#mirror popee x reader

[ctheathy]

Yandere Eepop the Performer NSFW Headcanons

Eepop x Reader

Yandere+NSFW Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: I personally interpret Eepop as a male. But I am always willing to write for those who'd see her as a girl instead ;)) Just don't forget to mention which gender you'd think is more fitting if you wanna request for Eepop <3

Eepop/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Both reader+character are of legal age or aged-up for obvious reasons in this post!

These are smut headcanons, read at own risk. dom!Reader+sub!Eepop • You're basically gonna step on him LOL • Masochism on top of some more masochism • Obsession • Another sadism streak Reader • Poor mental state • Punishment • Harassment • Sexual fantasies • Dirty talk • Onomadek's abuse mentioned • Degradation • Climax mentioned •

I believe it's quite easy to say that Eepop is a rather submissive and meek person to be around. Even as a yandere with his nasty mentality, he would still be obedient to what you tell him ... probably even more so. Cause unlike usually being fearful of being hurt, in this state Eepop relishes in his pain. Years upon years of Onomadek's physical abuse, torturous abilities on the mental state and hostile behaviour having affected Eepop greatly in the head. You could literally make him bow down with the snap of a finger and that's not even all of it. You could walk all over him and he would absolutely love being under your heel. You could treat him like a personal footstool and he would still ask for more. You'd definitely have Eepop as a masochist because he’ll be craving the idea of being physically dominated and hurt. If you were to step on a tiny insect next to him, it wouldn't take long for his body to react. Getting so shaky and aroused that he’d be seconds away from begging you to step on him too.

Oh, when this man proposes the idea, you should absolutely take your chance and do it too. I suggest you try remaining partly gentle about it though, as we're not necessarily here to cause any physical harm. But as long as you keep a high posture, basically threatening him with the sharp heel of your footgear, he’d be completely at your mercy in that situation. He would try to resist himself for a bit, try to ignore how turned on he is by you, try to ignore how much he wants you to continue. But eventually his breath would start becoming erratic, eyes half lid as he whimpers out your name while squirming.

But as soon as you brought the heels out he would probably be trembling all over, trying to plead with you to be gentler with him and not get his hopes up and then crush them. Like you would just constantly be walking around him, keeping him on edge by coming dangerously close to stepping on him but never actually doing it. And the sharp tip wouldn't even dig into him, but instead pinched in between his thighs as it's pressing his crotch. Which is treatment Eepop would go absolutely wild over. A person that can dominate him in every aspect but in such an oddly gentle way? A person that squeezes his crotch but doesn’t dig their heel into his flesh? Eepop's mind would be utterly filled with the most erotic and sweet thoughts about you. And the fact that you couldn't even bother to look at him would make it even worse. You would have the capability to absolutely stomp down on him, but you may also actively just choose not to.

There would definitely be better options instead, like teasingly dragging your footwear across his face, tracing his jawline before sliding them down his body. Squeezing his rump as you apply the pressure to his hips, looking down at him with such an unimpressed gaze. Dragging your foot down his side like it’s nothing, your heel poking his skin like pins in a balloon. You’d be able to hear a high-pitched yelp every time you moved it along his skin, his tail flinching and becoming stiff as it happens. And he would likely just freeze in place, not knowing what to do or knowing whether he could move or not, trying to act like it didn't sting a little bit.

I honestly cannot even imagine you putting your heel against his throat or near it and NOT having him be completely terrified and start frantically pleading with you like you hold his life in your hands. He would definitely be in shambles after a session like that, with the worst part being that he embarrassingly craves more of it. He would be pouring with desire, he would want nothing more than to please you. He would probably have to be force-fed water or he would dehydrate from how much he would be salivating. You would be able to do whatever you wanted with him like this and he would be a complete mess.

You should have absolutely zero shame with this boy. You could toy with his feelings and fantasies like a master, being the reason why his mind starts to fall apart like a house of cards. Holding even less respect for him if he were to fall onto his knees and moan for you to take advantage of his mind and body, at the verge of completely begging for you to do what you want with him and use him as a puppet. And I wouldn't even be surprised if you pushed him that far that he ends up releasing before the ordeal is even done, the white strings that squirt out of his body now ruining your footgear ...which would likely, understandably make you scoff in disgust. Your flirting turning more passive aggressive.

“You would've preferred to empty your load inside of me instead, didn't you..~?”

“You'd much rather prefer your meat to be buried deep within me and your sticky semen being shot and squirt into me like you were trying to overload me with your mark, wouldn't you?”

“I'm betting you would want to fill me up with your seed. ...Gross.”

A moment where you'd really just be playing along and feeding into those fantasies. Where in return his junk would keep twitching in excitement by just hearing it. Any sense of sanity draining from his face the longer you keep it up, as his tail begins to sway excitedly at this treatment. I can absolutely imagine his body having a similar reaction too, like his hips twitch up involuntarily, his breath shivers and quivers every time you even say something. His whole body spasming every now and again when you do this and you laugh and mock him for it. You'd be able to get him all kinds of riled up in the most suggestive ways possible. Just the mere thought of him hearing the things that you'd say to him and his body is just absolutely tingling with raw excitement and arousal.

Where in response you could be behaving so bipolar that you'd go from treating him like an angel and telling him “good boy” to looking down at his whimpering puppy-like face and calling him a filthy dog. But it's getting to a point where you're not even wrong for doing that, he is the filthiest boy of them all. He's so out of control that he deserves to be put down and punished. And this is when he'll start getting into the dirty names. I could easily imagine Eepop's body being sent into a state of pure primal hunger. You're playing with his fantasies and desires, teasing him with those sweet words and making his mouth water for more. I’d bet that at some point he’d be trying to keep his mouth closed to prevent any saliva from dribbling out and down his chin, but his breathing would become more and more shallow as you continued to tease him.

His poor, poor eyes would roll back so much that he would be able to see the inside of his skull. It would be so much for him to handle that he would immediately become completely overwhelmed, turning into this twitching, drooling mess of a boy that's desperate for you to keep giving anything to him. It would be the biggest test to his willpower ever and he wouldn’t survive it. He would simply give in and beg the entire time.

Where he'd honestly just have a whole mental breakdown at that point. He’d fall to his knees and plead with you with tears in his eyes. Eepop would be at a low point like he’s never been in his entire life, he would be the most submissive and pathetic person in existence and he would absolutely want you to have so much power over him. He’d be nothing but “give me more of yourself, I want you to own me. I want you to make me yours. please... please…” and doing anything in order to get it. He’s so weak and susceptible and you'd know exactly what you're doing to him. All your little comments and questions of degradation, the way you hold and present yourself, your voice, your body, your lips...

EVERYTHING is a form of control for him.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

[chanelsweetx]

s2!rafe x maybank!reader where she’s the little sister of jj & they end up fucking in a bathroom at a kook party. the pogues catch them & rafe is not even trying to denie it cause that was the best pussy he ever had🤭🎀

bathroom

rafe cameron

you and your brothers friends stumble into the kind of fancy party you know you don’t belong at. do you care? not even for a second.

everyone scatters in different directions, john b. looking way too sharp in a black suit, sarah looking nice as well locked into a heated argument with kelce, pope heading straight for the drinks, and your brother jj, with kiara heading for the beer pong table, ready to dominate.

youu on the other hand, pull down your black tight dress so your boobs softly spill out, revealing more cleavage. your head turns to the sound of toppers laugh. you see rafe, a smirk planted on his sexy face. he’s wearing an all black suit, he chuckles as he removes his suit jacket, placing it on the chair next to him. you’d be lying if if it didn’t make your panties wet.

“hey rafe,” you step in between him and topper. topper gets the message and steps away sending rafe a wink. “hey baby,” he murmurs placing his hands on your hips. “where’s your brother?” he asks pulling you in so you’re pressed against him. you glance up at him considering he’s towering over you. “playing beer pong.” you smirk knowing that the beer pong table is far from where you and rafe stand. he leans down softly connecting your lips. the kiss is needy and wet. your hand moves to behind his neck, tugging at his hair. he groans into your mouth muttering, “jump.” as his hands slide behind your thighs. you jump up, your legs wrapping around his waist. he removes his lips from yours as he quickly walks you two over to the bathroom.

once you reach your destination, race places you on the counter, flicking on the warm lights. you tug his tie aggressively reconnecting your lips. his lips are soft and warm, the kiss full of need, considering you two hadn’t had sex in weeks due to your brother being around. “fuck, missed you so much baby.” he groans against your lips. you whimper into his lips as you feel his hardness press against your core. “need you so bad rafey,” you cry out.

he traces his lips down your neck surely leaving marks. his lips then make there way to your cleavage. you squirm under his touch. rafe then moves to where you need him the most, his head moving slightly under your dress. you hear him suck in a breath as he makes eye contact with your core. “all for me?” he asks, pressing his thumb against the material of your drenched black thong. “yes rafe! please, i need you” he smirks placing a soft kiss over your panties, you whimper softly. his fingers hook around your underwear pulling them down. he stuffs them into his suit pocket. “such a pretty pussy,” he compliments making you moan, feeling your arousal cover your thighs.

rafe comes back up to your face placing a kiss on your lips. you smile leaning in to kiss hos neck. your hands trace down to undo his tie and shirt. your lips come back up to his lips, ghosting your hands over his bulge, he moans into your mouth. you then undo the button and zipper of his pants. he then lifts you up flipping you over so you can see the both of you in the mirror. he then pulls down his pants kicking them off his feet leaving him in only his boxers. he unzips the back of your dress and pulling it down leaving you in your matching black lace bra. rafe groans, quickly pulling down his calvin klein boxers, his hard length slapping against his stomach. “ready baby?” he smirks, gripping your hips tightly. you nod aggressively, he chuckles. he slides his cock in between your lips before pushing himself into you. “rafe!” you gasp. he then starts thrusting into you. his length is the perfect size, hitting the spot inside you perfectly with every thrust. he groans behind you “so tight baby, i missed this pussy so much” his grip on your hips growing even tighter being sure to leave a bruise tomorrow. you moan loudly looking at his face of pleasure in the mirror in front of you. he kisses the crown of your head thrusting faster into you,“cum rafe!” you warn, barely able to form a sentence. “me too sweetheart.” he groans. the knot in your stomach then snaps, covering rafes dick in your cum. you then feel him spill deep inside of you.

he pulls out of you softly flipping you over. “you okay baby?” he asks his, eyes full of concern. “never better,” you smile. he places a soft kiss on your lips, rafe smiles back at you, pulling up his boxers and pants. he then picks up your dress off the floor, helping you put it back on.

you both jump at the sound of pounding on the bathroom door as rafe zips your dress. “the fuck do you want,” rafe yells placing a kiss on your cheek. he swings open the door, still shirtless. “rafe cameron you bastard!” you hear the voice of your brother jj. “jayj! calm down.” you interfere. but jj doesn’t care he continues screaming. “baby go find kie, i’ll deal with him.” he offers you a smile. you give him an are you sure? look, he nods.

a punch is then thrown at rafe,

“worth it.”

thank you so much for reading!! leave more requests!!

[drewsephrry]

Love Island - Episode 11: Purple Lace Bra

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

words: 5.9k

warnings: cuss words, sexual innuendos, pretense of sexual acts

series masterlist

A few hours have passed since the text about the Heart Rate Challenge and the villa is buzzing with energy. In the makeup room, the girls are crowded around the mirrors, giggling and squealing as they touch up their glam.

“If John B’s heart doesn’t raise the most for me, I swear to God, I’m gonna be fuming.” Sarah announces dramatically.

“Especially after last night?” Maddy raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Everyone heard you two.”

Sarah’s eyes go wide as the room erupts into laughter.

“Okay, sorry…about that.” She mutters, quickly grabbing her eyeshadow palette to avoid eye contact.

“Is that why you were bouncing off the walls this morning?” Alyssa teases, wiggling her brows.

“Oh, shut up.” Sarah mumbles, her cheeks turning pink.

Across the room, Cleo groans at her reflection. 

“Y/N, why’d you have to bake today? I’m bloated as hell.” She moans as the girls laugh again.

“Don’t blame me, I didn’t know this challenge was happening!” Y/N raises her hands up in surrender.

“Oh my god, I forgot to shave!” Abigail yelps, making a beeline for the bathroom as the laughter doubles over. 

“Okay, real talk. How’s everyone feeling?” Maddy asks, dabbing highlighter into the inner corner of her eye. 

“Honestly?” Y/N sighs, setting down her brush. “Kinda nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” Alyssa blinks. Y/N glances briefly at Sarah, then drops her gaze back to her makeup bag. 

“Yeah, well…dancing all sexy in a tiny outfit in front of seven guys and the entire world watching? It's nerve-wracking.” She says dryly, reaching for her mascara. Sarah and Maddy both nod in solidarity.

“Please.” Alyssa scoffs. “That boy is down bad for you. He blushes just looking at you.”

Y/N doesn't respond, keeping her focus on her lashes.

“Alright, ladies, let’s calm down.” Cleo declares, noticing the tension. “And can someone please show me some moves before I embarrass myself?”

Y/N chuckles softly. 

“Yeah, let me finish up my makeup and I’ll help you.” She offers.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Cleo grins, grateful. 

Meanwhile, the boys are gathered around the firepit, with heart monitors around their wrists and dressed in casual fits, buzzing with anticipation as they wait for the girls to make their entrance.

“Y’all excited?” JJ asks, glancing around. The group nods, a few low chuckles rippling through.

“Yeah, man.” Topper replies, bouncing his leg slightly.

“I’m honestly more nervous for our turn.” Pope admits, earning a round of agreement.

“Think any of them are gonna surprise us?” JJ asks.

“For sure.” John B says confidently.

“Have you seen the way those girls move?” Kelce adds, shaking his head. “They’re gonna go all out.”

“Can they come out already?” Rafe leans back with a groan.

Just a few minutes pass before the speaker crackles to life and ‘Don’t Cha’ by The Pussycat Dolls blasts through the villa. The boys immediately sit up straighter, all heads turning toward the path as the unmistakable click of heels grows louder.

Kiara rounds the corner first, owning the moment in a sheer purple babydoll dress, delicate matching lingerie just visible underneath. Her platform heels give her extra height, fairy wings flutter softly behind her and a crown of flowers is nestled in her curls. She moves like she’s on a runway, mouthing the lyrics with a confident smile.

She starts with Kelce. Dropping low in front of him, before coming back up. She gives him a playful lick up his neck that has Kelce’s eyebrows shooting to his hairline as the boys lose their minds beside him.

Next is Ryan. Kiara gives him a little shimmy of her chest and throws in a teasing wink. Ryan’s face goes bright red as he looks away, his hands gripping the couch tightly.

At Pope, her energy softens. She grazes her hands across his chest and presses a kiss to his jaw, then trails down to his neck. Pope lets out a breath and glances to the sky like he’s trying to focus on anything but the feel of her.

Then comes Rafe. The energy shifts again, no seduction, just a sharp high-five that smacks through the air. The guys burst into laughter as Rafe leans back on the couch, clearly grateful to be spared the full treatment.

Kiara turns to John B and the flirt is back. She spins around, drops it low and gives him a slow twerk that makes him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He clears his throat, adjusting his shirt while the boys holler.

Topper gets a slow, sultry drag of her fingers along his chest and collarbone, his smirk faltering just a bit as she leans in close but then she keeps walking.

JJ’s eyes are already wide when she approaches. Kiara climbs onto his lap without hesitation, her hands sliding into his hair as she presses her lips to his neck. Her hips roll slowly, deliberately and JJ’s head falls back like he’s transcending the moment.

“Yo, look at JJ.” Rafe mutters, nudging Pope, both of them wide-eyed and grinning.

Kiara finally pulls back with a satisfied smirk, pats JJ’s chest and glides back toward the villa. Applause erupts behind her, the boys losing it and JJ falls onto the ground.

“Dude.” He wheezes as Topper helps him up. “What the actual fuck was that?”

The rest of them are still yelling, clapping, trying to recover.

Confessional - JJ “And six more girls are gonna do this?” He scoffs. “Cool. Yeah. Just kill me now.” JJ stares at the camera, flushed and shirtless.

The speaker blasts ‘Candy’ by Doja Cat and all eyes turn to the villa as Abigail struts out. She’s dressed in a black lacy top, a short skirt, thigh-high socks and a tiny apron to represent a maid outfit, complete with accessories and a feather duster in hand. She saunters over with a seductive smile, sitting onto Kelce’s lap and rolling her hips to the beat, earning a groan from him and cheers from the boys.

She moves from one guy to the next, straddling Ryan with a playful roll of her hips, kneeling between Pope’s legs to suck on his finger, licking Rafe's neck and teasing John B with her duster. Topper gets a teasing show as she raises a leg on the couch and runs her hands over her outfit, while rolling her body, leaving him speechless.

Finally, she makes her way to JJ, settling in his lap before pulling him into a heated kiss. Kiara’s scream of encouragement echoes from the terrace as their hands explore and their tongues tangle. Abigail giggles as she pulls back, grabs her feather duster and struts back toward the villa, leaving the boys clapping.

Confessional - JJ “Literally...kill me.” JJ says, shirtless, deadpan. “I’m not built for this.”

‘Sports Car’ blares through the speakers as Maddy steps out in a red, skin tight race car driver bodysuit, zipped low in the middle, paired with knee-high boots. Her curls bounce with each step and she holds a checkered flag that flutters in the night breeze.

“Is it…” She throws away her flag and pulls the zipper lower, revealing bare cleavage beneath. “Getting hot in here?” She teases with a mock gasp. 

The boys erupt, Ryan practically shakes Kelce out of his seat, while Kiara and Abigail cheer from the terrace.

