days of Lupercalia by offering yourself love and understanding, doing things that nurture your self-appreciation, and spending special time with your loved ones.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

Magic Correspondences:

Colors: red, white, pink

Crystals: rose quartz, milky quartz, selenite, moonstone, ruby, garnet, lepidolite, green aventurine, emerald

Deities: Juno, Lupercus, Faunus, Venus, Aphrodite, Pan, Hera, Dionysus, Eros, Mars, Freyja, Cernunnos (deities associated with love, fertility, and abundance)

Animals: dog, goat, wolf, dove, swan, dolphin, ladybug, lovebirds, horse

Flowers: lavender, roses, snowdrops, hyacinths, tulips, orchids

Herbs: cinnamon, basil, jasmine, vanilla

Fruits: figs, cherries, grapes, bananas, strawberries, pomegranate, raspberries, apples

Symbols: phallus, hearts, wolves, whips, goat

Magick: fertility and abundance spells, self-love magick, sex magick, purification

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

Activities to do:

🐺 Take a relaxing long bath, and add some rose essential oil if you like

🐺 Spend time with your dog(s)

🐺 Watch some romance movies

🐺 Treat yourself to things that make you feel good, like lotions, perfume, or new clothes

🐺 Light red, pink, or white candles

🐺 Collect flowers and put them in your altar or room

🐺 Drink goat milk

🐺 Perform love, fertility, and purification spells

🐺 Give flowers to loved ones

🐺 Spend some time in your home, simply being naked because why not?

🐺 Bake heart-shaped cakes

🐺 Support dog shelters with a donation

🐺 Spend time with your lover

🐺 Listen to your favorite music

🐺 Show appreciation for your body

🐺 Take your health medicine

🐺 Decorate your space or altar with heart-shaped objects

🐺 Spend time and meditate in nature

🐺 Eat lots of chocolate

🐺 Practice yoga

🐺 Connect with deities associated with love, fertility, and purification

🐺 Drink some red wine

🐺 Dedicate a day to self-care, doing what feels healthy and good for you

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

Food and Drinks:

Drink red liquids like wine, cranberry or strawberry juice, consume goat dairy, cakes, muffins, chocolate, honey, cherries, champagne, grapes, hazelnuts, cinnamon rolls, cupcakes, any food with meat, apple pie, strawberries.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

sources: Wicca: A Modern Guide To Witchcraft & Magick; Encyclopedia of Witchcraft: The Complete A-Z for the Entire Magical World by Judika Illes

[transrevolutions]

french revolution dashboard simulator

🐀 ami-du-peuple Follow

uh actually man has the right to deal with his oppressors by devouring their beating hearts. hope this helps.

🎩 departicle Follow

Hold up. Okay. Actually, fuck this. This sort of violent rhetoric should not be tolerated on here. Do you seriously think this sort of thing is going to make the nobility give you more rights???? You must be out of your minds! Reported.

🧵 seamstressproud Follow

reblog to devour this guy's beating heart

#username checks out lmao #politics #everybody point and laugh #common adp w

6,178 notes

organt-deactivated06151792

update: new canto out now!!! go check it out 😈😏🥀 (remember don't like don't read <3)

📜 sacredhostreceipts Follow

@centuriesandskies this you?? not such a great look for a convention rep ngl

🌄 centuriesandskies Follow

listen. I wrote this a long time ago, before I went into serious politics. the account is deactivated for a reason.

I was twenty. I did poorly. I can do better.

#sj.txt #if this is the worst dirt you can dig up on me #i'm way less corrupt than half the people in the convention these days #at least i'm not doing fucking. embezzlement. #also sacredhostreceipts if you're who i think you are #don't you have better things to do rn?

231 notes

🌎 landscape-showdown Follow

🌎 landscape-showdown Follow

why the fuck is everyone tagging this with french??? political figures?

#what the hell is going on over there #also maybe cool it with the death threats #I don't want this blog to get taken down #what's a girondin #is this some joke I'm not french enough to understand #showdown update

5,012 notes

⛪ progressivepriest Follow

Unpopular opinion but why is everyone so up in arms about the new Civil Oath? Literally all it's asking is for you to promise not to commit treason just because the Pope tells you to? I can see where people are coming from with the whole violation-of-religion deal, but can you blame the Assembly for trying to make sure the people aren't forcibly subjugated by the wealth of the nobility?

faith-first-alwaysdeactivated03011791

Sounds like something a heretic would say. To betray the Pope and king is to betray the will of God and your eternal soul! You should pray for forgiveness and pledge loyalty to the monarchy or have fun burning in hell. Sorry not sorry.

⛪ progressivepriest Follow

L + ratio + iirc the Bible says "it is easier for a rope to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven" (Matthew 19:24)

🎻 lacarmagn01e Follow

occasional based catholic moment, go off OP!

🌊 sea-of-revolution Follow

looked the faith-first-always guy's blog, he's like a massive anti-huguenot too 🙄 why is it always the prot-exclusive radical catholics smh

🌊 sea-of-revolution Follow

LMAOOOOO HE DEACTIVATED

#religion tag #percs fuck off #anyways op makes a valid point #reblog #percs dni

3,719 notes

🛌 virtuous-bedtime Follow

she committee on my safety til I can't go public

🍊 springtimeofgovernment Follow

I don't understand the joke, can someone explain please?? 🙂 Thank you!

🧵 seamstressproud Follow

is that fucking MAXIMILIEN ROBESPIERRE?!!?!?!?

🛌 virtuous-bedtime Follow

oh my god citizen robespierre I'm so sorry this was not meant to break containment lol I didn't even know you were on this site please forget you saw this

#this is the most embarassing moment of my life #literally sobbing rn #the original post is /j i prommy #i cannot be known as the citizen who had to explain this to the government

19,853 notes

🪓 indulgentsfuckoff Follow

fabre d'eglantine is NOT your poor little meow meow citizens he literally falsified decrees from the national convention and embezzled money to line his own pockets. I don't care how uwu babygirl you think he is he is a CRIMINAL who should be ARRESTED

💛 i-give-people-bread Follow

🥖🍞🥐

#baguette #loaf #croissant #i-give-people-bread #indulgentsfuckoff #silly

2,011 notes

🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow

fucking fed up with the constant threat of the swiss guard, I think it's time we got some gunpowder and weapons and took things into our own hands yknow what I'm saying

🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow

I'm no longer joking about this btw

🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow

update:

hopital

🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow

ok bc I've gotten like 50 asks about this: I am not injured and I am not in need of medical care. the punchline was that we stormed the fucking hotel des invalides to get guns and powder. didn't want to clarify the joke before now for security reasons but everyone knows about that and the bastille thing by now. please direct your money to people who actually need it.