Maddy struts past Kelce, giving Ryan a cheeky shake of her ass, then grinds smoothly on Pope’s lap. She kisses Rafe’s cheek and neck, sucks on John B’s finger, rolls her hips on Topper's and leans into JJ, pressing her chest to his face with a sultry smirk.

Finally, she turns back to Kelce, clearly saving the best for last. Pulling him to his feet, she runs her hands down and back up his body before pushing him back into his seat. She straddles him and kisses him deeply, her hips rolling in sync with the beat. One last peck and she struts away, the boys clapping like they’ve just witnessed a miracle.

Confessional - Kelce “Maddy…” He exhales, still catching his breath. “That girl didn’t just move, she performed.”

‘Naughty Girl 'by Beyoncé pulses through the speakers as Cleo steps out in a tight police officer bodysuit, handcuffs twirling from her fingers. She walks to the beat, owning every step.

“Any naughty boys out here?” She teases, her accent drawing laughter and nods from the boys.

“He is!” Rafe grins, pointing at Pope. Cleo smirks, strutting towards Kelce and circling the firepit, giving each guy a playful moment. 

Lastly, she climbs onto Pope’s lap, kissing him deeply as she guides his hands to her ass, grinding against him to the music. The boys erupt, but Pope barely registers it. She pulls back just enough to place her police hat on his head.

“Don’t lose that.” She says, grinning, then stands and walks away, hips swaying like she’s in full control.

The boys cheer wildly.

Pope remains frozen, eyes wide and unmoving.

“Dude...you good?” Topper laughs.

“I-I think I need a minute.” Pope stammers and the laughter doubles.

Confessional – Cleo “I had no idea what I was doing. Like, zero.” She cackles. “I just hope my ass looked good.”

The speaker comes to life again and Madison Beer’s ‘Make You Mine’ pulses through the villa. The boys snap their heads to the entrance, anticipation thick in the air.

Then she walks out.

“Holy fuck.” Rafe breathes, eyes wide.

Y/N is a vision. She's wearing a checkered bandeau top and matching ruffled mini skirt, lace tracing the hem just enough to tease. White knee-high socks with little red bows along with white platforms that make her legs look longer. Her hands are covered by red, sheer gloves and ruffles that catch the light as they move. Her curls bounce beneath a tall chef’s hat as she holds a whisk in one hand. But it’s the way she moves. Slow, sultry and confident that holds everyone captive.

“Let’s go!” Maddy screams from the terrace.

Y/N flashes her a smile, then struts toward the fire pit, every step deliberate. When the beat drops, so does she, into an improvised routine that somehow feels choreographed, like she’s done it a hundred times before. The guys can’t look away. When she bends down low, the skirt lifts just enough to reveal a white thong underneath. Rafe feels like his heart’s going to explode.

She starts with Kelce, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from his seat before bending him over with a dramatic flair. The villa erupts into laughter as she gives him a playful smack with the whisk, giggling right along with the rest of them.

Then it’s Ryan, her current partner. She moves to him effortlessly, straddling his lap, her hips rolling in slow, hypnotic waves. Her hands glide over her body with ease, like every inch of her was made to be admired. Untouchable. Electric.

John B covers Rafe’s eyes, but he bats his hand away, locked in.

She glides to Pope next, sitting onto his lap and circling her hips again before falling back into his chest, laughing breathlessly. Then she’s up, catching Rafe’s stare and she smirks at him as she passes by.

She kisses down John B’s neck, biting softly before giggling. Even Topper, who’s pissed at her, bites his lip when she turns around and teases him with a playful shake of her ass.

Then she’s on JJ, laughing as she straddles him. She grabs his hands, places them on her chest and rolls her body like the music is made just for her. JJ smirks, clearly enjoying himself. Rafe’s jaw tightens.

And then, she drops to the ground.

The guys lose it as she crawls, slowly, directly toward Rafe. John B and Pope instinctively scoot aside. She kneels between his legs, fingers sliding up his body. Then, with one smooth motion, she jumps into his lap, her body landing flush against his.

Their lips meet, fast and heated, but she pulls away just as quick, pushing his head back against the wood behind him. Her mouth trails down his neck as she undoes his shirt expertly, one button at a time, nails dragging against his chest.

Rafe gasps loudly and the boys go nuts.

She pulls away, lips flushed, breathing heavy. Then she leans in, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Tell George I’m sorry.” She murmurs against his ear. Then she’s gone. Back to the villa, hips swaying like nothing happened. Rafe just lies there, stunned as the rest clap.

“Yo!” JJ grins. “Did you get a boner?”

“Yes.” Rafe groans, adjusting himself without shame.

Back on the terrace, Maddy pulls Y/N into a hug.

“Girl! You ate. Rafe is done.”

Y/N just laughs, still catching her breath.

“I think I blacked out.” She admits. “I don’t even know what I did.”

Confessional – Rafe “Okay, but like…when’s the hideaway open again?” He looks off-camera. “For real.”

Alyssa’s heels click confidently against the ground as Ariana Grande’s ‘Dangerous Woman’ pulses through the speakers. She struts out in a red corset, lace shorts and knee-high red socks fastened with garters. A pair of red devil horns perch atop her head like a crown.

Topper lets out a loud howl as she makes her way toward the firepit, eating up the attention. Alyssa throws a few flirty moves to the first boys, but pulls a big performance for Rafe. She climbs onto his lap, pressing her body against his, her movements slow and deliberate as she tries to read his face.

Rafe leans back casually, his expression unreadable, detached, almost bored.

“She’s trying too hard.” Maddy whispers to Y/N from the terrace above. Y/N doesn’t answer. Her eyes are locked on Rafe’s face, studying his every reaction.

Alyssa leans in, lips brushing against his neck as her hips continue to roll. But just as she does, Rafe glances up toward the terrace, locking eyes with Y/N.

Alyssa catches it. She pulls back, annoyed and with an exaggerated eye roll, slides off his lap and moves on without a word.

When she reaches Topper, she turns the charm back on. Even though they’ve been coupled up for ages, she treats him to the same routine, only this time, she caps it off with a slow, deep kiss that lingers just a little too long.

Confessional - Alyssa “I think I crushed it!” She grins, tossing her hair. “I mean…did you see that?”

The last girl to take the stage is Sarah. As Britney Spears’ ‘Gimme More’ comes on, she struts out in a bubblegum pink bodysuit, fishnets and matching heels. A pair of bunny ears bounce on her head, a pink bowtie collar wraps around her neck and a fluffy pom-pom tail completes the look.

The girls erupt in cheers from the terrace, screaming her name as she saunters around the firepit, hips swaying to the beat. She gives each guy just a taste, but enough to leave them wanting more.

A kiss pressed to Kelce’s neck. She sits onto Ryan’s lap like she belongs there. Sucks on Pope’s finger with a slow smirk. Rafe gets a kiss on the cheek and she flashes a cheeky thumbs-up to Y/N on the terrace, setting off a round of giggles from the girls.

With Topper, she settles on his lap, rolling her hips in a way that’s almost cruel. JJ gets a flirty body roll and her pair of bunny ears perched on his head.

Then she turns to John B. She grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him up effortlessly, leading him by the collar.

“Walk him like a dog, Sarah!” Y/N yells with a laugh.

Sarah turns, pushing John B down onto the ground. He obeys without hesitation, grinning as she crawls on top of him. With a practiced flick, she sweeps her hair to one side, offering a full view of her neck and then leans in, kissing him hard, slow and deep.

His hands find her waist as she moves against him, completely owning the moment.

The girls scream from the balcony again.

When she finally pulls back and gets up, her hips sway like nothing just happened.

The boys get up from their seats, applauding and John B stays on the floor, dazed and impressed.

Upstairs, Sarah barely makes it to the top before Y/N and Maddy run to her, squealing.

“You killed it out there!” Y/N shouts, throwing her arms around her.

Confessional - Y/N "Not gonna lie, watching Sarah move like that? Instant fanny flutters." She admits.

The girls make their way to the fire pit, still in their challenge outfits, changed into comfortable slippers instead of their tall heels, heart rate monitors strapped snugly around their wrists. They settle in, giggling and waiting for the boys’ turn.

“Bring them out! Bring them out!” Maddy chants, pumping her fists. The others join in, laughter bubbling up as ‘Ice Ice Baby’ starts playing. Confused glances are exchanged before they shrug and start clapping along to the beat.

Suddenly, JJ bursts out dressed in a beige toga, white angel wings and gold accessories. The girls erupt into laughter as he lip-syncs the first verse flawlessly, selling every word with exaggerated swagger.

As the chorus hits, he struts toward Alyssa, rolling his body dramatically, making her double over with laughter. Next is Abigail, he lifts her effortlessly, her legs wrapped around his waist as he bounces her in his arms. She squeals, gripping him tightly. He lowers her gently and plants a playful kiss on her cheek.

Then he turns to Kiara. Without warning, he parts her knees and rolls his body against hers, full grind-mode. The girls scream, while Kiara sits frozen, wide-eyed.

Maddy’s next. JJ spins her around, grabs her hips and pulls her back onto him with no hesitation.

“Whew, go J!” She laughs breathlessly.

When he reaches Y/N, he slows it down, licking up her neck to her ear, then gently biting her earlobe while gripping her thigh. Y/N gasps, visibly flustered and JJ flashes a wicked grin before moving on.

He grabs Sarah’s hands next, dragging them over his chest before pretending one is a mic, rapping into it with full commitment. Finally, he ends with Cleo, giving her a cheeky kiss. She cringes, giggling as he dances away.

The girls cheer wildly as JJ struts back to the villa, arms in the air like a champ.

Confessional - Abigail “JJ definitely brought the energy.” She says with a slight shrug. “But honestly? I expected…more.”

The speaker crackles to life again, this time, ‘Please Me’ by Cardi B and Bruno Mars blares across the villa. The girls perk up, scanning the area for the next boy.

Then out comes Pope in bright yellow baggy pants, red suspenders and a firefighter hat perched on his head. Sarah grabs Cleo, shaking her as the girls burst into cheers. Just as Cardi starts singing, Pope yanks down the pants in one dramatic motion, revealing snug black shorts that leave little to the imagination.

The girls scream.

He goes around to the girls, body rolling with messy confidence. He plops into Maddy’s lap, pulling her hands to his chest in mock seduction and makes everyone chuckle by sucking one of Sarah’s fingers.

Then he makes a beeline for Cleo. He picks her up effortlessly, cradling her close as he plants a deep, lingering kiss on her lips. One of her hands settles gently on his cheek, while his grip tightens around her thighs, one hand on her ass.

When he sets her down, he places his firefighter hat on her head and bounces away, grinning ear to ear. Cleo bites her lip, cheeks flushed.

“How was that kiss?” Y/N teases.

“Too good.” Cleo laughs and the girls break into a chorus of giggles.

Confessional - Cleo “Yeah, that kiss?” She smiles, still dazed. “That was…really good. And his moves? Didn’t think he had that in him, honestly.”

Next up ‘Yeah!’ by Usher plays and the girls look around in surprise before Topper struts out in a full gladiator costume. Sword in hand, chest bare, he lifts his weapon theatrically. The girls crack up.

He tosses the sword to the ground, then drops into a near-perfect worm as screams erupt.

Topper rises and struts past Alyssa, heading straight to Abigail where he rolls his hips against her with exaggerated precision. Then he sucks on Kiara’s finger, she blinks, stunned, before planting kisses on Maddy’s neck and chest. Maddy shoots a bewildered glance at Y/N, nose scrunched in amused disbelief.

Topper turns, facing Y/N. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he clenches and unclenches his butt cheeks like it's choreography. She laughs, fully unbothered.

He bends down to Sarah next, kissing her neck and parting her legs to pull her closer, lingering a little too long. Sarah clears her throat. Topper backs off, finally moving on to Cleo with a brief lap dance.

Then, for his finale, he lifts Alyssa right off the bench, laying her gently against the wooden platform. With his hips pressed to hers, he leans in and kisses her deeply as she giggles into his mouth. The girls cheer wildly. From the balcony, JJ hollers while Pope casually eats popcorn, watching the show.

When Topper’s satisfied, he helps Alyssa back to her feet, gives a theatrical bow, and walks away like a man who just conquered Rome.

Confessional - Alyssa “Topper was good.” She nods slowly. “But…it kinda bothered me how much time he spent on Sarah.” Her lips press into a thin line.

‘SexyBack’ by Justin Timberlake hits the speakers like a shot of adrenaline. The girls perk up immediately, ready, but nothing prepares them for what comes next.

Rafe walks out, slow and deliberate. He’s wearing baggy, grease-stained pants slung low on his hips, a reflective construction vest that barely covers his chest, a yellow hard hat and a wrench casually swinging in his hand.

Y/N’s lips part before she even realizes. 

“Oh. My. God.” She breathes.

He smirks, he knows what he’s doing. And when he reaches the fire pit, he pauses for effect before ripping the pants away, revealing fitted black shorts that cling to him like a second skin.

“Damn, girl, he’s packing.” Maddy whispers.

Y/N smacks her without taking her eyes off him. 

“I know.” She murmurs back, with wide eyes.

He strides toward the girls with confident ease, his gaze sharp and unreadable. As he reaches Alyssa, he leans in and plants a quick, almost obligatory kiss on her cheek. No charm behind it, no spark. Just a quiet, clear message that he is not into her.

Alyssa blinks, caught slightly off guard and straightens her posture as if trying to recover her pride. But the moment hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Y/N watches it unfold, her eyes narrowing with a flicker of satisfaction. Her lips tug upward in a small, smug smile. She doesn’t say anything, just shares a knowing glance with Sarah, who stifles a laugh.

Then Rafe moves on to Abigail. He grabs her hands, placing them firmly against his chest, dragging them slowly over the ridges of his abs with a devilish grin. Abigail laughs, caught up in the performance, but he is focused on Y/N.

He shifts to Kiara next, pressing a soft, respectful kiss to her cheek. She gives a small smile and a thankful nod. He turns to Y/N.

She leans up toward him instinctively and he swerves. Walks right past her.

The girls gasp. Y/N freezes, stunned, a half-smile frozen on her face. She blinks, lips parted, brows lifted. She doesn’t know whether she wants to laugh or kill him.

He continues to Sarah, then Cleo, handing off his hat like it’s part of the act. 

He struts away and just when she thinks he’s done, he spins around and runs straight back to her.

Y/N barely registers what’s happening before he scoops her into his arms, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her to the wooden platform. He lays her down gently, the music still pounding in the background, but it’s like the world has narrowed to just the two of them.

His hands find her wrists, pinning them above her head. 

She gasps, eyes locked on his.

Then his lips crash against hers.

The kiss is deep, consuming. One of those can’t-breathe, can’t-think, don’t-care kinds of kisses. His free hand traces down her body, grabbing her leg and stretching it over his shoulder like it belongs there. She arches beneath him, breath caught, heartbeat wild.

He rolls his hips against hers, slow but controlled. Commanding.

The villa goes wild. The girls scream. JJ yells something unintelligible from the balcony. And Pope almost drops his popcorn. But Y/N can’t hear any of it.

She only hears him.

When he finally pulls away to breathe, she’s still dazed, until he expertly flips her over.

The crowd roars again as he pulls her hips back against his, dragging her into him in a way that feels anything but performative. It’s raw. Possessive. 

Then, as if she weighs nothing, he lifts her over his shoulder, carries her back to the bench and sets her down gently.

He plants one last kiss on her lips, softer this time, but no less intense and he walks away, cocky and cool, like he didn’t just set the entire fire pit on fire.

Y/N sits, still catching her breath, completely flushed.

Confessional - Y/N “Book. Us. The. Hideaway.” She says, fanning herself with both hands. “I’m not kidding. I need him like…yesterday.”

‘Yo Voy’ by Zion & Lennox pulses through the speakers and the girls sit up instantly.

Kelce walks out in a Top Gun jumpsuit, unzipped halfway to reveal his perfectly sculpted chest. A pair of aviators hangs low on his nose, until he tosses them aside with a smirk.

“Oh my God, that’s my favorite song!” Maddy squeals, smacking the couch. “He remembered!” Her voice softens into a giddy coo.

The girls cheer as Kelce strides to the fire pit with swagger, popping open the rest of the jumpsuit and letting the sleeves fall. His torso glistens under the lights and the hollering only gets louder.

He does his round with the girls but he doesn’t waste time. Kelce heads straight for Maddy, lifting her up and laying her out against the platform like she’s a prize. He grinds into her with practiced rhythm, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she throws her head back in laughter.

When he helps her back to her seat, he walks and pauses in front of Y/N. With a quick, cheeky grin, he leans down and kisses her cheek.

“Good man!” Rafe shouts from the terrace, laughter echoing around the villa.

Y/N smiles up at him, shaking her head, but her eyes sparkle with amusement as Kelce moves on to the next girls.

When he starts to walk away, just a few steps in, he pauses. With zero hesitation, he shimmies out of the rest of the jumpsuit, revealing a pair of impossibly tiny, neon green underwear.

Rafe and JJ go feral on the balcony, whistling and howling as the girls explode.

He turns around to reveal the back and it’s barely hanging on, wedged so far up it might as well be invisible. The screams from the girls are immediate.

Maddy, Sarah and Y/N collapse to the ground, crying with laughter.

Confessional - Kelce “Listen…” He smirks, tongue poking his cheek. “You get one shot to show off the goods, so I made sure they saw all of them.”

Then, the unmistakable beat of ‘Promiscuous’ by Nelly Furtado is heard.

John B steps out in denim shorts trimmed with cow print, a red bandana tied around his neck, brown cowboy boots and a matching cowboy hat tilted low over his eyes. His belt buckle gleams in the firelight.

“Yeehaw, bitch!” Maddy shouts, smacking Sarah’s arm, over Y/N. Sarah hides her face in her hands, already blushing.

John B keeps it light with the rest of the girls, just a few cheeky moves here and there, but it’s very clear who he’s here for.

He moves, determined, up to Sarah, tosses the hat off and gently presses her back on the bench. Cleo rushes away, cackling. The moment their lips meet, the girls erupt into a chorus of cheers. Her legs coil tightly around his waist and her fingers tug at the strands of hair peeking from under his cap.

They laugh into the kiss, whispering something only they can hear. When he finally pulls back, he plants the cowboy hat on Sarah’s head with a wink and walks off like he just won riding the mechanic bull.

Confessional - Sarah “You know what they say…” She grins, pretending to twirl a lasso. “Ride a cowboy, save a horse.” 

The girls lounge by the firepit, their chatter buzzing with leftover adrenaline as they wait for the final boy to come out.

“You know.” Y/N begins, eyes glinting with faux annoyance. “I think I’m more upset that I didn't get to see Maddy do her thing…than I’ve ever been in this villa.”

The girls laugh, but Maddy smirks knowingly, already climbing into Y/N’s lap like it’s second nature.

“Oh, she’s doing her thing now.” Sarah teases as the girls burst into cheers.

Maddy rolls her hips slowly, playfully, while Y/N's hands hold her firmly at the waist. The boys up on the terrace freeze, some with amusement, some in awe.

Maddy raises an eyebrow at Y/N, who just nods, biting back a grin. That’s all the encouragement she needs.

Maddy leans in and presses her lips to Y/N’s, soft but deliberate.

The girls scream and holler as the kiss lingers just a beat too long. The guys are stunned.

“Hey-hey!” Rafe blurts out, eyebrows furrowed. “What the fuck?” His voice isn’t angry, just startled. Flustered, even.

Maddy pulls back, casually wiping the smudge of lip gloss from Y/N’s bottom lip before standing.

“Sorry, Cameron.” She says innocently, strutting back to her seat with a proud smirk.

“Dude…” JJ whispers, still slack-jawed. “That was the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Close your mouth, man.” Kelce says, nudging him. “You’re drooling.”

Before anyone can say more, the speaker blares to life with ‘Pony’ by Ginuwine. The mood shifts again.

Ryan steps out, dressed in tight black shorts, football shoulder pads, high socks and a helmet. He tosses a football toward the terrace as he swaggers forward, while Kelce catches it effortlessly.

Helmet off, Ryan heads toward the firepit, the girls screaming and laughing already.

He starts with Alyssa, kissing down her neck and chest sensually, he makes Abigail giggle as he twerks right in her face and kisses her forehead sweetly, then presses his body into Kiara’s and grinds against Maddy like he’s trying to outdo every boy before him.

But everyone’s watching for the moment they know is coming.

Ryan stops in front of Y/N.

The girls go silent. The boys lean forward. Rafe doesn’t move a muscle.

Ryan smirks, stepping between Y/N’s legs like he owns the space.

Y/N blinks, pulse speeding.

Rafe’s jaw flexes up on the terrace, his arms crossed tightly.

Ryan kneels down slowly and lifts one of Y/N’s legs over his shoulder. He starts kissing her inner thigh, trailing down until he reaches the top of her high sock.

Y/N's breath catches as he pulls the sock off with his teeth, never breaking eye contact.

She swears her heart is pounding in her throat.

He presses one last kiss on her shin before standing to kiss her cheek, tenderly, almost teasingly and then moves on to Sarah and Cleo, finishing his set with a sultry suck of Cleo’s finger.

As Ryan walks away, cocky and triumphant, the girls jump up to cheer. Y/N moves with them, but slower. Still flushed, flustered and unsure where to look.

Until she does.

Her gaze lifts to the terrace, where Rafe is already staring at her. Intensely.

She quickly looks away.

Confessional - Rafe “Yeah… uh…” He exhales, scratching the back of his neck. “I definitely preferred it when she was dreaming of Captain America.”

The islanders gather around the firepit, boys on one side, girls on the other. The anticipation buzzes in the air as Sarah stands up, holding a heart-shaped board with the results.

“Alright.” She begins, clearing her throat dramatically. “First up, Pope’s heart rate was raised the most by…Cleo!”

Applause breaks out as Cleo beams and Pope rubs the back of his neck, blushing.

“John B’s heart rate was raised the most by…moi.” Sarah announces with a cheeky grin. John B winks at her, nodding in approval.

Then she glances at the next name, her grin widening.

“Rafe’s heart rate was raised the most by…” She pauses for suspense. “Our little baker, Y/N!”

Laughs ripple through the group as eyes turn to her. Y/N blushes, looking across the firepit at Rafe. He winks at her, cool and smug. 

“JJ’s heart rate was raised the most by…Kiara?” She blinks, surprised. Everyone claps, but the energy is more curious than celebratory.

Y/N’s eyes flick over to Abigail, who offers a tight, practiced smile before looking down at her hands.

“Okay, next…” Sarah continues, clearing her throat. “Kelce’s heart rate was raised the most by Maddy.”

Maddy grins and sends him a playful wink. Kelce just nods, calm and collected.

“Topper’s heart rate was raised the most by…” Sarah squints at the board. “Me?”

Confused claps follow. Topper shrugs awkwardly. Alyssa crosses her arms and looks away, visibly irritated.

Confessional -Alyssa “Like…what the actual fuck?” She mutters, clearly seething. 

“Alright, last boy.” Sarah announces. “Ryan, your heart rate was raised the most by…Y/N.”

Y/N looks down, lips tightening. Across the firepit, Rafe’s jaw tenses visibly. Ryan rubs the back of his neck, trying to lighten the tension.

“Guess I’ve got a thing for bakers.” He jokes, shrugging. A few chuckles echo around the pit, but not from Rafe or Y/N.

Rafe’s eyes stay locked on her.

Now it’s John B’s turn to take over, holding the next set of results.

“Okay, starting with Maddy.” He says. “Your heart rate was raised the most by Kelce.”

“Knew it.” She claps dramatically.

“Sarah, yours was raised the most by…yours truly.” John B says, smiling.

“Duh.” She replies.

“Kiara.” John B continues. “Yours was raised the most by…JJ.”

Kiara turns toward JJ, who’s still wearing his angel costume. His blue eyes meet hers and he smirks. She blinks, caught off guard but smiling faintly.

“Alyssa.” John B reads next. “Your heart rate was raised the most by…Ryan.”

“No. No way.” Alyssa says, shaking her head.

“That’s what your heart monitor said.” He shrugs. She huffs but doesn’t argue further.

“Cleo, your heart rate was raised the most by Pope.” He reads. They exchange a shy smile across the pit.

“Abigail, yours was raised the most by…Ryan.”

Abigail looks at Ryan and lets out a small laugh as she joins in on the applause.

“And finally…” John B pauses for effect. “Y/N, your heart rate was raised the most by…Rafe.”

Before anyone can react, Rafe’s already on his feet.

He strides over, grabs Y/N’s face and kisses her deeply, like he’s been waiting all night for this moment. The firepit erupts in cheers and whistles as the couple finally pulls apart, breathless, smiling, eyes locked.

It’s electric.

And everyone can feel it.

to be continued...

taglist: @cherrygirlfriend @judesgfirl @slickdickwitchbitchh @leather-n-velvet @alinavalentine @littlelamy @ts1mp0ne @starkeyslibrary @rafecameronsfavourite @rafesbuzzcutseason @lolharrystylesissexy @k4yr14 @drewslefttoe @angielvsnick @malibuhearts @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @harryweeniee @imawhoreforu @fastlovela @jjmaybankmylovee @nemesyaaa @drewsnr1slut @laniirackssss @oconnrs @cornliastreett @pvyden @swagmoneydrew @lerclec @rafecameronxxx @totalswag @xoxosblogsblog @julesbog @st8rkey @lewispool @silkylovey @heartlesslies @akobx @vdotcom @runawayrafetrain @stvrkeysgal @heartzshiftamy @xilatrxvmp @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @maybankslover @cameronsbabydoll @veesgrapejuice

[mercvry-glow]

Back again

parings. andrew "pope" cody x reader

summary. an unexpected visitor breaks into your house after having spent years locked away. unexpected, but not necessarily unwelcome.

warnings. age gap (pope 39, reader late 20s), breaking and entering, gun mentioned but not used, reader and pope have a son together, cody family mention, pope is awkward af but literally when is he not, reader does not stand on business and misses pope, pope in general, let me know if there's anything else.

notes. I genuinely struggled so hard with this, but it's finally out. I love the show though and am so glad shawn is getting his flowers with how popular the pitt became. if this flops, idk how much i'll regularly write for pope but if something pops into my head or if i get more requests i'll see what i can do! as always thank you so much and any and all feedback is appreciated!

wc. 2800+

It was past midnight.

The waves outside crashed gently against the cliffs, the ocean reflecting slivers of moonlight. Your bathroom—marble floors, soft golden lighting, wide windows overlooking the water—was quiet except for the hum of your favorite playlist and the low hiss of the shower shutting off.

You wrapped the towel around yourself, tucking it at your chest as you padded across the warm floors. Steam clung to the mirrors, fogged your reflection. You barely glanced at it. Just another night, just another routine. Lip balm, face serum, silk robe. Everything in its place. Controlled. Safe.

Until the lights flickered.

You froze. Turned slowly. Then the hallway sensor triggered—that soft click you weren’t supposed to hear from this side of the house.

Your stomach dropped.

This was a gated home. Security on every window and door. Patrols after dark. You lived here because no one was supposed to get in.

But someone had.

You grabbed the drawer under the sink. Your fingers skimmed the handle of the pistol you never thought you’d need to use again. Heart racing, you crept to the open door of the bathroom, back pressed to the wall, breath locked in your chest.

Then you heard it. Slow, steady footsteps on the hardwood. Not rushing. Not clumsy.

Deliberate.

And then he appeared.

You nearly dropped the gun.

“Jesus—”

“Hey,” Pope said quietly, stepping into the golden glow of the bathroom like he belonged there. Like this was his house. His ocean view. His night.

You stared at him—dripping water, towel barely hanging on, heart pounding so loud you couldn’t think. He looked the same and not the same. Bigger. Leaner. That same raw, unreadable face. Eyes locked on you like they hadn’t looked at anything else in three damn years.

“How—how the fuck did you get in?” you finally breathed, voice shaky but sharp.

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked around. The bathroom. The house behind you. You.

“Security’s good,” he murmured. “But I’m better.”

Your fingers tightened on the handle of the pistol.

“Put it down,” he said softly. “If I wanted to hurt you… I wouldn’t be standing here talking.”

You hesitated. Then set it on the counter with a hard clack.

“You broke into my house.”

“I needed to see you.”

“You could’ve called.”

“You wouldn’t have answered.”

He took a step closer. You didn’t move, but your breath caught. Everything about him still made your skin burn—fear, fury, and something dangerously close to longing.

“I got out,” he said. “And you weren’t at our old house. Smurf told me you moved. Gave me pictures. Told me you were doing good.”

“Pictures?” Your voice broke. “She gave you pictures?”

“Of him too.”

Your heart clenched.

“I didn’t come to fight,” he said quietly. “Didn’t come to take anything. I just… I couldn’t sleep knowing you were out here, and I didn’t know if you were okay.”

You stared at him, the towel still wrapped tight around you, pulse thrumming through every inch of your body. The man who once held you like the world might end. The father of your child. The ghost that haunted every night you told yourself you were over him.

“I should call the cops.”

He nodded. “You should.”

But you didn’t move.

Neither did he.

And the silence between you burned.

You still didn’t move.

Pope stood just inside your bathroom, jaw tight, chest rising slow like every breath burned. His eyes swept over the space—over you—like he couldn’t believe it was real. Like maybe he’d dreamed this place a hundred times in a concrete cell and wasn’t sure yet if this was another one.

“Where is he?”

Your chest tightened. “He’s here, in his room.”

His brow twitched. “Here?”

You nodded, heart pounding. “Down the hall. Asleep.”

He blinked like you’d hit him.

You crossed your arms. “Didn’t see the point in running. Not when I already knew you would find us.” That landed. He looked away, jaw flexing, like he hated how easily he could’ve shown up if he’d tried.

“I figured you’d leave,” he said after a moment. “Take Danny. Disappear.”

You held his stare. “I thought about it. But… he’s got your last name. And I wasn’t gonna lie about that.”

Pope’s eyes flicked toward the hallway—like he could see through the walls. Like the kid he hadn’t seen in three years was just around the corner, breathing softly in his bed.

“Is he okay?” His voice cracked just a little. “I mean… is he good?”

You nodded slowly. “He’s wild. Sweet. Always asking questions. He’s obsessed with dinosaurs. He thinks mac and cheese is gourmet.”

A ghost of a smile touched Pope’s mouth, then faded fast.

“He’s four now?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

You didn’t say anything.

“Does he… does he know about me?”

You swallowed hard. “Only what I told him. That his dad had to go away for a while. But that he loves him.”

Pope stared at the ground for a long moment, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“I never got to say goodbye,” he said.

“I know.”

“I thought about him every damn day.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t trust yourself to.

“Can I see him?” he asked, voice rough. “Just for a second. I won’t wake him, I swear.”

You should’ve said no. Should’ve thrown him out right then and there.

But you couldn’t.

“Be quiet,” you whispered.

He followed you out of the bathroom. Every step down the hall felt heavy, soaked in everything unsaid. You stopped at the second door on the right—blue paint chipped from tiny hands slamming it too hard, a crooked dinosaur sticker stuck near the bottom.

You eased it open.

There he was—Danny. Small and soft and curled up in a tangle of blankets, one hand clutching a stuffed T-Rex, the other flopped above his head like he’d passed out mid-adventure. A dim night light lit up the corner, casting shadows over his round cheeks and dark lashes.

You felt Pope stop behind you.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t breathe. You didn’t even need to look at him to feel what was radiating off him like heat.

Grief. Wonder. Love. Guilt.

He stepped just close enough to see better—just close enough that his hand brushed the doorframe.

“I missed all of it,” he whispered.

You nodded. “Yeah. You did.”

He stared a little longer, eyes full of something thick and breaking. Then he backed away, slowly.

“Thank you,” he said, voice shaking.

You didn’t reply. Just quietly shut the door behind you.

And for a long, fragile moment, neither of you said anything.

Eventually you had taken him downstairs, after getting dressed. You moved around your kitchen slowly, barefoot on cold tile, the silence stretching between you as the fridge door hummed and the rain ticked against the windows. You grabbed two glasses just… needing something to do with your hands.

Andrew stood near the counter, watching you with that unreadable look he always had—like he was half in the room, half stuck in his own head. 

Staring. Always Staring. 

“I drove by our old place the other day,” you said, trying to sound casual. “It was gone. Sold, actually.”

He didn’t look surprised. “Yeah. Smurf sold it while I was inside, probably after you moved.”

You blinked. “She really sold it? That was your house.”

He shrugged, something bitter flashing in his eyes. “Technically it was Smurf’s. Always was. She held the deed. Didn’t want to ‘waste’ it on me rotting in prison after you left too.”

Your stomach twisted. “Jesus…”

“It’s fine,” he muttered, like it didn’t matter. “Wasn’t much to come back to anyway.”

You leaned against the island, glass in hand. “I thought you’d still be staying there. Honestly, I figured I’d see you lurking in the backyard one day.”

A corner of his mouth twitched. “Didn’t think you wanted me anywhere near you.”

You gave a small, tired smirk. “Depends on the day.”

He didn’t laugh, but you saw the tension in his shoulders ease just a little. Still, he wouldn’t sit. Wouldn’t touch the water. Like he didn’t trust himself to get comfortable.

You let the silence hang a beat longer, then asked gently, “You been staying with your family?”

“Yes and no, mainly staying at a motel,” he said. 

You raised an eyebrow. “They don’t want you in the house?

“Pretty much.”

“And Smurf?”

He paused, eyes flicking toward the window. “She called it. Gave me some cash, some kid’s been staying in my room. You remember J?”

You swallowed. “Barely, but that sounds like your mom.”

He glanced at you. “You still see her?”

You hesitated. “Sometimes. Holidays, mostly. She sends gifts. Makes a show of being ‘Grandma Smurf.’” You exhaled, slow and careful. “It’s… complicated.”

“I bet,” he murmured.

You met his eyes. “I don’t hate her. For his sake, or yours, I let her in. But I don’t trust her.”

He nodded. “Good.”

Another pause. Then softly, “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

“In Oceanside?”

He nodded once.

You let your fingers trail the edge of the counter. “Thought about leaving. But this is where he was born. Where we held him for the first time. I didn’t want to erase that just because it hurt.”

Pope looked at you like you’d cracked something in him wide open.

“I thought maybe you’d changed your name,” he said.

“I didn’t,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted him to remember where he came from. Even if he didn’t know all the details.”

Pope swallowed hard, his voice a low rasp. “I don’t deserve that.”

You shrugged. “It wasn’t about you.”

He looked down at the floor, then back at you, and for a second, it felt like time folded in on itself. Like you were young again, still stupid in love with the broken, furious man no one else could understand.

But you weren’t that girl anymore.

And he wasn’t that guy.

Still… your voice came soft, like it always did with him.

“You should stay. I’ll set out some blankets for the guest room.”

Pope didn’t move. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

You gave a tired smile. “Then don’t, Andrew.”