#shouldve clarified the last post was /j #however I assumed yall knew this joke already #anyways #revolution #personal #500 #1k

1,930 notes

🌾 nopain-nograin Follow

got so high at the festivial 2day i thnk i saw hte suapreme being

#robespiere speech was prboably 🔥 #unforntuately i camt rember any of it #grainposting #oipum ehre is somtehing else thes days #memes

8,256 notes

🎨 jldavid-real-moved Follow

incredible speech from @springtimeofgovernment today at the jacobin club. nobody should be permitted to use their positions as civic leaders to commit crimes against the people, even under the guise of revolutionary fervor. if it comes to it, I too will drink the hemlock with him. for france. 🤝🤝

🍊 springtimeofgovernment Follow

Thanks for your support, @jldavid-real

The situation over here is deteriorating really quickly, the representatives are getting violent and abandoning due process entirely. Anything you can do to stand with us now would be very appreciated. You do a lot of great work for the revolution, and I trust you completely.

🍊 springtimeofgovernment Follow

@jldavid-real are you still there? We could really use your help right now.

🌄 centuriesandskies Follow

boosting @springtimeofgovernment here, can confirm he's been injured in a skirmish at the hotel de ville, they're passing summary death sentences without trial, @jldavid-real where is the help you promised us??? the people of paris are our only hope now.

edit: of course he moved blogs. coward.

#sj.txt #disappointed yet unsurprised #marat would be ashamed of you #9 thermidor #update

15,794 notes

🎻 lacarmagn01e Follow

DNI if you support any of these groups/people or their actions: m0narchists, f3uillants, br1ssotins/g1rondins, th3rmidorians, b0napart1sts, h3nri du v3rgier (also goes by c0mte de r0chjacquelin), charl0tte c0rday, or lafay3tte

(h3bertists and dant0nists you're on thin ice. behave.)

#censored so they dont show up in the tags #dni #get your nasty ass ideologies off my page #won't hesitate to block and/or report any violators #pinned

52 notes

gracchus-babeufdeactivated05271797

reblog to make the directoire choke to death on their stupid fucking outfits

🌊 sea-of-revolution Follow

hey staff. yeah you. where did this blog go?? notfishgoujon and prairial-95 are gone as well?? cowards too afraid to show your faces lmao especially after the fucking mess the directoire's made of the country. bet you anything that staff are on their fucking payroll too iykwim at least the republic didn't tolerate fucking bribery

#this site's gone to the dogs since thermidor yr 2 #following the trend of the rest of the country tbh #i'll probably get nuked for posting this #if so i'm not making a new account #i'll just make a paleocities or smth #politics tag #reblog #don't play with me ik full well gb didn't delete his blog of his own free will #they also zero note glitched it #just when you think they can't stoop lower

0 notes

📕 spectrehauntingeurope Follow

it's been 50 fucking years since gracchus-babeuf (and the other CoE blogs) were deleted without warning and still no response from staff, the govt, or anything. the site's gone through a fuckton of ownership changes and still nothing.

we're working on a bit of a project (some of you might know abt it already), it's gonna be out prob in the next year or so. remember '89. remember '93 and '94. remember '97.

the people will rise again. it's only a matter of time. 🚩

-mod karl

[lovelyjj]

Thinking about JJ and a girlfriend who’s a cute nerd like Pope and loves to read. He’s curious about why she loves those books so much and one day he asks her to read one to him. Then suddenly he’s hooked and he’s making little comments along the way like “I can’t believe this! The audacity!” 

jj maybank x bookworm!reader

**the book i used for this is Icebreaker by Hannah Grace**

feel free to send me any thoughts you have :)

It was no secret that you liked to read. You loved to read. Getting lost in a good book was one of your favorite things. Any chance you got you were reading. Now your boyfriend JJ, was curious to what the hype was all about. But he supported you no matter what.

You were at the château reading of course when JJ planted his head in your lap. You stole a glance away from your book and down at JJ who had a goofy grin on his face. You ran some fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp. JJ leaned into your touch.

“Watch’s reading about?” JJ asked.

“Oh the usual adventure magic romance stuff,” you said nonchalantly.

“Can- can you read it to me?” JJ spoke softly.

“I mean yeah sure,” you felt your heart swell that JJ wanted to know more about what you love.

“Do you want me to start at the beginning?” You asked.

“No no just read me where you’re at. I will figure it out,” JJ told you.

“Okay.”

“There is a real chance I could spontaneously burst into flames at any moment. Nate’s voice is barely above a whisper as he suggests testing his theory, but I feel every syllable all over my skin as goose bumps spread down my neck and across my chest. I have been betrayed by my body from the second he put his hands on both sides of my head and leaned in.” You read aloud.

“He’s barely touched me and yet I’m ready to melt into a puddle at his feet. I don’t know whether it’s the proximity, the sheer adrenaline, or the tequila, but every rational thought disappears, and I crush my mouth against his.” You continue.

“Oh my god,” JJ gasped. “This is so exciting!”

“Keep going,” JJ urged.

“He wastes no time sinking his hand into the hair at the nape of my neck, gripping tightly. His free hand slips around my body and palms my ass, making me moan into his mouth.

Nate is everywhere at once; all I can do is hold onto him and take it, and when his mouth travels down my neck, sucking and nipping, I’m practically panting.”

“I didn’t think this would happen when I followed him up here, I swear. He just looks so good in his tux and watching him nervously check the party is going well all night has been sort of endearing. And he’s hot as fuck, have I said that before? All dark hair, dark eyes, and muscles upon muscles, upon muscles.

He sinks to his knees in front of me, tugging at his bow tie and undoing the top button of his shirt. With messy hair from where I’ve held onto it and flushed cheeks, he looks up at me. His hands run from my ankle to my knee, then back down again, and yep, still close to melting territory. “You sure?”

“Do you have a pen and paper for me to draw you a map?”

I’m making jokes. Why am I making jokes? Why do I find how unimpressed with me he looks right now so funny? And hot?

“I don’t joke about consent, Anastasia,” he says softly, leaning forward to kiss the inside of my knee.”

“That’s funny cause that’s something I would say,” JJ chuckled.

“I’m sure.” I don’t know why I’m sure. I’m sure I shouldn’t be sure. I shouldn’t like how he looks hooking my leg over his shoulder. I’m definitely sure I shouldn’t be enjoying his tongue running up the inside of my thigh. 

He pulls the material of the dress to the side, and when I put on this dress earlier, this is not how I saw the evening turning out. I hear a groan of approval when his mouth gets closer to the apex of my thighs, and he realizes I’m not wearing any panties.”