It didn’t take long for you to set him up, and go back to your own room. Sleep didn’t come easy after that conversation, and knowing that Andrew was in the house at your own volition didn’t do anything to ease the worry building in your chest. You didn’t know what time it was when you woke up—just that the light leaking through your curtains was soft and gray-blue, the kind that came before sunrise on cloudy mornings. Your pillow was warm. Your body was tired. But something pulled you from sleep. Some shift in the air.

Something was different.

You blinked your eyes open and sat up slowly, the ache in your chest blooming before your thoughts caught up. You glanced at the empty space in your bed. The hallway was quiet. Too quiet.

Then—faintly—voices.

You slipped out of bed barefoot once again, heart ticking fast for reasons you didn’t want to name. The air in the hallway was cool against your skin. You padded toward the stairs, one hand on the railing, every step measured like your body remembered how to be careful in moments like this.

The TV was on.

You crept down, slow and quiet, and paused just before the last step.

And there they were.

Danny curled up on the couch, wrapped in his blue fluffy blanket, head resting against a pillow like he’d done it a hundred times before. And next to him, hunched with his elbows on his knees, was Pope. Quiet, still, eyes trained on the screen—but not really watching.

He looked like he’d been sitting there for hours.

The TV played some old cartoon—one of those early-morning classics with soft colors and slower dialogue. Danny was focused, small smile tugging at his lips. Pope looked like he couldn’t breathe without permission.

He didn’t notice you at first.

Not until Danny mumbled something—“That guy’s mean,”—and Pope gave a little grunt of agreement.

Then his eyes lifted, soft hazel meeting yours.

His whole body tensed like he was about to explain himself, apologize, vanish into the walls. But you didn’t say anything. You just stood there, hand on the railing, heart breaking in slow motion.

“He couldn’t sleep,” Pope said softly. “Said he had a bad dream.”

You nodded, trying to find your voice. “He gets those sometimes.”

“I was coming down to make coffee. He was already up.”

“And you turned on cartoons?” you asked, almost smiling.

Pope looked down, a little sheepish. “Figured it was better than silence.”

You stepped off the last stair, legs slow, body unsure.

Danny caught sight of you and beamed. “He knows all of my shows!.”

“Oh yeah?” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “That’s impressive.”

“He doesn’t know the guy with the stick though.”

Pope gave a small, amused grunt. “I got nothing.”

Danny nodded. “It’s okay.”

You stood behind the couch for a second, arms crossed gently over your chest, watching the two of them. The way Danny had unconsciously scooted closer. The way Pope hadn’t moved a muscle, like shifting might shatter the moment.

You circled around and sat on the arm of the couch, your eyes on your son.

“You okay, baby?”

Danny nodded, rubbing his eye. “I’m not tired.”

“You want breakfast?”

“Not yet,” He leaned against the pillow. “I wanna finish this!”

“Okay bossy pants,” You glanced over at Pope. He was looking at Danny like he was still trying to believe he was real. That this whole thing wasn’t some dream he’d conjured behind a motel curtain.

You lowered your voice.

“How long’ve you been sitting here?”

“A while,” Pope admitted. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

You watched him a second, heart twisting in your chest. He looked more human now. Less like a ghost from your past, but still haunted.

He flicked his eyes toward you, voice quieter. “He’s good. You did good.”

You didn’t say anything for a beat. Then you nodded. “Thanks.”

The cartoon kept playing. The sky outside turned a little lighter, and things almost felt normal—Like the past three years had never happened. 

The cartoon kept playing in the background. The sky outside turned a little lighter, and things almost felt normal—like the past three years had never happened.

You sat in the quiet for a while, watching Danny’s eyelids droop again, little body finally giving in to sleep. His fingers still clutched the edge of his blanket, leaning into Pope, knowing nothing about personal space. 

Andrew hadn’t moved, barely even breathed, like one wrong shift might wake him or make you change your mind.

You turned your eyes to him, quiet. “So… are you planning on coming back?”

He looked at you then, really looked, his eyes tired and soft and full of something that made your chest ache.

“Only if you want me to.”

Your fingers tightened where they rested on the couch cushion. You wanted to say yes. God, part of you wanted to say it too quickly. But the rest—the part that remembered the weight of his family, the danger they lived in, the years you spent trying to keep Danny far away from it all—held you back.

“I don’t know if I can let you back into his life like nothing happened,” you said quietly. “Not after everything. Not if there’s even a chance they’ll pull you under again.”

“I wouldn’t let them,” Pope said. No hesitation. Just that low, steady conviction that used to scare you when it was aimed at other people, one you didn’t know if you could believe. “They don’t get to have that power anymore. Not over me, not over you, and not over him.”

You looked at him for a long moment. And whatever was in his face—grit, sorrow, a promise he hadn’t figured out how to say out loud—felt real.

“I want to believe you,” you whispered. “But I need more than words this time.”

He nodded slowly. “Then I’ll give you more.”

Your eyes fell to Danny, his lashes long against his cheeks, chest rising and falling in soft little breaths.

“You scared me last night,” you said. “But not because I thought you’d hurt us, just… well—I’m sure you get it”

“I do,” Pope murmured. “I get it.”

Another long, aching silence stretched between you. Then he shifted slightly, brushing Danny’s blanket up over his shoulder with a gentleness that shattered something inside you.

“I don’t want to blow this,” he said, eyes still on his son. “I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.”

You breathed in slow. Let it out slower.

“Okay,” you said. “Then stay for breakfast.”

Pope looked at you, the faintest flicker of relief in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Just… don’t make a habit of breaking into my house.”

That earned the tiniest smile. “No promises.”

But the tension had cracked. The ice was melting, slowly. And somewhere in the quiet, cautious hope started to grow. The cartoon shifted to the next episode. The sun crept higher, lighting up the kitchen in soft gold.

And this time, it felt like maybe you wouldn’t be facing the morning alone.

mercvry-glow 2025

[oncasette]

𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗡

jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: 1.1k

Your head is spinning. You must be dreaming. There’s no way you’re actually kissing your best friend right now, not quite sure if he’s still your best friend at that moment or not, but not caring enough to pull back and check.

or the one where jj spills his feelings for his best friend.

a/n: i haven't seen s4 and i don't know if i'm going to, but here's this jj fic since i was feeling up for it? question mark? it's all fluff.

masterlist

“Done in there?” JJ calls from where he’s no doubt spread out on your bed. You can’t help the small laugh that trickles out of you as you open the door, still facing the mirror as you finish up your skincare routine. In the corner of the mirror, you catch JJ’s reflection fiddling with a lighter.

“Don’t burn down my bedroom,” you say. He looks up at you, catching your gaze in the mirror. He flips the spark wheel. A small flame erupts, already being bullied down by the high setting on your ceiling fan. 

“What? Don’t trust me?” he smirks. 

“Not even a bit,” you chirp, setting all of your creams and oils back into your medicine cabinet. 

He sets the lighter down on your nightstand. 

“Comfy?” you giggle, watching as he snuggles down further under your plush duvet. You’re glad you made him change, not sure you’d ever get the dirt and sweat from his clothes out of your sheets. He nods, humming. You feel his eyes tracking your movements as you shut the bathroom light off and slide under the covers beside him. It’s almost instantaneous that JJ molds to your side, pushing up your arm in order to lay his head against your shoulder, nose in your neck. You do your best to ignore the way your stomach flutters a bit. 

JJ had always been touchy with you. You like to think that he does it with everyone, that that was just his nature. You’d seen him sling an arm around Pope at the Boneyard, tug Kiara into a hug, spin her around, even, kiss John B on the cheek in some of his more emphatic moments. But, you couldn’t ignore the way he was with you. The lingering touches, the snuggling, the sleepovers, the kisses against your temple. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been out on the HMS without him putting his hat on you. It’s friendly enough for you to brush off, for the most part. For you to push it all down and justify his actions when the rest of the pogues prod you for information. 

It’s moments like this, though–alone, away from prying eyes–that you allow yourself to pretend. Just a little. 

You bring up a hand to his hair and run the tips of your nails across his scalp. He purrs, curling closer into you and you feel his eyelashes brush your skin as his eyes close. 

“‘S it raining?” he mumbles into you. His hand slides over your stomach as he reaches for the hand not currently in his hair. Slowly, nearly leaving goosebumps beneath his fingers, he intertwines his fingers with yours. There’s no way this is platonic. Right? Your brain screams at you. 

“What?” you hum, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. 

“Rain. From the sky. Outside.”

You look at the window.

“Yeah. Yeah, J, it’s raining.”

He smiles, kissing the skin already beneath his lips. That’s new.

“I like the rain,” he chirps, voice surprisingly drowsy for how energetic he’d been before you’d left for your shower. 

“Do you?”

He nods, humming. “Makes everything slow down a bit.”

“I didn’t think you liked slowing down,” you say, your fingers moving down from his hair to ghost over his back.

“I like slowing down when I’m with you,” he shrugs. You feel him shudder slightly when your nails gently scrape across his shoulder blades. “Plus, I look sexy when I’m all drenched like that.”

You snort and smack him on the shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?” he scoffs, head snapping up to glare at you pitifully. 

“Smug bastard,” you laugh. He winks as his lips curl into a fittingly smug smirk.

“You love it,” he says. His hand squeezes yours, still held tight in his grasp. You don’t respond in words, instead opting to squeeze his hand back. You feel his heart rate jump against your ribs. His eyes flicker between yours. The smirk slowly drops into something a little less cocky. Something a little softer. Warmer. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. It’s only when his gaze moves down to your lips that your own breath stutters. That definitely can’t be platonic. 

He whispers your name so quietly you almost don’t hear it. You probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been so close. 

“I think I love you,” he says. What.

“I love you, too, J,” you say, pasting on your friendliest voice to try and ignore the way his breath is now fanning over your face. He smells like the gum he’d stolen from your car.

“No, I mean…” he clamps his eyes shut. “I do love you, like that, like a friend. Of course I do, you’re my best friend-”

“John B’s your best friend,” you cut him off, because there’s no way this is actually happening.

“Listen, just… I,” he drops his head against your sternum, frustration seeming to roll off of him in waves. 

“I’m sorry, I’m listening,” you say softly. 

“I don’t want to keep doing this,” he grunts.

“Doing what?”

“Pretending.”

Pretending.

“Pretending?” you ask, placing a hand on his cheek to pull his gaze back up to yours. You smile softly at the way he nuzzles into your palm. 

“You really don’t see it, do you?” he asks. His eyes are closed, his nose pressed against your thumb. “I thought I was being obvious.”

You need more than these clipped comments. Stupidly, something deeper in the back of your mind can’t settle for even the chance of you misconstruing this. Of being wrong.

“Obvious about what, J?”

“I already told you,” he whispers. He just barely kisses the pad of your thumb. 

“Tell me again,” you beg, holding your breath.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Good,” you hiccup.

“Good? That’s all you have to say? I’m pouring my heart out here, baby,” he huffs and your heart nearly stops altogether. A bewildered giggle slips out of you.

“That’s good because I… uh,” you swallow. “I love you, too.”

He doesn’t answer this time. He slides up the last couple of inches to press his lips against yours. His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, bringing your mouth even harder against his. His other hand squeezes yours for dear life. 

Your head is spinning. You must be dreaming. There’s no way you’re actually kissing your best friend right now, not quite sure if he’s still your best friend at that moment or not, but not caring enough to pull back and check. 

You’d kissed him before. On New Year’s Eve at the stroke of midnight. But, that had been a quick, chaste peck between friends and you’d been able to blame the fireworks behind your eyelids on the holiday, and this. This was different. Much, much different. There were sparks tingling down to the tips of your toes. You pull back when you can no longer justify ignoring your need for oxygen and nearly whine when JJ chases your lips. 

“I’m in love with you.” His voice is hoarse. 

“You said that,” you giggle, brain still a little hazy.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to get me to stop saying it now,” he says. His body weight is almost fully pressed onto you as he ducks his head to place short kisses against your neck. Your fingers find his hair again, combing through the silky strands. You mentally thank him for stealing your shampoo. 

[ovaryacted]

baby girl looking for pope (and reader) out in the crowd during some school event where she's on stage. she's searching so hard and almost starts crying until she finally sees pope being held back by reader because he saw the tears in his baby's eyes and needs to make sure she's okay.

then he turns back around to see her smiling and waving and so freaking happy that he's there. and yeah :)

─ Girl Dad! Pope Cody x fem! reader || WC: 735

CW: FLUFF. Pope being an emotional & dedicated dad. Daughter is graduating kindergarten & 5 years old. Daughter is unnamed. Daughter has Pope's hair, freckles, & eyes (carbon copy). Reader & Pope are married.

Aww, this is such a cute idea, please. Thank you for the little message Simone bae, thinking about Pope who's a little older now being such a dedicated dad makes me super emotional. I hope you like this little blurb. <3

The little girl is nervous, dark auburn curls pinned in a half-up half down hairstyle per her request. Her lavender dress flows down her small body, cutting off right at her knees in lace trim, a pair of fluffy socks and mary janes adorn on her feet. She remembers when she went on a shopping trip with her mom last week for this particular outfit, beaming the minute she grabbed it off the rack and threw it in the cart with dignified confidence.

It was the youngest Cody's kindergarten graduation, lined up on stage with several other kids for an award she doesn't fully understand she got. Her head turns over the crowd of people in the audience, trying her absolute hardest to find her parents amongst the sea of unfamiliar moving faces. Her brain works overtime to track down the head that shares the same hair as her, to see the familiar scowl that nobody other than her father wears.

She tries so hard, even squints as she tirelessly looks and looks and looks. To no avail, she hasn't seen the faces of her parents, of the people who came to this event with her, the people that would bring the moon and stars closer to Earth just so she could see them better. Before she realizes it, the corner of her eyes begin to sting as tears threaten to pour down her cheeks. She wrings her hands together, the anxiety bubbling in her body making her knees tremble as she swallows a cry, fully convinced her caregivers had disappeared into thin air and forgotten all about her.

She was close to wailing until she heard a familiar voice, the voice of her mother, warm and welcoming as it always was from the second she was born. The 5 year old's wet eyes gravitate towards the noise, finally spotting the face of her father who wore furrowed eyebrows and was halfway from rising from his seat.

"Andrew, you can't." You had one hand on his broad chest in a feeble attempt to calm him down. He only huffed a shaky breath, a growl settling in the back of his throat.

"She's crying up there. She can't see us." Pope mutters sharply, looking at you with worry in his eyes.

"She'll find us. She's a smart girl, she knows Andy. Trust her, okay?"

Andrew eases back down in his seat, focusing on trying to get his daughter's attention. He'd want nothing more than to bring his little miracle into his strong arms where she belongs, to wipe her tears away from her freckled face and tell her everything was going to be alright, that her father was here and had no plans of leaving her behind. But he knew the last thing he needed to do was lash out on such a special occasion.

He bounces his leg a few times, his knuckles turning white from gripping the armrest of his seat too tight, close to splitting the wood when his gaze is mirrored with his twin up on the stage, hazel meeting hazel.

In an instant, the little girl calms down, her frown flipping into a bright smile. Her round cheeks perk up at the sight of her parents at her first graduation, bringing her hand to swipe the remaining tears that ran down her face. She waves at her father then, and he waves back, the corner of his lips flexing upwards and nodding towards her, the love in his eyes consuming the remaining space in that room.

You reach down to squeeze Andrew's hand in reassurance, giving the calloused flesh an affectionate squeeze. His thumb runs over your wedding band, aimlessly playing with the gold as you both watch your baby girl walk the stage once her name was called, bursting in light shouts of claps of acknowledgement that got her attention and widened her toothy smile.

Andrew's eyes refuse to leave his daughter's face until she's sitting down with the rest of her classmates, exhaling in relief, antsy to hear his baby's voice again and hold her once more after all of this was done. But for now, he’ll sit and patiently wait until she’s running up to him, holding her certificate in her hands to show him. And he’ll shower her with all the praise she needs to remind her he’s here to stay, and his heart belongs to her.

©️ ovaryacted 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

i care for you still

ex bf!jj maybank x fem!reader

cw — talks of a breakup, both cry, fluff, kissing, angst, implied sex

summary — after a few months, you finally decide to talk with jj one on one.

a/n — idk why jj just popped back up into my mind but i wrote this in like 20 minutes so excuse me if its garbage. please request though!!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

it’d been months of tense hangouts with the pogues, months of jj moping around, and months of your friends begging you to just talk to him. you’d tried multiple times but he was stubborn. every conversation somehow ended with you two back to the same topic of your past relationship.

it wasn’t that you didn’t love jj anymore, you were sure part of you always would. he was your first boyfriend, first love, first kiss, first time, first everything. he’d always have part of your heart. he was the one who taught you real love.

but there was that saying that went “you can’t love someone else if you don’t love yourself,” which couldn’t be more true. you couldn’t pin why or when it started, but you slowly started to lose yourself. your mental health began slipping, you hated looking in the mirror, and you wanted to do nothing else but rot in bed.

in turn, you started pulling away from jj which only hurt him more than you knew. it broke your heart, and it broke even more to have to break up with him. but you couldn’t just string him along when you knew you weren’t in the right state to be in a relationship.

after you’d done it, the two of you took a break from the pogues in fear you’d have to see the other. in the early months, it felt like you’d never get over him and the thought of having to see him only made your heart ache more. thankfully, you still had sarah and kiara to keep you company while he had pope and john b.

after a while, you both began hanging with the group as a whole. it was always tense and awkward but you still tried to enjoy it and not make it weird for your friends. on the odd chance that you were alone with him, he’d always bring up your relationship and ask where it went wrong.

once he’d received no real answer the last ten times, he just stopped asking. he had realized maybe it was better that he didn’t know. he’d heard rumors of you messing with other guys and he wasn’t sure he could take it if he found out you were truly with someone else.

this all brought you here at the chateau with your friends. you all were sat on the porch, besides jj who was sat in the hammock with a can of beer in his hand. you were completely zoned out and definitely not listening to the argument between john b and kiara about micro plastics.

you sighed and took a sip out of your bottle of water before getting up to use the bathroom. “be right back,” you told the others as you stood and opened the front door to go inside. you toed past the small piles of clothes on the floor and picked up some empty cans on the way to throw out.

you headed into the bathroom and turned on the sink, pressing some cold water on your skin to cool off before washing your hands and looking at yourself in the mirror. you chewed your lip anxiously as you just stared.

you had to have been in there for a few minutes, maybe five if you had to guess. then there was a knock and the sound of kiaras voice. “we’re heading out to get some more beer. you want anything?” she asked, slightly muffled through the thick wood.

“no, i’m okay,” you replied quickly knowing you definitely didn’t need to be drinking heavily tonight. you heard her mumble a quick goodbye before her footsteps got louder and the sound of the front door echoed through the empty space. you dried your hands on the towel behind you then made your way back through the house.

you stepped outside onto the porch, freezing when you were met with jj. “thought you went with them,” he said awkwardly after clearing his throat. his body stiffened and his hands fidgeted with one another.

“uh, no,” you stammered just as awkwardly. “i was in the bathroom.” you didn’t even know why you said that. he didn’t need to know that and he probably didn’t care either.

he shook his empty can in his right hand. “we’re out of beer,” he explained almost as if he were letting you know why he was up on the porch in front of you. the last thing he needed you thinking was that he was some weird stalker.

you nodded. “i heard,” you said and stepped aside to allow him to walk past you and into the house. he quickly walked inside and to the fridge in search of something. “are you okay?” you blurted out as you followed him in even though you most likely knew the answer.

“fine. you?” he replied bluntly. he knew you weren’t stupid and he knew you were definitely onto him. he closed the fridge door and leaned against the kitchen counter to look at you.

you frowned slightly at his cold attitude. “i’m sorry, jj,” you said softly. “i’m sorry about the way i treated you.”

he bit the inside of his cheek and crossed his arms over his chest, looking off to the side for a second to gather his thoughts. “why’d you do it?”

you almost chose to play stupid for a second and ask what he meant but you’d had this conversation one too many times to not know what he meant. only this time, you intended to finish it. “i was scared,” you began timidly. “i wasn’t doing good and i was scared to hurt you.”

“but you did,” he replied just above a whisper. the air was thick with tension and the house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop and every floorboard creak.

you pursed your lips into a thin line and nodded sadly. “i know. i thought breaking up would make it easier instead of dragging you down with me,��� you said with the same softness in your voice as his. “but it didn’t and i hurt you. and i’m sorry for that.”

his eyes bored into yours, his once energetic, bright blue eyes now a more dull, tired shade. “why couldn’t you just talk to me about it? i coulda helped you.”

you could hear the shake in his voice. the conversations never really went this far, usually stopping the moment they started because you just couldn’t handle it. and here you were, beginning to choke up. “because i didn’t wanna bother you,” you stated.

“it wouldn’t have bothered me, you know that,” he said, uncrossing his arms and instead placing them behind him on the counter. “i woulda wanted you to talk to me if somethin’ was up. i coulda been there to help you or at least support you.”

you bit your lip nervously and looked down at your hands, now beginning to pick at your cuticles. “its hard to talk about,” you muttered. “i jus’ didn’t feel good about myself and i couldn’t put that on you.”

he let out a shaky breath. “i woulda done anything for you,” he whispered. “i jus’ wanted to be there for you.”

you heard the soft sob that slipped past his lips. the two of you were reopening old, unhealed wounds now and the unshed tears that had been pushed down for months were beginning to finally surface. you finally looked back up to his face, him already looking at you with tears in his eyes. “do you want a hug?” you asked gently.

when he didn’t reply, you took cautious steps toward him to give him an opportunity to back out before wrapping your arms around his neck. you immediately felt his arms lock around your waist tight and him crane down to bury his face into the space between your shoulder and neck.

his body shook with sobs as he cried into your t-shirt. it only made your heart break more and in turn, you felt tears finally fall down your cheeks. “i’m really fucking sorry jj,” you mumbled through your wobbling voice.

“it’s okay,” he sobbed, squeezing you a little tighter against him. “i forgive you. i forgave you months ago.”

you frowned and closed your eyes, just savoring the moment between you two. it felt like the world went silent for a moment. like it was just you two again. you missed this feeling and by the way he was clinging onto you, you assumed he did too.

you two stayed like that for another minute before he finally began to pull away slowly, still keeping his hands firmly holding your hips. your arms stayed linked around his neck with how close the two of you remained. “gimme one more chance,” he mumbled, his intense gaze staring right into you.

you closed your eyes and sighed. “jj—“

he cut you off. “please, sweetheart. i don’t want you to be alone. whatever you need, ’m here. i jus’ wanna be here for you.”

“you can’t fix me,” you replied honestly. “this is something i need to do on my own.”

he thought for a moment before nodding. “thats okay. you can do it alone. i’ll jus’ be here to support you.”

you felt your bottom lip wobble and your eyes burn with tears. you’d never really had someone like jj who stuck with you through your stubbornness, someone who continued offering help even when you consistently denied and subconsciously began to self sabotage. “i don’t wanna dump all my problems on you.”

he wiped the drop of liquid that ran down your cheek with his thumb before taking both your hands in his own. “don’t worry about that. just worry about you, ok? i got the rest.”

you shook your head. “that’s not fair to you, jj.” you leaned your forehead against his chest to hide your face when you felt more thick tears fall silently.

he brought one hand up to cradle the back of your head while the other intertwined your fingers. “if it means you’ll feel better, then i don’t care. i just wanna help you. trust me, ‘m gonna be fine.”

you immediately began to melt when you felt his hand play with your hair softly. you couldn’t say no to him, you never could. this was the man you were completely and utterly in love with and even after putting him through so much, he was still this soft with you. how could you just move on?

pulling away from his chest, his hand moved from the back of your head to your cheek, cradling it in his large palm. his thumb lightly traced your cheekbone as he searched your eyes for any negative signs, anything to tell him what he was about to do was wrong.

when he found absolutely nothing, he surged forward and pressed him lips to yours. you sighed into the kiss, months of longing and passion poured into one simple movement. his other hand moved from yours to your hip inside, squeezing lightly at it and pulling you closer so your body was pressed to his.

“fuck, i missed you,” he mumbled against your lips before kissing you again, slipping his tongue inside and moving his hand that was once on your cheek to your neck to gently press at the sides. you felt a little lightheaded at the action in the best ways possible.

the kiss was slow and passionate, something you’d missed so desperately about being with jj. he didn’t often rush things like this. he preferred to take his time and make you feel all woozy and worked up.

you could feel him begin to get slightly antsy, unsure of what to do with his hands. you chose to grab the one on your hip and slide it down lower. he instinctively brought the other one down as well and cupped your ass before laughing against your lips when you whimpered.

once the two of your finally needed to catch your breath, panting and mingling your breaths, he smiled cheekily. “how ‘bout we make up for lost time?”

you couldn’t help but return the same smile. “i think i like that idea.”

he wasted no time in grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting you up, heading straight for the guest room he claimed as his own.

[shortnspidey]

TORNADO WARNINGS

JJ Maybank x fem!kook!reader || WC: 3.2K

SUMMARY: After a tense encounter with his father, JJ’s anxiety spirals out of control. Seeking solace, he turns to the only person he seeks the comfort of, but the newfound relationship, still tender and fragile, is tested by the intensity of his emotions. As the storm rages outside, a more profound storm rages within JJ, leaving him lost and uncertain.

WARNINGS: Established relationship, talks of anxiety, fear of storms, touch starved JJ, self-deprecating thoughts, implied parental abuse, heavy angst with a happy ending!

A/N: Should I have been working on my homework instead of writing this ... probably but I couldn't help myself! We're also going to pretend the ending of OBX 4 did not exist! Divider by @marvelstoriesepic

➩ main masterlist

➩ jj maybank masterlist

based on this request!!

Kildare Island was no stranger to storms. They were as much a part of the island’s identity as the weathered pilings and the salty sea breeze. But this storm was different. The salty wind whipped through the narrow streets, carrying with it the scent of impending rain. As the sky darkened, a sense of unease settled over the island. For JJ, the storm outside mirrored the tempest brewing within him. A recent argument with his father had left him feeling raw and exposed.

His mind, once a carefree ocean of thoughts, was now a tumultuous sea, each wave of anxiety threatening to drown him. Ignoring his father's parting words, likely a stinging rebuke, JJ slammed the door shut, the echo of his anger filling the silent house. Stepping out into the storm, he was oblivious to the rain soaking his clothes and the distant rumble of thunder, a harbinger of the chaos to come. With one final, lingering glance at the house that had never truly felt like home, he turned away, his determination resolute.

He strode towards his battered motorcycle, the keys igniting with a defiant roar. As the engine roared to life, he disappeared into the night. In reality, he had no idea where he was going. The Château was out of the question; John B and Sarah were likely seeking shelter together, and after his last unexpected encounter he had walked in on, it was best avoided. Pope was probably grounded, a consequence of their latest escapade. And Kiara's parents, would not welcome him with open arms.

Which left only one option, a risky one at that. You. JJ still couldn’t quite believe he had managed to convince you, a Kook, to talk to him, a Pogue, let alone spend any significant amount of time with him. Much less how he had managed to become your boyfriend. Your worlds were as different as night and day. You were the embodiment of grace and poise. He, on the other hand, was a reckless and impulsive force of nature, a product of his upbringing, raw and untamed.

Yet, there was an undeniable connection between you, a magnetic pull that drew you together despite your differences. Almost as if it was muscle memory, or maybe it was his subconscious, he pulled up to your house, a mix of anticipation and dread filling his chest. Your family’s grand, imposing home stood in stark contrast to the weathered houses of The Cut. It was a world apart, a world he didn't quite belong in. That's when he felt it. The rush of anxiety he believed to be gone immediately resurfaced, the familiar knot tightened in his stomach.

Placing a hand on his chest, the only way he had ever learned to self-soothe, he tried to get as much air in his lungs as he could. He didn’t know if it was the rain, the storm, or the thought of facing you looking like a complete wreck that was the cause of his state. The tension in his shoulders, the knot in his stomach, and the rapid beating of his heart were all signs of the anxiety that threatened to consume him. "JJ?” A voice cut through his thoughts, startling him.

He looked up to see your father standing on the porch, a few feet away. It was as if his brain had played a cruel trick on him, conjuring up a figure from his worst nightmares. He immediately stopped his pacing and stiffened, expecting insults or even a physical altercation. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned to face your father, his eyes scanning the man's face for any signs of anger. He'd learned early on to anticipate the storm before it hit, to brace himself for the inevitable. But it never came.

Instead the eyes of the man in front of him softened, taking in his disheveled appearance. "What are you doing out here so late?" Your father asked, his voice laced with nothing but sheer curiosity. "I-" JJ's voice trailed off, completely caught off guard by the unexpected kindness. He'd always been wary of your father. Of course, your relationship was still new and "meeting the parents" was never really brought up. However, in this moment, he saw a different side of the man, a side that hinted at empathy and understanding.

"C-Can I please see Y/N?" He had managed to stammer out, barely recognizing his own voice. This was it. This was the moment your father would shoot him execution style on your front porch. But for the second time that evening, JJ was surprised to see your father opening the front door and turning back to him. "What are you waiting for, son?" Your father coaxed, gesturing towards the open doorway. "You'll just get sicker the longer you wait out there." His tone was gentle, almost paternal, something JJ was not used to.

JJ hesitated, taking a cautious step forward as if expecting a trap to snap shut. "Y/N should be upstairs," Your father continued, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "If I had known you were coming over, I would have set an extra plate for you at the dinner table." JJ's jaw dropped. Could he have heard that right? Was your father actually inviting him to join the family for dinner? It was a surreal moment, one that he couldn't quite comprehend. Just as he was about to thank your father for his unexpected kindness, your voice cut through the silence.

“JJ?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make the blonde boy freeze. He turned slowly, as if afraid that looking at you too quickly would shatter the illusion that you were really standing there. His face softened the moment your eyes met, his lips parting, trembling with emotion. “H-Hey, pretty girl.” He tried to sound casual, but the words wavered. His heart thundered against his ribs, a frantic, uneven rhythm he couldn’t slow down no matter how hard he tried.

The bags under his eyes were deeper, the once-playful gleam in them dulled. The instinct to hold you burned hot in his chest, but he faltered. Your father’s presence loomed just behind you. But you didn’t hesitate. Before he could blink, you were in his arms, crashing into him like a wave against jagged rock. Your arms locked around his neck in a hug so fierce it stole the air from his lungs. The weight of your body pressed into his, grounding him, anchoring him when he felt like he’d been drifting for days.

“You’re shaking.” You whispered against the shell of his ear, your breath warm despite the chill seeping from his skin. You pulled back just enough to see his face, your hands resting firmly on his arms. His skin was ice cold, his jaw clenched like he was holding something in. “Is everything okay?” He couldn’t lie. Not to you. Not when you were looking at him like that, eyes wide with worry, like you’d break in half if he said what he really felt. So he offered a nod, small and stiff, and forced the corners of his mouth upward.

“It is now.” The words barely made it past his throat. They felt foreign, like they belonged to someone stronger. Your father cleared his throat, his voice low but steady. “You’re in good hands, son. See you both in the morning.” JJ nodded respectfully, though his eyes never left you. You turned back to your father, offering a soft, grateful smile, before reaching for JJ’s hand. With that, you led him up the stairs, one step at a time, your fingers entwined like they were the only things holding him together.

And maybe they were.

As he entered your room, JJ's eyes drifted across the space. There were little pieces of you everywhere, dog-eared paperbacks stacked messily on your nightstand, jewelry and makeup askew on your dresser, a half-burned candle with a cracked lid, and the framed photos on the dresser. He lingered by the doorway for a moment, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his soaked jean shorts. He’d never been in your room before and this felt oddly intimate. “You know,” You began, breaking the silence as you shut your bedroom door with a soft click.

“I’m really glad you’re here.” He turned to face you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Me too.” He replied, his voice barely a whisper. You exhaled a shaky breath and started pacing, the wooden floor creaking beneath your bare feet. “I just wish you didn’t do it in the middle of a storm." You muttered, glancing out the window where lightning carved jagged paths throughout the night sky. He watched you closely, watched the worry that creased your brow, the way your fingers curled slightly at your sides like you were trying to hold something in.

JJ swallowed hard, guilt gnawing at the inside of his throat. You crossed the room and yanked open a drawer, rummaging through the contents before holding out a bundle of clothes, your favorite oversized t-shirt and a pair of well-worn sweatpants. “Strip.” JJ blinked, stunned. For a second, he was sure he’d misheard you. His entire body froze, eyes wide as your words finally registered. You. The same girl who turned bright red at a single flirtatious grin and at any sexual innuendos thrown your way.

Who once tripped over a chair trying to avoid walking in front of him shirtless at the beach. You were telling him, no, commanding him to get undressed? His mouth opened and closed again, brain lagging behind. “W-What?” He croaked, clutching the clothes you shoved into his chest like a lifeline. “Why?” You rolled your eyes, but there was a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Because you’re drenched and shivering, JJ. I’m not letting you catch pneumonia on my watch. Plus,” You added, reaching over to give a light tug at the wet denim clinging to his leg.

“Those shorts are stiff enough to stand on their own. These,” You said, motioned to the sweatpants. “Are way more comfortable.” Before he could object again, you turned your back to him, arms crossed again, giving him the space to change without pressure. JJ hesitated, his fingers tightening around the dry clothes. His heart was still racing, not from embarrassment anymore, but from the overwhelming surge of emotion swelling in his chest. He wasn’t used to being cared for. And somehow, that scared him more than any storm outside.

He changed quickly, trying not to drip too much water onto your rug. When he finally pulled your sweatshirt over his head, he froze. It smelled like you, warm, sweet, safe. Like home. “I’m done.” He said softly, voice hoarse. You turned slowly, eyes scanning him with a tenderness that made his throat tighten. The sweatshirt hung loosely on his frame, sleeves swallowing his hands, and the pants were baggy, the waistband tied in an awkward knot. He looked completely out of place, and yet, utterly right.

You stepped closer and without thinking, reached out to smooth the damp strands of hair from his forehead. “There,” You whispered, more to yourself than to him. “Much better. Now, let's get you warmed up." JJ followed wordlessly, letting you guide him to the edge of your bed. The mattress dipped slightly beneath his weight, the soft comforter whispering against the fabric of his borrowed clothes. “Get in.” You ordered, a playful glint in your eye, leaving no room for discussion.

He hesitated.

For a heartbeat, he just stood there, caught in the quiet war inside his head. He didn’t know what scared him more, being close to you, or knowing he needed it so badly. But eventually, he climbed in, slipping beneath the blankets and tugging them up to his chin like some part of him still needed armor. You sat beside him, legs tucked neatly beneath you, your presence bringing a strange calm that wrapped around him tighter than the sheets ever could. “I’ve missed you.” The admission was barely a whisper, but JJ heard it like a thunderclap.

His breath caught in his throat. He turned his head slowly, eyes finding yours in the low light.“I’ve missed you too.” He declared, voice hoarse but honest. A fragile silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that spoke more than words ever could. You scooted a little closer, your body heat radiating through the space between you, and gently tucked a strand of damp blonde hair away from his eyes, those ocean-blue eyes you adored.