“This story is wild, no wonder you like to read,” JJ smirked.

“How about we go recreate this scene?”

[eccentricwritingbaby]

arm candy

lando norris x reader

summary - enemies to lovers as the two embark on a pr relationship. reader is heavily based on cristina yang and olivia pope - intelligent and knows her worth. lando treats her as just a piece of ass on his arm. the two need to keep up appearances, yet always have time to find a fight. 

masterlist

-

“i’m sorry,” you can’t help but laugh into the conference room, “you want me to what?” your father just sighs across from you in his seat, already knowing his head strong daughter would make a fuss over this. 

“y/n…” he starts, but you shoot him a look to stop, quickly. 

“i’m sorry, are you my pimp or my father?” you ask with a mocking behavior. 

“stop, y/n,” he grits out, “stop it,”

“fine,” you shrug, rolling your eyes. 

the room was filled with five people. your father, you, adam norris, lando norris, and some mean little woman who came in meaning business and barking orders. you respected her. 

your dad and lando’s dad had been business associates for a long time, never close friends, but acquaintances nonetheless. you had never met lando before, but had definitely heard about his escapades. 

“listen,” the woman starts again, “lando needs someone normal and successful on his arm, not anymore models or influencers that last only a day and alter his image, his image needs to be clean, squeaky clean,”

“oh my god,” you laugh out in disbelief, “i can’t believe i went to an ivy university just to be someone’s high end hooker-”

“Y/N!” you dad stands from his chair, “that’s enough out of you,”

“dad, this is ridiculous-”

“no its not, it’s business,” he stands firmly on his ground, “it’s four months of fake fucking dating just suck it up and do it,”

“fine,” you mumble out, “but only for you,”

your dad takes his seat again, grumbling out a few apologies to lando and his father along with the woman. they all just nod their head as she moves along with certain details. you finally look up from where you were fiddling with your fingers, making eye contact with your new ‘boyfriend’. he sends you a quiet look of reassurance, most likely that he didn’t want to be there either. you both give each other a smile, and your mind hopes that this might be okay. 

-

“so,” lando starts, attempting to break the tension on your first fake date.

“so,” you laugh, “how are you?”

“i think we can skip the pleasantries, y/n,” he chuckles, “we’ve technically been dating for four months?”

“oh right,” you continue to play along, “met you one week ago, but we’re madly in love,”

lando chuckles into his drink before the waiter comes over to get you started. once ordered, lando glances up at you, and you can’t help but find the small twinkle in his eye adorable. and then he speaks.

“you look like someone who i would go out with, without your personality, though”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you question in offense.

“i mean usually my type is-”

“girls with half a brain?” you attempt to finish for him, but he just sharpens his gaze in your direction, eyebrows furrowing at your accusation.

“no,” he denies, “just girls who are a bit quieter,”

“so, pushovers?”

“not exactly,”

“you just want a little hot minion to control?”

“no,” he tries again, attempting to find the right words, “someone who isn’t rude,”

“oh you think i’m rude?”

“did you hear yourself in the meeting? talking to your dad like that? acting like the smartest person in the room-”

“i was the smartest person in that room,” you bite back to him, “and i’m sorry i didn’t enjoy the action of being pimped out, it’s offensive to my degrees and accomplishments-”

“you aren’t being pimped out, it’s a favor-”

“oh,” you scoff, “a favor?”

“yes, a favor, you probably aren’t used to hearing that word because you’re so self-centered,” he pushes.

“and here’s two words you do probably hear often, fuck off,”

“the rest of this dinner will be in silence,” lando directs to you, the waiter now coming over with your food. 

“finally, something we can agree on,”

-

you and lando had now been fake dating for two months. you came and went from his races, he was here and there at events in your honor, you both were successfully fulfilling your duties. the public was eating it up, excited that lando was in his ‘boyfriend era’. you both in reality were still finding each other difficult. lando found you to be pretentious and rude, you found lando to be a spoiled dick. but that was all pushed aside when it came to being in public. 

you heard the knuckles wrap on your door, and you attempt to brush the tears from your eyes swiftly. shit. you had lost track of time while on the phone with your mom, well, arguing with your mom. you forgot that lando was meeting you at your apartment soon to take a pre scheduled outing. getting up after hearing the knock once more, you make your way to open the door. 

“hey,” he grunts out, before he looks at your reddened eyes, “what’s wrong?” his tone softens with the question. 

“nothing,” you brush off, “let me just redo my makeup and i’ll be ready to go,”

“wait, y/n,” lando stops you from leaving the room, “talk to me, what’s going on?”

“you don’t want to hear about this, lan,” he catches himself smiling at the nickname that slipped off your tongue. 

“i have a heart, y’know,” he jokes quietly to you, bringing his hand up to give you a slight poke in the ribs. 

“no, really?” you ask sarcastically.

“yes, now talk to me,” he laughs to you, still trying to break you out of your shell. 

“it’s just the divorce,” you shake your head, “my parents have made me their middle man since they’ve been separated, and now i have to be my sibling's therapist too,” you choke up, trying to swallow back your tears. 

“i’m sorry, y/n,” lando moves forward, beginning to wrap his arms around you. 

“i’ve just gotta be there for everyone,” you sigh, “it’s been like that since i was a kid, i’ll be fine,”

“well,” lando starts, “i can be there for you,”

“like hell,” you laugh off, starting your trek to the bathroom.

“i’m serious,” lando pushes, “i know we’re at each other's throats, but if you need anything, you can talk to me,”

“thanks,” you squeak out, “you’re not so bad, norris,”

“why thank you, y/l/n. you’re not so bad yourself,”

-

it was race day, and you were actually excited. you and lando had a breakthrough the night he caught you crying. you both finally broke down the wall that divided and protected your hearts. you were feeling better about spending the next few months with him, it was going to be a relief to actually enjoy it. 

“are you ready, y/n?” lando calls out from the other room. 

“yeah!” you shout back, sliding your left foot into your final shoe. lando steps out of the room, dripped head to toe in papaya, bag slung lightly over his shoulder. 

“you look great,” he lets go of the compliment and you find yourself blushing, choosing to stare down at your feet instead of making eye contact. lando holds his hand you and you grasp it eagerly, readying yourselves for the show about to be put on. or was it a show?

once at the track, your hands finally separate as he heads to the garage and you move towards where his father was standing. 

“hey, mr. norris,” you greet with a smile at the older gentleman.

“please, y/n. how many times do i have to tell you to call me adam?” he chuckles with you. 

“i’m sorry, it’s just too unnatural for me,”

“well please, try,” you continue with your laughs, “mr. norris is my father,”

“alright,” you giggle, cringing a bit before squeaking out, “adam,”

“there we go!” you both joke around a bit more before a certain curly-haired mclaren driver is jogging over to you both.