JJ’s body moved before his mind caught up. One arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close, holding you as if letting go might break him open entirely. His grip was firm, almost desperate, and you felt it, the unspoken ache in his touch. “Penny for your thoughts?” You whispered, barely audible above the storm outside. You tilted your head just enough to meet his gaze again. His silence had stretched longer than usual, he stiffened slightly, and you immediately regretted asking.

JJ looked away, his jaw tightening, throat bobbing with the weight of words he wasn’t sure he could voice. He wanted to tell you everything. But fear rooted him in place. You were everything he wasn't, everything he longed for. You were kind, understanding, and patient. While he had grown up in a world of violence and neglect, a world where love and affection were a foreign concept. His father's abuse had left deep scars on his soul, shaping him into a man who was both fiercely loyal and deeply troubled.

He was afraid that if you knew the real him, the broken, damaged version, you would turn away. He could feel your fingers gently tracing circles into his back, the rhythm soothing, patient. Still, his breath was uneven, shallow. He couldn’t look at you. He was afraid that you would see him for what he truly was: a lost boy, a product of a harsh and unforgiving environment. Your eyes never left his face, watching as his brain worked a mile a minute, eyes distant, jaw locked tight. You’d seen that look before, a vulnerability he rarely let anyone see.

It was a stark contrast to the bravado he usually exuded, the tough-guy facade he’d built as a defense mechanism. But you knew there was more to him than that. Although your relationship was new, you’d quickly realized that you had fallen for the boy beneath the bravado, the one who made you laugh, who saw you for who you truly were. But you knew there were parts of him he was keeping hidden, secrets buried deep within. You don’t deserve her, the voice in his head hissed. She’ll leave when she sees what’s underneath. He took a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so fucking scared, Y/N,”

“Scared that if you knew the real me, you’d leave. You’d realize you deserve better.” His eyes, usually so full of life, were now clouded with doubt. Your heart ached for him. You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours under the covers. “JJ, whatever you’re going through, I’m here for you. No matter what.” You coaxed, hoping that your words were enough to dwindle the storm brewing in his mind. Because you desperately believed that JJ Maybank deserved the world. He looked at you, disbelief and hope warring in his eyes. “You mean that?” You nodded, your voice steady. “I do. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

Like a dam that was waiting to collapse, he broke down into your arms, his sobs muffled by your shirt. You held him tightly, stroking his hair as he cried, the tears soaking your shoulder. In those minutes, which felt like decades, his walls collapsed, telling you each one of his darkest truths as if he had been given a truth serum. He poured out his heart, revealing the hidden scars of his past. The boy you'd fallen for, the one who'd always seemed so confident, was now raw and vulnerable, exposing the depths of his pain.

You listened, your heart breaking for him with each passing second. You knew that his childhood had been far from perfect, but you had never imagined it was this bad. You held him as close as you could, offering silent comfort. "I'm so sorry, JJ." He nodded, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm trying to move on. I'm trying to be better." You smiled at him, your heart overflowing with love and compassion. "You are better, JJ. You're strong, and you're kind. And I'm so lucky to have you. Why would I want anyone else when you're perfect in my eyes."

That's a first he thought to himself. JJ had been described as many things, reckless, impulsive, and even dangerous. But never perfect. He was overwhelmed by your words, his heart filled with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. Which is why those three words and eight letters tumbled out of his lips before he could overthink them. "I love you." He didn't care if it was "too early" the look of pure adoration on your face was reassurance enough that he hadn't fucked up the timing. "I love you too JJ. You have no idea."

Upon hearing those words he surged forward meeting your lips, gently but with a passionate purpose. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but quickly deepened. There was a desperation to it, not lust, but need. A yearning to connect, to be known and accepted. It was everything he couldn’t say, poured into one tender, searing kiss. His fingers threaded into your hair, your hand curled at his jaw, anchoring each other like you were afraid to let go. He'd spent his life being told he wasn't good enough, that he'd never amount to anything.

But in your eyes, he saw something different. He saw love, acceptance, and a future filled with endless possibilities. As the kiss deepened, he felt a surge of emotion, a love so pure and profound that it seemed to defy all odds. Something he thought was a fever dream he would never get to experience, yet here you were. In that moment, he knew that he'd finally found his home, his safe space, and the love he'd always dreamed of. When you pulled apart, both of you breathless, you pressed your forehead to his, eyes fluttering closed.

You reached up and began running your fingers through his hair again. As the minutes passed, the tension melted from his frame. His breathing slowed, deepened. "Get some rest, JJ. I love you." You breathed out, burying your face in his shoulder. The blonde boy didn't hesitate to reciprocate an "I love you too" before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. As the minutes ticked by, JJ felt the storm that had once consumed his thoughts begin to dissipate. Holding you close, he allowed himself to finally drift off into a peaceful sleep.

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[sunshinehaze1]

Sizzlin’

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Your friend convinces you to attend a BBQ at her boyfriend’s friend’s house. The last thing you expected was meeting Frankie.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. meet-cute, drinking (beers), slight dubcon (both reader and Frankie have had 2 beers, Frankie checks in), f!oral (it is Frankie, duh!), protected PiV, no use of Y/N

a/n: This was written for @yxtkiwiyxt’s NHIE Challenge. I received the prompt, “Never have I ever slept in someone else’s bed.” I LOVED this challenge and this was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my beautiful beta reader @80ssong 🥰

word count: 5,176

ao3 | ml

"Come on, his friends are really hot!"

Sabrina has been bugging you to attend a BBQ with her boyfriend's friends this weekend. They've been dating for over a year, and you've hung out with him a few times, but his golden retriever puppy energy can be overwhelming. He's a great guy, though, and he makes her happy. You're thrilled your closest friend has found someone who treats her right.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not looking to date right now."

"Who said anything about dating?" your friend counters. "You could just have some fun."

You brush her off at the suggestion. "Please, will you just come? His friends are a lot of fun."

Finally, you relent. "Ok, fine, I'll go. It's not like I had any plans this weekend anyway."

Sabrina lets out a delighted squeal and wraps you in a bear hug. "Perfect, I'll send you the address and meet you there at 3."

"Should I bring anything?" you ask as you walk your friend to the door.

"They're simple guys. Beer will do just fine." Sabrina waves goodbye and closes the door behind her.

—

With the address in the GPS and a couple of six packs in the passenger seat, you begin your drive. You're nervous about being in a new place and meeting new people, especially those who are "really hot." It's early fall in Florida, so you can still get away with wearing a sundress. The heat won't take a break for at least another two months, so you wear your favorite one to boost your confidence. "Fake it til you make it," right?

You pull into a quiet neighborhood. The streets are lined with older homes shaded with mature trees, dripping in Spanish moss. The GPS pings as you approach your final destination, and you park on the street in front of a one-story brick home with a driveway full of pickup trucks and Jeeps.

Before you exit the car, you take a final look in the rearview mirror to adjust your hair and ensure your makeup hasn't melted off. Taking a deep breath, you grab a six-pack in each hand and head toward the house.

—

"Pope, for fuck's sake!" A broad-shouldered man, who fills the entire door frame, swings the front door open just as you reach for the doorbell. Your arms flail in surprise, and you fumble to keep the beer from crashing onto the pavement.

"Oh, shit." the man startles. "Sorry about that; I was just going out to get something from my truck. Here, let me help you with those." His calloused hands brush over yours to grab the cartons from your hands.

"Um," you stammer. "Thank you." Sabrina definitely wasn't exaggerating. Benny's friends are hot—at least this one is.

You take him in, starting with broad shoulders covered in a washed-out maroon t-shirt underneath a chambray button-up. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his sinewy forearms. You notice a small bullseye tattoo on his hand resting between his thumb and index finger. A ballcap with an unfamiliar logo sits atop a mop of brown curls, which peek out in the back. His eyes are a rich brown; crinkles form at the corners when he smiles wide, dimpling his right cheek.

You follow him inside the house. He sets down the beers and extends his hand to greet you. "I'm Frankie. You must be Sabrina's friend."

"It's nice to meet you, Frankie." His strong hand wraps around yours, and you introduce yourself.

Frankie quickly excuses himself and heads back outside to his truck.

—

"HEEYYYYYYYY!!!" you hear Sabrina sing-song as she walks into the house from the backyard. "You made it!" She greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. She whispers in your ear teasingly, "So, I see you've met Frankie."

Shyly, "Yeah, we met. Almost lost a few beers in the process."

"I'm so glad you made it!" She drags you behind her toward the backyard. "Let me introduce you to everyone else."

You were surprised to see only Benny and two other men outside. This was a more intimate gathering than you had realized, immediately putting you at ease.

Sabrina introduces you to your host, Santiago, or "Pope," as you soon learn. Benny is two for two on the handsome friend count. He's shorter than Frankie, has dark hair and features, a broad smile, and a gregarious personality.

Next, you meet Benny's older brother, Will. Blonde hair, blue eyes, much more reserved than his brother. A strong, silent type. He seems content to be in his own world while he attends the grill.

You hear the grind of the sliding glass door behind you. Frankie walks through the threshold, waving a stack of folders in the air. "Got 'em!"

"My man!" Santiago slaps him on the back, "Thank you."

With his mission accomplished, Frankie finally has a chance to take you in fully. His gaze travels the length of your body, taking in your soft features and plush curves and admiring the cut of your dress, which perfectly accentuates your breasts, hips, and ass. The short length leaves your bare legs on full display.

—

The backyard is beautifully appointed with sable palms, hibiscus bushes, and a well-manicured lawn. There is a jacuzzi to the right of the grill, which doesn't surprise you; Santiago seems like a lady's man. No bachelor pad would be complete without a jacuzzi. Adirondack chairs encircle a small fire pit in the back corner of the yard. You reckon it only gets used during the short window when it is cold enough in Florida to have a fire and not melt.

"Food's almost ready," you hear Will call out.

Sabrina looks to you. "Come help me get the sides?"

You follow her back inside to the kitchen.

"What did I tell you?" Her eyes widened. "They're all hot, aren't they?"

You respond with a shy smile, "Yeah, you weren't lying."

She nudges her elbow against your arm while holding a bowl of potato salad. "I saw Frankie checking you out."

"You…" stammering out skeptically, "…no way?!"

"Yes, way! You look hot in that dress; why wouldn't he check you out?!"

You attempt to conceal your smile by focusing on the tiled floor. "He does seem nice."

"Oh, honey, he's not just nice! He's sweet, funny, and gorgeous," she whispers conspiratorially, "And it looks like he's packing some serious heat."

"Sabrina!" you scoff, playfully smacking her. "You're not supposed to be checking out your boyfriend's friend's package!"

"Says who? I can look, and you can touch to prove me right." She leaves you speechless, holding a tray of crudites, as she walks back outside, cooing to the boys that it's time to eat.

You make your way to the table with bench seats on either side. After you set the tray on the table, you take a moment to contemplate how to sit without exposing yourself in your short dress. Slowly, you lift your leg to straddle the bench, but your sandal catches, and you're thrown off balance. You brace yourself for an embarrassing fall until you feel strong forearms wrap around your waist to hold you steady. Frankie walking by at just the right time.

"Whoa, you alright there?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." sheepish and embarrassed, "Thank you."

He grabs your hand and says, "Here, let me." You begin your second attempt at climbing over the bench, flattening the back of your dress underneath you before you sit down.

Frankie looks down at you. "Would you like a drink?"

"That would be great, thank you." Anything to wash down the embarrassment and cool off from the heat of Frankie's touch.

He fishes out a bottle of beer from the cooler. Out of your periphery, you ogle him as he's bent over. His shirt stretched across his back, rugged khakis taut over his ass. You're suddenly much thirstier than you thought.

He returns to the table and sets the bottle before your plate. You feel the warmth radiating from his chest against your back, his bicep less than an inch from your face. A slight turn of your head and your nose would be in his armpit. You hold your breath, afraid that if you let yourself breathe in his scent, you'd succumb to the physiological response. That and the fear of getting caught sniffing a man you just met in front of his closest friends tempers your impulse.

Frankie sits across from you while the rest of the group sits around the table. Serving platters are passed around until the plates are full.

Frankie finds himself distracted by your sweetheart-necklined dress as everyone begins to eat. The hem curving over the top of your breasts, meeting in the middle at a point, which draws his attention to the tease of cleavage. He's completely ignored the clamor of conversation around him. Suddenly, a baby carrot lands in his lap, and he's brought back to the present. "Hermano, did you hear what I said?"

Frankie stumbles a response, "What's that?"

"Malo." Santiago shakes his head and huffs a laugh, "Pretty girl in front of you, and you lose all sense."

You feel the attention of the table shift to you and quickly avert your gaze, picking at the food on your plate and fixating on the pattern that outlines the rim of the dish. Your cheeks heat from the eyes burning into you. You're cautious about looking up to gauge Frankie's reaction; you don't want to become even more flustered.

Frankie flings the carrot back at Santiago, "Shut the fuck up, man!" But he's quick enough to bat it away before it hits him. The rest of the table erupts with laughter, allowing the awkwardness of the moment to dissipate, and you and Frankie join in.

Will asks, "So, how long have you and Sabrina been friends?"

You're thankful for the segue. "We lived on the same street growing up in Orlando. She followed when I moved to Tampa a few years ago for work."

Sabrina chimes in, "Yeah, you wouldn't make it here without me!" You both giggle.

"Sabrina tells me you all served together in the Army?" the men nod in unison.

They briefly share how Frankie, Santiago, and Will met in basic training. Benny joined their unit a couple of years later. They share minimal details about their deployments, not wanting to dredge up too many memories of that time, especially with new company present.

They've all retired from the Army and returned to civilian life. Will tours the state, speaking with personnel considering retirement from service. Santiago runs a security firm where Benny works. Benny is also an amateur MMA fighter, which Sabrina isn't fond of, but even she can admit he's really good. She's even told you that watching him fight does turn her on.

Lastly, you learn that Frankie has transitioned to civilian piloting and leads helicopter tours of the Bay. He has a four-year-old daughter, Lila. When he talks about her, his eyes sparkle. Clearly, she is the light of his life.

You hesitantly ask about her mom. You're nervous that this guy you've developed a crush on in a short period isn't single. "We split up over a year ago. It wasn't working, and we can be better parents to Lila this way."

You're impressed with Frankie's maturity and self-awareness, which enable him to have an amenable relationship with his ex. As a child of divorce with parents who were unable to put their grievances aside, you know how vital co-parenting is for a child. "I'm glad you could figure out what works best for you both and Lila."

Frankie nods before he takes a swig of beer. You watch as his thick fingers wrap around the bottle's neck. You're fixated on his throat; his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the bitter IPA—the prominent vein on the side of his neck, with moles that dot along his tanned skin.

You and Frankie have been in a bubble. The friends surrounding you have been long forgotten as your conversation flows naturally. He has a calming presence that makes you feel comfortable and at ease. He's confident and funny, with a raspy laugh that takes over his whole face and radiates through him and a smile so broad that his eyes disappear.

Subtle flirting has become more overt. Your hands brush against his when you reach for the bowl of chips at the same time. You accidentally bump into him when you stretch your legs in front of you underneath the table. But he doesn't pull away, the rough sole of his shoe brushing gently against your bare leg. You glance at him with a sheepish grin, and he returns with a toothy smile. Fuck, he is handsome. Your eyes remain locked on each other, heat coiling within your body, and you sense the same in Frankie.

"I'm going to grab more ice for the cooler from the garage." Frankie stands up from the table, his eyes silently communicating to follow his lead.

As you get up from the table, you take his cue and ask, "Do you need any help?"

"Yeah, that would be great." A sly grin emerges. "Thanks!"

Frankie follows you through the door, his hand brushing softly against the small of your back. The contact sends shivers down your spine, and your pulse quickens as you feel his warm palm against the thin material of your dress.

"Garage is this way." Frankie guides you down the hall to the right of the kitchen.

When you turn the corner, Frankie is immediately on you. He is unable to hold back a second longer. He has you pinned against the wall, his arms bracketing you above your shoulders. Hunger swirls in his eyes, and you feel his breath against your cheek. He's so close to you that you're sure he can hear your heart beating.

"You are so god damn pretty." his finger trails along the strap of your dress and loops underneath, "And you're fucking killing me with this dress. I needed to get you alone."

A sigh escapes your lips, overwhelmed by his closeness and his touch on your bare shoulder. Unable to speak, Frankie fills the silence. "Can I kiss you?"

All you can manage is a nod, your bottom lip held between your teeth in anticipation.

He leans forward until his plush lips connect with yours. A moan escapes you both at the contact. What begins as a sweet, chaste kiss quickly becomes more intense.

He licks at the seam of your lips, seeking permission to enter. The bill of his hat hinders him, but he quickly flips it around to devour your mouth fully. It's a flurry of tangled tongues as he licks into your mouth. A groan escapes him when you grab his bottom lip between your teeth. A gentle nibble quickly soothed by the swipe of your tongue.

With his arm around your waist, he pulls you closer to him, the weight of his bulge pressing against your thigh. You feel wobbly even though you're sandwiched between Frankie's solid frame and the wall, forced to grip his shoulders for purchase to remain upright. Your fingers map the sinew of muscle along his traps and deltoids as he dives in for another kiss. Which somehow leaves you even more breathless than the last one.

The feverish kiss continues as he pulls you further down the hall. Twisted limbs tripping over each other, bumping into the walls, leaving picture frames askew. Spurts of laughter echo through the hallway as you fumble around, fingers tangled in the fabric of each other's clothes. His wide palms rest against your hips before snaking around to grip your ass cheeks. You can feel the slick arousal pool in your panties.

Emboldened by the drinks you had earlier and Frankie's attention, you suggest finding somewhere more private.