“hey, dad,” he greets adam with a quick pat to his shoulder, “can i steal her for a second?” adam nods, giving you both some space as lando starts dragging you over to a quieter area.

“what’s up, lan?” you ask him, a bit of concern in your voice since you were unsure of what was going on. 

“i need to talk to you,” he sighs out, eyes holding an emotion you couldn’t put a finger on.

“what’s going on? are you okay?”

“yeah, yeah,” he shakes off, now grabbing your hands in his, “i just- i just-”

“LANDO!” his engineer calls from the garage behind him, “WE NEED YOU IN THE CAR!”

“TWO SECONDS!” he yells back over his shoulder, now turning back to face you, “listen, i really like you,”

“oh,” your eyes widen in surprise but lando just keeps rambling. 

“and not in this fake, bullshit way. i want to really take you out even if you drive me crazy sometimes,”

“lando-” you try to cut him off, but he just keeps going. 

“i can’t handle your rejection before i race so, if you’re by the gate after i finish, i’ll take it as you feel the same way,” taking a deep breath after his confession, lando leans in, kissing you roughly before pulling away and running back to the garage. you stand there for a moment, trying to process what had happened before a smile breaks out across your face. 

lando came in fourth. you cheered and cried, jumped up and down with his family and friends, and then you took off. you started your sprint to the gate, ready to meet him and finally bask in your own happiness. ready to choose yourself for once. 

you rush towards the wall just as lando is climbing out of his car. his head whips around to the barrier, searching for your face. once spotted, he breaks out in a similar sprint as you did, rushing towards you for a hug. you breathe in the moment, you and lando holding each other, for real this time, finally. 

-

you both were a giggly mess as you made your way back to the hotel room. 

“you’re coming out tonight, right?” he asks, arms not leaving your waist since you had left the paddock. 

“yeah, i’m coming,” you reply, brushing your hands up and down his arms that were wrapped around your middle. 

“okay, good,” his forehead meets yours, relishing in the feeling of you being in his arms, in private, “so my room or yours tonight?” he asks in a joking tone, referring to the two bedroom suite you were in. 

“mine,” you laugh quietly, “it smells better,” you poke him in the stomach a bit and he just chuckles with you. 

“you don’t like the smell of my race gear, love?” 

“no thank you, sir,”

“alright, well go get ready, and we’ll head out in about an hour?” lando shoo’s you to your room, patting your bum as you turn around, causing you to blush as you exit. 

later, at the club, you’re seated in the vip area with some of the drivers and a few friends. lando’s arm has been wrapped around your shoulder or waist all night, the tension between you two turning slowly from annoyance to lust. kisses stolen when they can be, waist being squeezed, and overall eye contact has made you a puddle in lando’s hands. you were falling for him, deeply. and you could tell he was too. until. he spoke. 

“that’s a nice lady you’ve got on your arm there, lando,” one of the guys in the section shouts to your boyfriend. 

“thanks, mate,” he shouts back, pulling you closer into his side. the man approaches the both of you, beginning to chat to lando about his race earlier. your mind quietly drifts out of the conversation, before you’re pulled back in as the man, now learning his name to be jack, introduces you to his girlfriend. the both of them were very fitting for each other, eyes wide open with nothing going on behind them. 

you strike up a conversation with the woman in front you about her shoes, before glance over and finding your boyfriend eyeing her up and down with ease. he catches your eyes and looks away, his arm pulling you in even closer than before. you just scoff in his direction and begin to get up from your seating. lando lets out a quick apology to the couple in front of you before chasing after you out of the vip section.

“y/n! wait! where are you going?” he shouts over the music and into your ear.

“i’m leaving,” you grunt out, continuing pushing past people in your pursuit for the exit. 

“why?”

“oh please,” you let out a laugh, finally reaching your destination and swiftly leaving the building. now in a quieter atmosphere, lando drops his voice and grabs you, forcing you to look at him, “i saw you looking, lando,”

“what? at the girl with jack?”

“yeah, i saw you checking her out,” your face hardens, morphing into the one you sported the first two months of getting to know lando. the one you had on when you didn’t like him, scaring the man in front of you as he watches, “i thought you were different, but i guess then again, people never change-”

“stop, y/n,” lando sternly speaks, “i am different, i like you. not her,”

“funny way of showing it,” you laugh, “i mean the both of them couldn’t even handle an intelligent conversation if they tried,”

“it always comes back to this with you doesn’t it?” he asks, now pushing you towards his car and retrieving his keys. 

“what does that mean?”

“you always have to be the smartest, huh?”

“that’s not what that is,” you shake him off, the both of you now entering his car before you continue, “it’s just embarrassing that you would prefer beauty over brains,”

“i don’t do that,” he whips his head around to face you, “i just appreciate attractive women, are you saying smart women can’t also be attractive?”

“don’t twist my words,” you shoot back, “just drive the damn car,”

-

“i cannot stand you when you’re like this,” lando grunts out as you arrive back into your hotel room. 

“like what?” you push back, moving to place your hands on your hips in defiance, ready for the fight about to unfold. 

“a-an arrogant, selfish, cocky-” he starts to stutter out his list, but you promptly cut him off. 

“it sounds like you’re describing yourself there,”

“no, that’s all you,”

“oh really?” you taunt, your eyes boring into his with fire, “says the guy who has only one race win under his belt but acts like he’s big shit-”

“SHUT UP!” he screams out at you, but you only push him further. 

“you want to call me arrogant, baby, we both are. it’s the only fucking thing we have in common,” you mockingly laugh in his direction, his head now fuming.

“you’re so-”

“right? correct? because i am. we both are arrogant and confident however the hell you want to spin it, who the fuck says that’s a bad thing?” you ask him as his eyes start to soften, “and i am not arrogant. i’m good at what i do, that is a simple fact,” you huff, catching your breath after your anger begins to cool. 

“you are right,” he sighs, “i guess we’re so alike that we didn’t even notice,”

“i am not like you,” you shake your head.

“and why would that be such a bad thing? you met me at the gate, remember?”

“because i am not some womanizer who just uses girls, not taking one glance at anything but their tits,” you snap at him. 

“i didn’t use you, and you know i think you’re beautiful, y/n,” lando attempts to calm the situation, but it only riles you up further.

“oh fuck that,” you spit out, lando taking a step back from you in surprise at your reaction, “fuck beautiful, if you want to compliment me,” you sneer in his direction, bringing up a finger to point in his face, “compliment my brain,” with your final say, you turn quickly on your heel in order to walk out the door. 

“y/n!” lando shouts, “stop,” he jogs over to you, grabbing your arm and moving your body to face him, “listen, i’m sorry,” he sighs, his free hand not wrapped around your arm running down his face, “i know you’re pretty good at what you do,”

“pretty good?” you scoff, “i’m great,”

“i’m trying to apologize here,”

“then apologize, correctly,” you emphasize, sharpening your gaze at him, “and don’t be sorry, be better,”

“that’s what i’m trying to say,” lando pleads, “i’m trying to tell you that i will be better,” 

“don’t tell me, show me,” you push, “i’m not your little play thing, lando. i’m not one of your little side hoes with no brain and just eyes for your money,” he scoffs at your vulgar words, but let’s you continue, “i have my own money and my own brain. i am not a body and face to just show up on your arm, you want me like you say you want me?” you rhetorically ask him, inching your face closer to his, “you have to earn me,”

“i will earn you, y/n. i want to earn you,”

“acting like this won’t get you there. i deserve better,”

“i will be better,” now with your faces inches apart, trading breath from each other’s mouths, you and lando finally quiet your everlasting argument, “let me show you, please,”

“i don’t know you, i don’t know if you’ll just say this and then go back to being a dick when you get bored,” you release your insecurities to him, his eyes softening at your vulnerability - something you rarely let out. 

“do you know who anyone really is?” he asks you, voice now quiet and gentle as his hand that was gripping your arm now begins to softly stroke it, “that’s the beauty of life, y/n,”

“getting hurt?”

“no,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “the unknown,”

“i don’t like not knowing,” you sigh, your soft side now coming out fully.

“i know,” he breathes out, “you’ve always had your entire life planned for you, y/n. it’s time you just relax, and have the ability to be surprised,”

“but what if i do get hurt?”

“with me around?” he chuckles, moving a centimeter away from your face, “that won’t happen,” he gives your forehead a light peck, “and if it does,” now a peck on your nose, “i’ll be around to help you,” and finally your lips. you give a hum of appreciation to his lips, basking in the warmth they gave you. finally separating in order to catch your breath, your foreheads rest together, eyes never leaving the others, “you don’t have to be alone anymore, y/n. you don’t have to do it all by yourself,”

“thank you,” you sigh, tears beginning to form in your waterline, “for everything,”

“no, thank you,” he replies back quickly, “for bringing me back down to earth,”

“i’ll always be around to humble you,” you giggle in his arms as he laughs with you.

“and i, you,”

-

a/n - this is not proofread so i'm so sorry if its a rambling mess, i just had the idea and wanted to write it up before i lost it

[sturnalsm]

𝗧𝗢𝗨𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗘 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗡𝗘𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢

(M.S)

summary: you and Matt dont like eachother, you hang all the time, only because of his brothers tho. Chris and Nick went out to pick Chris's girlfriend and left you and Matt alone. you are in the living room on your phones and Matt completely ignores you

!! WARNINGS !! : make out, smut, choking, biting, pet names, swearing

it was like 11pm or something, you didnt even knew the time, Chris and Nick went to pick uo Chris's girlfriend for god knows what reason why, its not like you hated her but you didnt liked her either, she was annoying you, nothing more, nothing less. but the worst part is that they left you and Matt alone. right now you were doing nothing but sitting on the couch in the living room on your phones.

Matt was literally ignoring you, 10 minutes ago you asked him if he can give you his charger, silence. he just kept scrolling on tik tok do you got up and got it. not a big deal tho. you were scrolling on tik tok as well when an edit of him pops up, but you didnt scrolled and you kept watching it and watching it when.. "what is that video that you're staying on for the past 5 minutes can you fucking scroll or something, its pissing me off" Matt finally spoke complaining about the video, he didnt knew it was an edit of him..

"what are you watching anyway? let me see" and thats when you didnt knew what to say so you immediately scrolled down. "oh uh i' nothing.." he looks at your and grabs your phone scrolling to the upper video. "is that me?!" he says in shock "MATT GIVE ME MY PHONE C'M ONNNN" he laughs as he holds your phone oht of reach "why are you watching edits of me huh" "it just poped up, please give me my phone Matthew" he kept your phone still out of reach speaking again "you like me or sum'?" he asked with a smirk "ME?! LIKE YOU?" you say like its not obvious.. "are you sure about that, sweetheart?" "100%" you say as you start blushing. He takes a seat next to you, your thighs touching each other. He leans closer to you, his breath warm on your ear "You're a bad liar, you know that?" "im not lying now give me my phone" He doesn’t move, his body remaining close to yours, the proximity between you increasing "You’ll just go back to watching edits of me, right?" you roll your eyes at his words. "dont act like you dont watch my Instagram posts all day, tough guy" He rolls his eyes at your comment, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks "You’re one to talk, you never stop thinking about me." awhhh is someone blushing" you say jokingly making him a little mad. He rolls his eyes again, his cheeks still a bit red "Stop talking, I swear to god" you look him in the eyes "or what?" he moves closer to you, his body practically pressing against yours "Or I'll make you stop talking" you smirk at his comment he grins mischievously, placing his hands on your waist, pulling you even closer to him "I have my ways." you smirk at him "show me then"

he suddenly lifts you up, placing you in his lap, completely straddling him. His hands move to the small of your back as he gazes at you "Now you're trapped." you instantly blush "too bad" he smirks"You say that as if you don’t secretly like it." he laughs, one of his hands tracing circles on the skin of your waist, just underneath the edge of your shirt "Don’t lie to me. We both know you love being this close to me." "who said that i love it?" you keep teasing him he rolls his eyes again, growing more and more impatient. His hand on your hip is gripping tighter, his fingers pressing into your skin "You’re a terrible liar. Your body language gives you away. You're enjoying this just as much as I am." "mm...no im not" you love teasing him, you know he is going insane by it and you're here for it. he moves his face closer to yours, his breath warm on your ear again "So if I started kissing your neck right now, you wouldn’t like it at all?" "oh fuck.." you said to your self. he chuckles, his lips grazing against your neck. he places a soft kiss just below your ear, his tongue tracing a slow, torturous trail down to your collarbone “You were saying something?” "shut up.." he lets out a low chuckle, his lips still on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses across your skin "Why should I? I like hearing the cute little noises you make." you bite your lip at the feeling of his lips on your neck which drove you crazy and you wanted more.."Matt.." she moans

he grins against your neck, his lips moving lower towards your collarbone, leaving marks as he goes "Hearing you moan my name is such a turn on, you know that?" "oh look who's turned on" he pulls back for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, a slight smirk on his lips* "Yes, I am. Your little moans are driving me crazy." you smirk "stop teasing me then" you take a deep breath "please.." he chuckles, his hands gripping your thighs a little tighter "Please what? Use your words, darling." "please matt i want you so bad.." he laughs softly, a sense of satisfaction in his voice "Beg for me? You really are desperate for me, aren’t you? Tell me you need me, darling. Say it and I’ll give you whatever you want." "i need you so bad.." he moans softly, pulling you even closer to him, your bodies pressed together, so close there’s only centimeters of space between you, he looks at you for a few seconds befire grabbing you by the waist and slamming his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. Matt immediately deepens the kiss, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into the skin. he grabs your neck as he starts kissing you once again his tounge sliding into your mouth exploring every inch of it.