Frankie growls and grips your wrist, taking you further down the hall until you reach a threshold with a closed door. His arm reaches behind you to turn the knob, and you both fall into the dimly lit room. Dark curtains are draped in front of large windows, and the setting sun peeks through the gap in the fabric where they meet. You and Frankie stumble your way further into the room, hands groping manically over each other's bodies.

You slide Frankie's button-up shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Then, you tug the T-shirt underneath from the waistband of his pants. His hands travel under the hem of your dress, his fingers dimpling into the supple flesh. He shuffles you toward the bed and tosses you against it, giggling as you flail backward onto the soft mattress.

"Fuck, I could get used to that sound." he huffs.

Propped up on your elbows with one leg crossed over the other, you give him a coy smile. Frankie's eyes burn with lust as his gaze trails up your bare legs to your core. "I'm going to need you to open up, baby."

You slowly uncross your legs and spread them into a wide v. Frankie watches you intently, eyes focused on the pull of your dress up your thighs exposing the gusset of your panties, enraptured by the blooming wet spot caused by your arousal.

He hums as he falls to his knees. Leaning into your center with a deep inhale. "Fuck!" His palms warm on your thighs, his eyes pleading, "Can I?"

"Can you what, Frankie?" you tease.

"Can I taste you?" a desperate tone to his voice, "Please?"

You nod, and he's on you within seconds. His fingers slip into the sides of your panties, and you lift your hips so he can pull them off. Your slick folds glisten in the soft light of the room. "Fucking gorgeous cunt."

"Frankie, please."

"I got you. I got you."

The swipe of his tongue through your folds emphasizes his reassurance, and you cry out with relief. The whiskers of his beard brush against the sensitive skin. Frankie moans into your core as the sweet, musky taste of your arousal dances across his tongue. A sample is not nearly enough to satisfy him; he dives in for more.

Desperate for better access, he spreads your thighs further apart, pushing your legs up until your thighs meet your stomach. He holds you down with his palms flat against the back of your thighs. He leaves a wet trail along your skin as his arousal-soaked lips slowly kiss up and down your thighs. A gentle bite on your ass cheek sends a jolt of surprise through your body that you can't help but squeak out a laugh.

You can't even recover before the tip of his tongue journeys across your outer folds, looping around to the other side before sliding through your seam again. Up, up, up until he reaches your clit. His lips wrap around your sensitive nub. Sucking it into his mouth, lapping kitten licks with the tip of his tongue. Your body writhes below him, pulsating need coursing through your veins.

You reach between your legs, eager to feel any part of him, and yank the hat off his head. You fling it behind you, where it lands on the floor with a thud. His gorgeous hair is now unencumbered, your fingers free to roam through his soft curls. You grip the brown locks between your fingers and pull him further into your pussy, his nose bumps against your clit as he eats at you. "Fuck, frankie, you're incredible."

And he is. He really is. The best head you've ever experienced. Somebody who was a stranger just a few hours ago. You can't recall the last time you've been with such an enthusiastic lover. Especially one that is so wanton, eating at you, bringing you intense pleasure, and not making you feel like its a chore or an obligation.

You practically had to beg your ex to go down on you, and when he did, he expected you to return the favor. It never was about your pleasure. Frankie is different. He eats at you like it's his only way of survival, as if he'll die if you don't come by his tongue.

He groans into your cunt, shockwaves pulse through your body, at the precipice of your orgasm, "I'm so close."

Frankie, seeking relief from his painfully hard cock, reaches down to unfasten his pants. He releases his cock from his boxer briefs with a sigh. With a swipe of his hand, he gathers the precum that has leaked from his tip to coat his cock before he begins slow strokes up and down his length while he continues to devour your pussy, suckling at your clit. You're near the edge, ready to tumble forward as your legs shudder, the grip on his locks tighten. Your pussy begins to flutter around his tongue as you tumble over the edge, coating it in your release. "Frankie. Holy shit." you try to catch your breath. "Oh my god."

You lift his head from between your legs, and he reluctantly pulls away with a disappointed whimper. "Too much." you pant, "You're too fucking good at that."

Between your thighs, a crooked smile appears through his slick lips and his glossy eyes connect with yours, "Fuckin hell, you taste good."

Frankie moves from the floor and crawls up your body. The weight of his cock resting against your worn out pussy. He leans down to kiss you, leaving a trail of nibbles along your jawline until he reaches that soft spot behind your ear. Licking and sucking down the column of your neck to where it meets your shoulder. His tongue swipes along your collarbone as he slips the straps of your dress down your shoulders to reveal the lacy cups of your bra.

His lips traverse the plane of your chest, hot breath hovers over the supple skin spilling out of the cups. He grips the fabric of your bra between his teeth and pulls down one cup and then the other to release your tits. He lathes over each nipple, pulling the hardened buds between his lips, flicking them with the tip of his tongue before a gentle bite and releasing with a pop.

You emit a low moan at the combination of his mouth on your tits and his dick sliding through your soaked folds, the tip brushing against your sensitive clit.

"You're so beautiful." Frankie shakes his head in disbelief. "Do you want to keep going?"

As if it were even a question. Of course, you want to keep going, but you appreciate Frankie's check-in. You grabbed his head between your palms and brought him closer, eyes locked on his, sealing your enthusiastic "yes!" with a feverish kiss.

With that, Frankie sits back on his haunches and searches the room. He knows he doesn't have a condom in his wallet. He hasn't needed one in a while. Even if he did have one, it would have expired anyway. As he becomes more acquainted with his surroundings, he slowly realizes where you are and breathes out, "Fuck!"

You sit up in bed, holding the top of your dress against your chest. "What's wrong?"

"We ended up in Pope's room." he runs his palm over his face, scratching the whiskers of his chin. "And I don't have a condom."

You push aside the inevitable embarrassment you'll face for fucking in your host's bed and suggest with a mischievous grin, "Surely, Santiago has condoms."

The distraught look on Frankie's face disappears with a broad smile, and he shifts on the bed to open the nightstand drawer. When he opens the drawer, a Costco-sized box of condoms greets him. Relief washes over him, and he's grateful he doesn't have to cut things short with you.

He reaches into the box and pulls out a foil pocket. You lean back, propped up on your forearms to admire Frankie as he tears open the package between his teeth while stroking his cock with his other hand. Sabrina will be happy to know she was right. His cock is beautiful. Thick, long, and uncut. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him roll the condom down his length. His eyes never leave yours.

"Don't worry. It'll fit; I'll go slow." He reaches up to the neckline of his shirt, gripping its back and pulling it off in one smooth motion. "Lay back, baby."

He positions himself back over you. The broad expanse of his tan chest blocks the view of your surroundings. Not that it matters anyway; all of your attention is on Frankie. Captivated by his gorgeous face and the moles that scatter along his neck and sternum. You've already forgotten you're in Santiago's room, about to fuck this beautiful man, on his bed. He leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips as he notches his tip at your entrance.

"You ready?" You nod, eager to feel him inside you.

It's been so long since you've had sex and you've never had a dick as large as Frankie's. As promised, he took things slow, feeding his cock inch by inch. Allowing time for your body to adjust before going further. There's a pleasurable stretch as your walls accommodate his girth and length as he reaches the hilt, kissing your cervix. "Pussy is just swallowing my cock, baby."

"It feels so good."

"Yeah?" He searches your face for any sign of discomfort. "You ready for me?"

"Yes! Fuck me, Frankie!"

Frankie pulls out until just the tip rests at your entrance. You whimper at the loss of him inside you, but he quickly soothes you with a thrust of his hips into you, pushing you further up the bed. He pulls out slowly, repeating the motion a few more times before he lands on a steady pace that has you seeing stars. "Hnngh, she's so tight." he moans, "Fuckin hell!"

"Harder, Frankie." you pant louder than you anticipated, "I can take it! Please, fuck me harder!"

Frankie slows his thrusts and quickly closes his palm over your mouth, "Shh. Shh. You gotta be quiet."

You hear the din and laughter from the backyard. You had been so distracted by Frankie's dick, you forgot you weren't entirely alone. "If I move my hand, can you be quiet?"

You nod. Frankie reignites his pace with more fervor this time. The tension built up over the afternoon finally comes to a head. Low moans rumble through you with each thrust. Your legs wrap around his hips.

"That's a good fucking girl." He reaches between your bodies to thumb at your clit. "I feel you squeezing me. Need you to come for me."

You scramble to reach the pillow behind you and hold it over your face to muffle your scream as you begin to pulse around his cock. Frankie continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his own imminent. It only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into the condom before he collapses onto you, breathless.

Your fingertips trail along the plane of his back and shoulders as his cock softens inside you. He peppers feather light kisses along your cheek before he reaches your lips and seals it with a searing kiss.

He pulls away to scan your face. "How are you feeling?"

"Perfect. Fucking incredible, Frankie"

—

You and Frankie sit together at the edge of the bed in your half-dressed, disheveled, fucked out state. The two of you savoring the afterglow of an incredible fuck and also delay the inevitable for as long as possible. You rest your head on Frankie's bare shoulder and express your embarrassment at a whopper of a first impression with his friends.

Frankie reassures you that it isn't that big of a deal. He kisses you gently on the temple and encourages you to get up so you both can rip off the bandaid. He scoops your dress up off the floor, and you flit around looking for your panties and bra while stealing glances at Frankie as he gets dressed.

When you're finally presentable, Frankie opens the bedroom door, motioning for you to go before him. As you head down the hallway, you're greeted with a chorus of cheers and slow claps.

"So, where's the ice?" You hear Benny boom out.

The group erupts in laughter, and you bury your face into Frankie's bicep. Standing next to Benny, Sabrina catches your eyes. With her palms facing each other, she subtly moves them closer and further apart, eyebrows quirking up. You avert your eyes to avoid her silent inquisition. You won't be able to handle her smugness over being correct about Frankie's size right now.

Frankie turns bright red while he stomachs pats on the back from his friends. Santi grips Frankie's shoulders from behind with a shake. "'Bout time you cleared out those cobwebs, hermano. But did it have to be on my fucking bed?"

—

You head back outside with the group for one last drink. Sabrina approaches you with a smile and wraps her arm over your shoulder to follow the guys. Another round of drinks is passed around, and fortunately, the topic of conversation has shifted quickly from your dalliance with Frankie.

Frankie sits next to you at the table, his thigh pressed against your bare skin.. He rests his hand just above your knee, offering a gentle squeeze. When you look up at him, his gaze focuses on you, and he smiles warmly.

The sun set a few hours ago, ushering in chillier air. Frankie notices you shiver. He pulls off his button-up and places it over your shoulders, returning his hand to your bare leg. You lean into him, savoring his warmth.

A few hours pass before you decide to call it a night, and Frankie offers to walk you to your car.

"It was really nice meeting you." You catch him nervously rubbing his hand against the back of his neck.

You grab his hand and squeeze, "You too, Frankie. I had a great time."

He smiles at this. "I'd love to see you again. Take you to dinner."

"I would love that!"

When you reach your car, you exchange numbers. With your back pressed against the door, Frankie's arm propped against the frame, he leans in for one last kiss. He squeezes your hip before he pulls away to open the door for you and as you turn to enter your car, he teasingly smacks your ass.

Before he shuts the car door, he offers, "Drive home safe. Let me know when you get home."

"I will." You nod. "I'll see you soon, Frankie!"

Frankie waits until you drive off before he turns to go back inside. A wide smile stretched across his face. A smile that won't be going anywhere any time soon. He's excited to find out what the future has in store for him, especially if that future includes you.

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

tagging some folks who engaged in my WIP posts on this fic: @peepawispunk @burntheedges @joelmillerisapunk @baronessvonglitter @ak-vintage @probablyreadinsmut @goodwithcheese @almostempty (please let me know if you’d like to be removed)

[itsthecline]

best potluck ever

ex-pogue kook!reader x jj maybank

summary a few months before they actually start dating , jj and y/n hook up. it’s her first time , his first time with her , and funnily enough it was just how she always imagined it.

warnings profanity , underage drinking , use of marijuana , loss of virginity , smut ( unprotected pinv , fingering , oral f!receiving , titty sucking ) , sex under the influence ( this is still consensual y’all ) , secretive hookup

18+ minors dni

it was yet another bonfire night. john b decided to invite you , kie , pope , and jj over for a hangout. it was a weekly potluck sort of thing that your friends did once a month. you had bonfires more than that , but these potlucks were a little more organized than your usual hangouts.

you brought the drinks : beer , ciders , a bottle of fireball , and water. kie showed up with food and snacks filling her bag to the brim , knowing you’d all get the munchies at some point. jj supplied the weed. pope brought a few movies , and john b had started the fire up just before you all arrived sporadically.

“do you ever think about how in another world we don’t know each other?” jj wondered out loud , lying in the hammock with you as he passed the joint over to kie.

you kicked him lightly , rolling your eyes. “fuck off — us being friends is inevitable. in every universe,” you replied , not wanting to think about not knowing your favorite people. john b threw an empty beer can at jj in protest too.

“i mean , there’s potentially infinite universes. what are the odds this is the only one we’re all friends in?” pope added in , sipping on his drink slowly , eyes focused out on the water that reflected the setting sun.

“do you ever think about how in another world we’re probably enemies? statistically,” kie joked , making fun of jj and his existential question. he usually brings them up , if not pope. you sighed , pushing yourself out of the hammock with slight struggle and help from jj.

all of your friends eyes followed you as you walked to the chateau. “where you going , lava girl?” jj questioned , the only one to actually need to ask.

you looked over your shoulder and gave him a look. “dude , i’m gonna go waz. leave me alone?” you laughed , turning back to the house before hearing a thud , oomph , and then footsteps. “what do you want?” you asked , walking into the house and to the bathroom as you hear john b call out after the two of you, no mackin’!

“i gotta go too,” he shrugged.

“well , you can only come in if i can hold it,” you joked , pulling your shorts and going to the bathroom while jj waited in the doorway. jj takes your place as you wash your hands before following your actions.

“you look really pretty right now,” he admitted , turning to face you as he put the towel down. your eyes were glossy , slightly red. your cheeks were flushed from the fire outside and the liquor in your system. you laughed , pushing him away and walking back towards the door. “no! really , you look pretty,” he repeated , grabbing you before you could go.

“you’re drunk , j. knock it off.” you didn’t mean it. hell , you would take every single compliment jj ever gave you.

jj just smiled at you , keeping you up against the wall , trapped in his arms. “y’know what we haven’t done in awhile?” his voice sounded like trouble.

“what haven’t we done in awhile?” you whispered back , smile mirroring his. he was infectious.

before you even got the chance to ask the question again , jj was leaning in , planting his lips on yours. it took you by surprise ; it had been awhile , but you melted into his arms , kissing him back. you reveled in the feeling for as long as you could before pulling away. “you’re drunk,” you sighed.

a scoff left jj’s mouth. “i’m drunk , yes. you are too , and you’re really pretty,” he explained , pressing kisses onto your face lovingly, “really , very , truly pretty.”

“you’re obsessed with me,” you giggled , moving his face in front of yours to peck his lips once more before dipping under his arms and out the front door. your friends were obviously waiting for you two to get back , seeing the defeated look on jj’s face just gave them the answer they were looking for.

“shot down again , folks!” jj lied , pumping his fists in the air while you laughed and took your spot back on the hammock next to kie , who had taken jj’s spot.

the rest of the night was filled with drinking games , a movie , and eating all of the snacks kie brought. pope passed out on the porch. kie took residence on the couch. john b went to his room , and that left you and jj alone outside , knowing the spare room was for him.

“do you wanna go to bed too?” you questioned , watching john b turn his bedroom light off for the night , leaving the sizzling fire to be the last source of light for you — well , that and the blunt.

jj leaned his head back , getting comfortable. “do you?” he hummed , not bothering to open his eyes.

“well , it would be nice to not get eaten up by bugs for the rest of the night,” you shrugged. maybe he didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you. maybe you shouldn’t have asked. “but i can crash on the couch with kie. it’s not a big deal,” you rushed to add in.

he opened one eye , peering over at you. “why would you do that?” he was right. why would you do that? every time you had ever spent the night at john B’S it was in the same bed as jj. “what? do you hate me now?” jj jested , nudging you lightly to knock you out of the headspace you were in, “you get so overthink-y when you smoke.”

“it’s only when i smoke your weed , jj,” you corrected , sitting up in the hammock, “it’s your fault i am the way i am right now.”

“what way are you? pretty?”

oh , he’s still on that too. “stop it , jj,” you laughed , trying to stay quiet so you don’t wake pope up. as you were fighting his compliments once again , jj moved around sloppily to play next to you rather across. “what are you doing?”

“we’re stargazing,” he whispered , pulling you close under his arm, “just relax.”

you loved how special you felt when he noticed your anxiety or nervousness. he never pointed it out to be mean , but he made sure to make you feel better in some way. usually by making you laugh , but sometimes it was a gentle squeeze.

“i am relaxed,” you huffed , rolling into his side more — disregarding the stars altogether, “i relax when i’m with you.”

jj tilted his head back a little more , hiding his smile from you the best he could. “you’re my best friend , y/n/n.”

you craned your neck to look at him ; you knew you were best friends , but it was nice to actually hear it. his eyes were still on the stars twinkling in the sky , and from this angle , the fire was settling a soft glow on his skin. he was perfect.

“even though i’m a kook now?” you were slightly kidding. deep down , you know nothing would come between you and jj’s friendship , but the boy did have a strong distaste for anyone who lived on figure eight.

“even though you’re a kook now,” he reassured you softly.

you push yourself up , placing your hands on his chest so you could really , truly look at him. “you’re my best friend , too. just so you know,” you smiled , getting him to finally look at you when you moved.

“yeah?”