she slowly starts moving her hips on his lap. he moans against your lips, his hands moving from your thighs to your hips, holding you even closer to him. He can feel you moving against his lap, the sensation driving him wild* "Mm, you’re teasing me again, aren’t you? You know what that does to me?" "hm, i dont know, what does it do to you baby" he moans as you call him baby, he pulls back slightly, his lips hovering against yours "Seeing you move against me like this? It makes me want to do so many things to you." you smirk at him, you know exactlywhat youre doing and you love the way he loses control "what things? he looks at you "Mmm, I could show you..." he moves his lips to your ear, his teeth gently tugging on your lobe "You sure you want me to show you? Once I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself." "dont stop." you say as you look him in the eyes. "you think you can take me huh?" he slowly slides his hands under your skirt sliding his hands slowly to the inside of your thighs "please dont tease me Matt.." you roll your head back moaning quietly. he looks at you with a smirk sliding one of his hands under your panties doing circles on your clit. "fuck.." you moan. he looks at your as he slowly pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to moan even louder. he starts moving his fingers faster. before you could think he puts a second finger stretching you out. "matt ohmygod.." he smirks "if you cznt take my fingers how are you going to take my cock whore?" his fingers going deeper you hitting that one spot which made you go wild. "matt i nee- *moans* i need your cock please" you get the sentence out of your mouth in one go. "so needy huh?" he looks up at you still with his fingers in you going faster and faster. he stops and gets them out of you "open your mouth" you obey as he puts his fingers in your mouth "suck, doll" you start sucking his fingers. "youre going to listen to me and youre going to listen to me good." he gets his fingers out of your mouth grabbing your waist and making you stand infront of him as he gets up as well. "on all fours doll"

you go down infront of him on your knees and hands. he starts unbuttoning his jeans taking them off as well as his boxers till his knees. "suck." you look up at him and get his cock in your hands stroking him a few times before taking him into your mouth "oh fuck.." he sahs as his breat hitches. "kee..keep going" you starts sucking him faster making him go wild. "shit..im going to cum.." as you hear those words you go faster again knowing how good you make him feel. soon he cums in your mouth making you shallow every drop. "good girl, you can get up now." you get up, he grabs your hand and pushes you against the wall facing him. he starts taking off you tshirt, your pants then your panties leaving you completely naked. he looks at you "turn around baby" you obey again. "now tell me..do you want my cock inside you huh?" he says, his breath on your ear, his hands on your waist.. "matt please..fuck me already you're teasing me too much please i need it bad.." he smirks at your response spanking your ass before slamming aggressively into you. "MATTHEW" you scream his name making him go crazy. he doesn't say anything he just goes deeper and faster inside of you, your eyes bluring with every thrust. he grabbed you waist "bend over" you put your hands on the wall and bend over for him. "fuck yes.." he starts going even faster than before making you scream and moan his name. he puts his hands on your neck choking you.

you were going insane, his cock felt so good inside of you. you were going literally insane from every thrust. he knew what he was doing and he knew you loved it. "you are..so thigh.." he puts his both hands on your back making you bend over ven harder, causing you to moan. "im..g- goin to c..cum Matt..fuck" he puts his hands on your hips now "go ahead baby" your legs start shaking you barley can stand on them. after a few seconds you make a mess on his cock. your cum going down by your thighs and on the floor.. "you're such a good girl ma'." he says grabbing your waist and turning you around. he kisses your lips picking you up, you wrapping your legs around his waist. he puts you on the sofa gently going down to your neck leaving red marks, he sucks and botes onto your neck causing you to moan. "you're a moaning mess" he looks up at you. "lets clean you up sweetheart "....

HELLOQOOAOAKAJSJQOWK SORRY FOR THE SHORT STORY I DIDNT HAD MUCH IDEAS BUT STILLLWIDI HOPE YOU LIKE IT

[tinylilacbun]

even after jj gets caught by the mercenaries the only thing he worries about is his baby...୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

This was not what JJ had planned. To be caught, by the same guys that tried to off him and Kie when they got that amulet, because of Groff was the last thing he had on his agenda after his crash out.

Now, after being shoved into an engine room he paces back and forth, stopping to point a finger at Groff with a glare on his face. "Listen, I don't care what you got going on with those guys but I have to go back home, a'ight? You may not give a fuck about me, I can live with that, but I got a kid that that's expecting me to tuck her into bed later."

There's a beat of silence as Groff sits down on top of the metal steps, his hands intertwined together, seemingly shocked at this new information. "You got a kid?"

JJ sighs, leaning against the railing with his back facing Groff and crossing his arms. "Yeah...she's- god, she's the best thing that ever happened to me, actually. I mean, I did a lot of fucked up things. But she's the only thing I never regret in my life."

Groff nods with a smile that's everything but genuine which the blonde didn't notice at the moment. "What's her name?"

JJ says your name with adoration, smirking to himself as he can only think about how much of a fuss you're probably giving the others right now.

"She just turned three. A hyperactive little rascal, something she got from me apparently, at least that's what everyone says." He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck.

That describes it lightly.

You're basically a mini version of him, the same crazy locks, a dimple that is always seen on your chubby cheek, the mischievous and adventurous behavior.

Everything about you screams that you are JJ's kid, and you you can be sure that he's more than proud of that.

"Guess there's never a boring day then." Groff chuckles, trying to get on JJ's good side by doing small talk.

"You wouldn't know it." JJ remarks, turning his head to face him. "Since you gave me away to a drug addicted alcoholic before I could even crawl but who am I to care. I got someone worth fighting for and waiting for me to come home right now."

He adverts his eyes from him again, running a hand through his messy hair with a heavy sigh.

"She's a good kid...always polite and helping whenever she can even though she's still so small, probably thanks to Kie's and Pope's influence." He chuckles lightly, looking down at the matching bracelet that's designed in a mix of yours and his favorite colors that Sarah made for you and him a while back.

Groff stays uncharacteristically silent, taking in how JJ talks about you as if you're the most important thing on earth, which you are, to him at least or all the other pogues that watched you grow up.

"Just know, that if you pull any shit with me, I swear I won't hesitate to kill you before those mercenaries can." JJ suddenly threatens him, not planning on growing any kind of bond with the man who couldn't give a damn about him when he was just a baby.

The only thing that matters to him is you, his baby.

[mariacallous]

God works in mysterious ways. Take U.S. President Donald Trump. He claims that he survived an assassination attempt last July thanks to divine intervention. “I was saved by God to make America great again,” Trump said in an inaugural address. His belief is shared by many Christian leaders.

In their ranks, however, you won’t find the most influential of them all: the vicar of Christ. Pope Francis clearly doesn’t think that Trump has been anointed by God and is more likely to be praying for his failure than his success.

The day before Trump took office, Francis denounced the president’s plan for the mass deportations of undocumented immigrants while appearing on an Italian talk show. “If it is true, it will be a disgrace because it makes the poor wretches who have nothing pay the bill for the imbalance,” the pope declared. “It won’t do. This is not the way to solve things.”

That wasn’t a one-off jab from the Vatican. The pope has a history of opposing the U.S. leader. Back in 2016, when Trump was just a Republican candidate promising to build a wall between Mexico and the United States, Francis said, “A person who thinks only about building walls, wherever they may be, and not building bridges, is not Christian.” Throughout Trump’s first term, he spoke out against what he saw as the president’s dangerous excesses, from spurning climate action to stoking fear in American society.

Now, nearly a decade later, the pope is back at it. “I think Francis is heading back into battle with Trump whether he wants to or not,” said Philip Shenon, a former New York Times investigative reporter and the author of Jesus Wept, a new book on the modern Catholic Church.

Francis doesn’t appear gleeful about the prospect of another crusade against Trump. “The pope is reluctant to do it, given how ugly the confrontation became in Trump’s first term,” Shenon said.

At 88, Francis is in bad shape for a grueling fight. He has weak lungs and falls ill often. Just a few days ago, he couldn’t speak at his weekly audience on account of a nasty cold. “He may worry, understandably, that he doesn’t have the energy for another go-round with Trump,” Shenon said. “But Francis doesn’t have a choice, I think, especially given the imminent prospect of mass deportations.”

For the Vatican, however, the initial casus belli wasn’t the United States’ mass deportation scheme but a provocation from Trump last December. The president appointed his close ally Brian Burch, president and co-founder of the conservative advocacy organization CatholicVote, as the U.S ambassador to the Holy See.

Burch, like many far-right Catholics in the United States, is a fierce critic of Francis. He has accused the pope of “progressive Catholic cheerleading” and castigated him for creating “massive confusion” by allowing priests to bless same-sex couples. He has also lent his support to Francis’s enemies in the church, including Carlo Maria Viganò, a traditionalist archbishop who was excommunicated in 2024.

This has all been in service of a radical political project. Burch was instrumental in fueling the rise of a conservative Catholic movement aligned with Trump—call it the church of Trump. Membership includes Vice President J.D. Vance, a Catholic convert, as well as other high-profile members of the new administration such as border czar Tom Homan and White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt.

Although U.S. conservative Catholics like to flaunt their faith, they have little respect for Francis. “They have long cast him as an enemy, a champion of liberal values they deem anathema to traditional Church doctrine,” said David Kertzer, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The Pope and Mussolini and The Pope at War. “And from what I can tell, it is U.S. wealthy Catholics who are the world’s primary funders of anti-Francis Church activities.” To top it all, Trump sent one of them to be his man in Vatican City.

As payback for the Burch appointment, Francis made a shock appointment of his own—naming Cardinal Robert McElroy as the new archbishop of Washington, D.C. A dedicated supporter of migrants, McElroy is among the most vocal anti-Trump clerics in the United States. He wasn’t the pope’s first choice, but circumstances changed his mind. “Last fall, word in the Vatican was that Francis had settled on a far less confrontational choice for the D.C. job,” Shenon said.

Confrontation now looks inevitable. Unsurprisingly, the first two weeks of Trump’s return to power have already given way to a war of words between the church and the White House.

On Jan. 20 and 21, the president signed a raft of executive orders cracking down on immigration. Two measures concerned the church directly: the suspension of refugee resettlement programs, which the church has long participated in, and the lifting of restrictions on U.S. immigration agents entering places of worship to round up undocumented immigrants.

The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops immediately issued a statement in condemnation. Bishop Mark J. Seitz, who chairs the conference’s Committee on Migration, spoke to CBS News and sounded the alarm on the new administration’s immigration policies. He argued they went “against some of the basic tenets of our faith, frankly, the fundamental right of every human person that needs to be respected, no matter their origin, no matter their situation.” Seitz added that Francis “certainly is paying attention.”

The Trump administration didn’t turn the other cheek. Homan, who oversees deportations, struck a defiant tone in an interview for Newsmax, declaring that Francis “ought to stick to the Catholic Church and fix that because that’s a mess.” Vance, meanwhile, took aim at the bishops, accusing them of cupidity since the church receives money from the U.S. government under its refugee admission program. “The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops needs to actually look in the mirror a little bit and recognize that when they receive over $100 million to help resettle illegal immigrants, are they worried about humanitarian concerns? Or are they actually worried about their bottom line?” Vance said to CBS News.

Vance’s remarks rocked the church. Even Cardinal Timothy Dolan, who is close to Trump and led a prayer at his inauguration, was incensed. “That’s just scurrilous. It’s very nasty, and it’s not true,” he said in rebuke to Vance on his weekly radio show. “You think we make money caring for the immigrants? We’re losing it hand over fist.” Dolan later expressed his solidarity with migrants in a video posted on the Good Newsroom. “The church I love should not be blasted for simply obeying the Bible and caring for those immigrants who came here through this clumsy, fractured system.”

In recent days, the Trump administration has made another move that affects the church: drastically slashing the foreign aid administered by the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID). As a result, Catholic Relief Services, an international humanitarian organization, stands to lose up to $750 million in grants from USAID, according to the National Catholic Reporter. Michael Czerny, a cardinal close to Francis, has condemned Trump’s USAID cuts, saying that millions will die as a result.

Francis has not directly commented yet, but relations between the White House and the Vatican are likely to worsen fast. The Trump administration shows no signs of contrition, but it should beware. The Catholic Church has a history of coming out on top against the merciless. During the second half of the Cold War, for instance, it supported the Solidarity movement in communist Poland, eventually leading to the fall of the regime in 1989. Three years earlier, in the Philippines, the church was instrumental in the People Power Revolution that toppled the brutal dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos.

An ailing Francis might look like an easy target. But, unlike other heads of state, Trump can’t browbeat him. The reason is simple: The president has no leverage on the pope. He can’t slap tariffs on Vatican City, nor can he threaten to annex it and turn St. Peter’s Basilica into a hotel.

As he nears the end of his life, Francis is focused on shoring up his legacy. He just released his autobiography and is still determined to make his voice heard about the world. He won’t stand attacks from the MAGA movement, and neither will the Catholic Church.

Ultimately, therein lies the cardinal sin in the Trump administration’s reckless attitude toward the Vatican. They are turning their feud with the pope into something bigger: a feud with the church itself.

Francis might not be pope for long. And while U.S. conservative Catholics are hoping that they can influence the outcome of the next conclave, this is dubious. Francis has transformed the College of Cardinals. Nearly 80 percent of those who will elect the next pope were appointed by him. Many come from the global south and are in broad agreement with him. As such, Francis’s successor is likely to look unfavorably on Trump and Vance—all the more so if the church finally picks an African pope, who would put Africa’s economic development at the heart of their agenda. Cutting foreign aid and disparaging the vital work of charities around the world won’t be something that the next pope would forgive easily.

MAGA’s antics against the Vatican may well come back to haunt them. They think in soundbites. The Catholic Church, as the phrase goes, thinks in centuries.

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;

word count: 7.9k...

part i; part ii; part iv

Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin.

With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.

You learned early on to rely only on yourself.

While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages.

You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into that situation.

You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible.

It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group.

Kie, Pope, John B…weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a weird balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.

At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence.

You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in your life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the fucking chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.

Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst.

It was a burden you bore proudly, protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity.

While others your age worried about stupid matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without. 

You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending beating in his eyes.

You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream.

You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it. 

He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going.”

You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”

Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, you knew that. His expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.

"It's for your own good," his tone was condescending, like you were a child, “You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”

Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.

"It’s my life on the line too. And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”

His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains in your room, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”

"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”

“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.

“This isn’t a game,” he said, clearly growing frustrated with your stubbornness, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair. 

“They chew up people like you.”

 “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

He knew that.

And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty. 

“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”

You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”

He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”

You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait."

You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.

"What now?"

His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”

"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.

"Change of plans."

Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing in the small space. 

"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, “Let me out! You can't do this!"

His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”

"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no clipped answer from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing.

He was gone, the stupid bastard.

You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.

In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different.

Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning. 

You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, the frame sturdy.

That’s it! 

You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.

And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.

It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances.

Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was strong enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building. 

You gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building.

Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel. 

You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations or politeness.

"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, “It’s important.”

He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and thrusted it into your hand.

"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”

So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him.

Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before running out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time. 

You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.

The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline pumping in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?

"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”

With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a moment.

You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”

He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.

You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra. 

"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.

"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"

“So? Give me yours!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?

“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”

His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”

You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”

“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp,“You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”

“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”

Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”

Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm.

“Show me.”

“Uh?”

He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

The sudden changes in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.

“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”

“What?!”

“I said point it at me,” he repeated, “C’mon.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at his chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.

“Good,” Rafe nodded in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”

“What the hell?! Rafe?!”

“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?

But Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. He was being dead serious.

Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, but now?

“I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”

With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened.

Oh. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.

Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”

You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him.

You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you. 

“Try again.”

This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.

“Atta girl.”

“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”

“I know,” Rafe conceded as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck.  “I panicked, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go. 

“Okay.”

"Let's go.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”

Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into, again. The events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.

"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."

Rafe nodded solemnly, "Yeah.”

"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."

“We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to believe him.

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”

He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere.

There were more important things to worry about. 

You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives. 

God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.

The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream.

You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.

What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you. 

And then there was Rafe.

The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.

“You good, Maybank?”

You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully. 

"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt.

“I don’t know.”

He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.

It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“They’re about you.”

"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you. 

Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."

Your brows pulled together, “What is?”

He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?" 

He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”

Oh. 

You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you

It was a lot to process, and you handy had the time to figure everything out yet.

His fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you. 

“You should’ve told me before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin. 

You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."

His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it. 

You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up.

It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears. 

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you had been feeling deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead.

All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“We shouldn’t…”

Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating. 

You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead.

Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.” 

You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security. 

“Night, pretty Maybank.”

You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making. 

You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”

“I can’t sleep.”

His hold tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”

It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again.

“Turn around.”

You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him. Was he telling you to spoon him?

“What?”

Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”

With a soft sigh, you did as he asked, turning onto your side to face away from him.

He moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like some kind of shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin. 

“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

These were dangerous waters.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right. 

An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you moved again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.

Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.

His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.

His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his hoarse, “’M right here.”

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head.

Rafe's reaction was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.

���Tell me to stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.

You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”

You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"

You swallowed hard. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted.

You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."

You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire you needed to reach.

One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.

You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”

You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts turning to mush as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”

Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.

The rhythm he set was maddening.

His breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.

He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Ra—You’re gonna make me come,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.

At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”

His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised,“Want to feel you dripping around my fingers.”

His words sent you spiraling, the buzz inside you building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your pussy.

Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.

Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.

The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.

“Shit shit”, you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”

“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”

He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length. 

Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven.

Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he tried to control himself.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, “So perfect.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.

“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.

He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in.

His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.

“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so so close.

“I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.

“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”

Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him. 

Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You tryn’ to kill me, pretty Maybank?”

You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”

Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix.

Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn grew into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.

“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.

You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.

You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.

A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole.

The taste of him filled your mouth, cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours.

The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.

You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.

“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”

You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.

“Oh god, Rafe, I’m s-so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“Come for me, pretty. Wanna to feel you drippin’ all over my cock.”

That was all it took.

With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe, jaw slack open as his hands never left your body.

As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips tender. He murmured soothing words and you swore you were on cloud nine.

You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth. 

But as the pleasure subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.

"Rafe," you called, “Need to feel you come inside me."

His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass,

"Watch your fucking mouth.”

The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.

Rafe's eyes snapped open,"You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."

You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.

You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.

"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel your cum."

The pet name did it.

With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.

The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his ass as he drove into you in a mean mating press. His pace was relentless, like he’d die if he stopped.

The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, only amplified the passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.

"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."

You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Come for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."

"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising.

And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. Your own body still buzzed with the aftermath of your pleasure.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that left you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as his lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss so different to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but you broke, and a sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you weren’t feeling so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else.

He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up anxiety.

"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering, "I know, Maybank," he whispered,"I’m scared too.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?"

He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."

“But it’s wrong.”

“I know, pretty.”

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.

“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you a little strength.

After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.

Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.

“Promise.”