“in the whole world,” you added with a nod , catching his eyes flicker to your lips. its was quick , but you saw it.

he knew you knew what he did. he wasn’t slick about it. he didn’t mean to be slick about it. and the moment he saw you repeat his actions , he leaned in. you didn’t hesitate this time , kissing him back as soon as you felt him shift. “maybe we should go to bed,” jj mumbled against your lips , agreeing to your earlier question. you giggled , pulling away after one more quick kiss and nodding.

“lets go to bed,” you whispered , maneuvering out of the hammock and turning to hold your hand out to jj with a smile. happily and willingly , jj got up too , goofy smile on his face as you tug him into the house. he followed up closely behind you , kissing at your neck and chuckling as you shushed him.

you both stumbled into the bedroom that was claimed as jj’s. your lips were on each other as soon as the door closed xx slowly moving toward the bed. “so pretty,” jj muttered yet again , stopping when the backs of your knees hit the bed frame.

“so are you,” you giggled back , raking your fingers through his hair. you often did that when you two were hanging out , but this felt different.

jj pulled away first , helping you settle into the bed before climbing over you and kissing at you neck. one of his hands grabbed at your thigh , pulling your leg over his hips as he thrusted against you. you couldn’t help but let soft moans escape your opened lips. “gonna make you feel so good , baby,” he slurred out , coming back to face you and kiss your lips once he was happy with the marks he’d littered across your skin.

his hand continued moving up your body , stopping every now and then to caress you slower , trying to lock the feeling into his mind forever. all you could manage to do was whine in response , hips thrusting up to meet his with more fervor. that’s when he moved that wandering hand to the front of your bikini bottoms , feeling the damp patch that had started to form and rubbing you through the cloth.

you whispered his name , not knowing what you were asking him off , but he simply kissed you. “this okay? we can stop if you want to,” he questioned , slowing down his ministrations almost completely. your eyes were still closed , cloudy head filling nothing but want.

“keep going , please,” you spoke so softly , jj almost couldn’t hear you , but it’s when you opened your eyes and looked into his that he knew he wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

“yeah,” he mused , pinching the fabric and pulling it to the side, “i’ll keep going for ya. only because you used your manners though.” jj’s smile alone was killing you ; the way he cocked his head to the side ever so slightly. this had to have been heaven. but as he slowly , gently slid a finger into your begging entrance , you realized you were wrong. that was heaven.

your eyes closed yet again , head falling back into the pillows you had stacked on the bed when you realized how often jj was crashing here. his hand kept moving , pulling all the way out and twisting back in as far as he could , reaching the perfect spot. “fuck , jj!” you moaned , far louder than you expected to. his free hand shot to cover your mouth.

“gotta be quiet,” he reminded you , sliding his hand to your cheek to kiss you again, “can you be quiet for me , baby?” you nodded into the kiss , grinding into his palm when he added another finger.

you were a virgin , yes , but you had touched yourself before. almost every time was to the thought of jj. the real thing was so much better. he reached deeper , stretching you out further than you had ever done yourself. “harder , please , j?” your voice was a whisper this time , listening so well.

his hand shifted , doing as you asked while he watched your face twist into a new form of pleasure. “i’ll give you whatever you want,” he promised , shifting lower until his lips could plant deep kisses into your thighs, “god , you’re so fucking tight,” he ogled just before moving his mouth onto you , tongue rolling around your throbbing mound, “want you to cum for me. please , baby?”

it was like the last thing you needed to reach your peak was jj’s tongue. it worked around your clit as his fingers slid in and out of you leaking pussy. “jj!” you whimpered , trying to move your hips he had pinned down with his other arm, “gonna — fuck , i’m gonna cum!” you warned him , but he didn’t slow down ; he didn’t change what he was doing. he just held you closer and kept going. he didn’t stop his own hips from grinding into the mattress ; only when your body deflated and a strangled moan came out did he slow , coming up for a breath.

“taste so fucking good,” he exhaled , kissing your thighs and gently pulling his fingers from you. you were still catching your breath , lips tingling from your orgasm when you opened your eyes and saw jj licking his fingers off and undoing his belt. “will you take this shirt off for me , please?” he asked running his hand up your stomach until he reached your face , thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “huh?”

you decided in that moment. you would never say no to jj maybank in your life. you nodded , sitting up a little to pull your his shirt off of you , leaving you in your bikini as he ripped his own shirt off with you.

“prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. swear to god.” his eyes raked over your body , taking in ever detail before moving to slip your bottoms off. you shifted , helping him out as you untied the knot at the back of you neck. a groan left jj’s mouth , head lolling back for a second before he reached forward , filling his hands with your now bare tits. “holy fuck!” he grunted , grinding against your puffy core again and leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth.

“mmh , jj?” you spoke softly , pulling at his hair to lift his head up with failure. his eyes locked with yours , mouth still sucking at you when he nodded for you to go on. “will you fuck me?” tears were in your eyes from the pure euphoria your body was taking on , and you were moving your hips in time with his , begging for more.

jj pulled himself away from you and sat up on his knees. “i can do that,” he chuckled , pulling his pants and underwear down before clumsily kicking them off his legs the rest of the way. he situated himself between your legs again , stroking himself as you eyed him.

you had felt him hard before. you had an idea of how big he was. “fuck,” you sighed , taking in how much bigger he was than you expected, “jj—“

“we need a condom?” he cut you off , sure he could find one somewhere in the house if you said yes. you shook your head , still foggy and wanting. his smile appeared again as he moved to cover your body with his , lips meeting yours again. his hand guided himself to your core , and he let out the faintest whimper when his tip caught your soaked entrance.

jj pushed into you , only a little bit , slowing to take in the sounds you were making for a moment. your eyes caught his again , and that’s when he shoved himself all the way in , burying into your cunt until his hips were pressed flush against yours. “fuck , baby. feel so good,” he grunted , pulling out and pushing back in harshly a few times before your hands shot down and held his hips back and a squeal came from your lips.

“wait—“ you gasped out , his hips complying with your hands despite the ability to continue if they wanted.

“what’s wrong?” jj worried , not moving in or out , scanning your face for an answer, “did i do something?”

“no , no! it’s just — i , uh , i’m a virgin,” you blurted out , hands moving to cover your face in embarrassment, “i’msorryishouldvetoldyou.”

jj’s eyes softened to their natural , sweet state as he looked at you. “y/n , i’m sorry. i didn’t know,” he apologized , slowly pulling out of you, “it’s no biggie ; i mean , i’ll just make it special-er you,” he chuckled , pressing light kisses to your hands until you moved them.

your cheeks were red , burning at the fact that this was happening. why wouldn’t you tell him before? “you still wanna?” you questioned , surprised that he was okay with you lying to him. well , omitting facts.

“do you?” jj echoed gently. you nodded , smile coming to your lips again. “then hell yeah i still wanna.” he laughed as quietly as possible and kissed you again, “you’re my dream girl ; of course i still wanna.”

you two stifled your laughs together , your hands snaking around his neck and pulling him into you. “you can go again , now. i’m ready,” you admitted , planting two kisses on his lips with a smile.

jj nodded , goofy little smile on display before reach down and guiding himself to you again. he slid his cock through your folds , smacking your clit a couple times before running through you again. “jj,” you whine , wanting him to do something now that you were ready again.

“be patient,” he demanded , holding back his own moans as he continued sliding himself over your slick, “i’m gonna give it to you. promise.” a promise he sealed with a kiss.

and just when your lips locked again , he slide all the way in nice and slow. you groaned into his mouth , biting his lip. “fuck , jj!” you moan , back arching from the bed as he thrusted into you deeper than he had earlier tantalizingly slow.

“ah , quiet. remember?” jj hummed , stopping to emphasize his point, “can’t do this if we get caught , baby.” one of his hands came up to your mouth , and you naturally opened your lips to take his fingers he held up. your tongue swirled and sucked them as jj started moving his hips again.

you moaned around his fingers , your own finding purchase in the bedsheets. jj removed his fingers from your mouth and used the lubricant to rub against your swollen clit. you yanked him down into another kiss , needing to muffle your cries somehow. it was getting harder to keep them discreet.

“so fucking close , jj. don’t stop,” you begged , looking at him with wide , glassy eyes.

he groaned in response , sitting back on his heels and gripping your hips. “fucking cum on my dick , baby,” he grunted , moving you at his own whim to fuck you on himself, “please.” his voice was whiny as his thighs started to shake , feeling his own orgasm approaching. your back arched further off the bed , your shoulders your only support as you gushed around him , forcing his cock out of you and your hips to fall back on the damp sheets.

“fuck , fuck , fuck!” you cried , no longer bothering to control your volume. jj moaned out with you , hand jerking himself off over your stomach. he came on your skin before crashing over you , head falling into your neck as he grunted again.

“oh my fucking god.” jj’s voice was deeper , raspy as he caught his breath. he pulled out of you and rolled to his side. “fuck you’re amazing,” he chuckled , moving the hair from your face to kiss your cheek.

“that was—“ you blew air out at a loss of words.

“you fucking squirted,” jj awed , sitting up on his side and rubbing you leg, “did so good for me. lemme get you cleaned up , baby. stay here.”

you nodded lazily , still coming back down from your high. you could feel the wetness soaking into the mattress below you , sending a chill up your spine. in a minute jj had darted to the bathroom for a towel and back in , slowly closing the door behind him.

“feeling okay?” he checked in , starting to clean your stomach off with the towel.

“best potluck ever,” you confirmed.

not proofread but i will edit it after i come out with the next part<3

[sunsetmade]

His Wife

Rafe Cameron x Pouge! Reader

Summary: Years after the pouges ditched her, she runs into them at a store now happily married and pregnant.

Part two of ‘His Pouge’

The boutique was quiet—serene in that curated way only high-end places ever managed. Soft jazz drifted from a speaker tucked somewhere near the ceiling, blending with the subtle scent of lavender, linen, and something faintly citrusy. Light spilled through the front windows, warm and hazy, casting golden stripes across the hardwood floors.

She moved slowly through a rack of sundresses, fingers trailing along the fabric. The cottons and linens were all in muted pastels—easy, summery pieces designed for carefree afternoons. But she wasn’t shopping for carefree. She was shopping for comfort. Something light enough for the heat but forgiving enough to stretch with the quiet changes happening beneath her skin.

Nothing fit quite like it used to. Her stomach was growing every day since she found out she was pregnant. Her body was changing. Her life was, too.

She plucked a pale blue wrap dress from the rack and held it against her front, tilting her head in the mirror’s direction. The cut was simple, feminine. It would do.

Then the door chimed behind her.

She didn’t startle. Not outwardly. But her shoulders went still, that old tension curling along her spine like muscle memory.

Voices followed.

“I’m telling you, Kiara, this place screams your name.”

“JJ, every boutique screams my name, apparently.”

She didn’t turn. Her gaze lingered in the mirror, watching the pale blue fabric sway slightly in her grasp. Even after all these years, that tone—breezy, sarcastic, familiar—hit somewhere low in her chest.

Another voice joined in, this one deeper, more grounded. “Just keep her away from the shoes, man.”

Pope.

She exhaled softly, folding the dress over her arm. It had been years. But somehow, their voices still sounded exactly the same. Like the Outer Banks summers they used to own together.

“Holy shit.” Kiara’s voice drew closer. “Is that you?”

Slowly, she turned.

Her smile was calm. Polite. The kind of smile that said: I’m okay. I made it.

“Hey.”

JJ blinked, then let out a surprised laugh. “No way. Didn’t expect to see you here. Still in town?”

“Yeah,” she nodded once. “Still here.”

John B tilted his head, giving her a slow once-over. “You look… different.”

“I would hope so,” she said lightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s been what—four years?”

There was a pause.

Kiara took a step forward. Her gaze dropped briefly to the swell of her stomach, then back up again, her face unreadable except for the slight press of her lips. The same look she’d given her the day they stopped speaking—like she was a disappointment Kiara didn’t quite know how to mourn.

“Glad to see you’re doing better,” Kiara said, voice warm on the surface but edged underneath. “And, like… not with Rafe anymore.”

JJ snorted. “Yeah. That was a hell of a plot twist back then. Rafe freaking Cameron?”

She didn’t answer right away. Let their words stretch and settle.

Then, without comment, she lifted her left hand.

The sunlight caught the diamond immediately—large, unmistakable, sitting pretty and solid on her ring finger.

JJ’s smirk faltered. Pope’s eyes flicked toward the door like maybe he wanted to walk out of it. And Kiara… Kiara froze. Just for a second. Her jaw slackened the tiniest bit before she smoothed her expression back into something neutral.

“Oh,” Kiara said flatly. “You’re still with him.”

“Married last fall,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “Happily.”

The silence that followed was sharp and sudden. Heavy like the ocean before a storm.

She didn’t bother filling it. She didn’t need to. Instead, she turned, dress still draped over her arm, and made her way toward the register with slow, unbothered steps.

Their presence faded behind her like background noise. Forgotten voices in a life she no longer belonged to.

⸻

She got home just as the sun began to dip low behind the trees, casting a rich, golden glow over the porch. The kind of light that made everything feel a little slower, a little softer. The cicadas had started their evening hum, and the wooden steps creaked beneath her feet as she climbed them, key already in hand.

Inside, the house smelled like lemon cleaner and warm laundry. Like home. Lived-in, safe, steady.

She closed the door behind her and kicked off her sandals, letting her bag slide from her shoulder onto the entry bench. Her body ached in that quiet way it always did these days—subtle changes, small adjustments—but the second she stepped into the hallway and heard his voice, it all melted.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Rafe called out from the kitchen, casual and warm like always. “We’ve got leftover pasta or leftover pizza. Very gourmet.”

She smiled, already feeling lighter. “I vote pizza.”

He appeared a few seconds later, stepping into the living room with damp hair and no shirt, sweatpants slung low on his hips, bare feet silent against the floor. His buzz cut was still wet from the shower, and a towel hung forgotten over one shoulder. He stopped mid-step when he saw her, like she caught him off guard—even though he always looked at her that way.

And just like that, the tension in her chest cracked open.

“Hi, baby,” he murmured, already moving. His hand rose instinctively to cup her cheek as he leaned in, his lips pressing slow and warm against hers. “You okay?”

She didn’t answer right away. Just hummed into the kiss, letting her hands settle lightly on his chest. “Mhm. Just… weird day.”

He didn’t push, just wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in tight, hands spreading across her lower back like he was grounding her. “Tell me.”

She rested her cheek against his shoulder for a beat before pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.

“I ran into Kiara,” she said softly. “And the rest of them.”

He stilled, his jaw tightening just slightly beneath the softness in his expression. “What happened?”

“They acted like I was some ghost from the past. Said a few things—assumed we weren’t together anymore. JJ made a joke. Kiara had that tone again.” She shrugged, her voice gentle, like the sting had already passed. “I showed them the ring. That ended it.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but his focus stayed on her, eyes scanning every inch of her face like he was checking for invisible bruises. “Did they make you feel bad?”

“No,” she said honestly, shaking her head. “Not even a little. They don’t know me anymore. And that’s not my fault.”

He exhaled slowly, his grip on her not loosening, just steadying.

“They’re fucking idiots. I just hate that they even made you feel like you had to prove anything.”

“I didn’t do it for them,” she said softly. “I did it for me.”

That earned a faint smile from him—small but proud. His fingers brushed a piece of hair from her face, tucking it carefully behind her ear. “Of course you did.”

She glanced down, then reached for his hand and guided it gently to her stomach. It wasn’t a bump yet. Not really. But it was real. It was hers. Theirs. And sacred.

“They don’t know about her,” she said quietly, eyes not leaving his. “Didn’t say anything. Didn’t feel like I owed them that.”

Rafe didn’t say a word. He dropped to his knees in front of her without hesitation, hands resting at her hips, gaze leveled with her belly. He bowed his head and pressed his forehead gently against her, just below her navel, like it was an altar.

“Hey, baby girl,” he whispered, voice low and reverent. “Sorry your mom had to listen to a bunch of idiots today.”

She smiled down at him, one hand sliding over his buzzed hair, fingers threading gently through it. He closed his eyes at the touch, exhaling like her affection was the only thing that mattered.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice even lower now, “you’ve got your mom’s heart. That’s all you’ll ever need.”

Her breath caught. Her throat went tight.

He kissed her stomach. Then again. And again. Each one slower than the last, more tender, like a promise sealed into skin.

When he finally looked back up at her, his eyes were glazed with something heavy and aching and full of love. He stayed on his knees for a second longer, just watching her, like he needed to memorize everything about this moment.

“You okay now?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

She nodded slowly. “I’m always okay with you.”

He rose, pulling her into his arms again, slower this time. He kissed her deeply, deliberately. Like he meant it. Like he always did.

Later, after she changed into one of his old t-shirts and curled up under the sheets, he joined her—warm and quiet, skin soft and sun-kissed. He tucked himself around her from behind, arm draped across her waist, hand splayed protectively over her stomach.

His nose brushed the back of her shoulder. His breath was slow and steady.

And just before sleep tugged him under, he whispered into the dark:

“They don’t know what they gave up. But I do. And I’m never letting go.”

⸻

The late afternoon sun spilled honey-gold light across the quiet coastal restaurant, the kind of place where time seemed to slow down. String lights twisted around the whitewashed columns, swaying gently in the ocean breeze, and the scent of fresh bread and salt air drifted from the open kitchen windows. Seagulls called distantly overhead, but all she could hear was Rafe’s voice—and his laughter, low and warm, always for her.

They’d eaten outside, tucked into a cozy corner booth on the patio, half-hidden by a row of potted palms. Her shoes were kicked off under the table, one of his feet resting lightly against hers. Their hands stayed tangled beneath the tabletop most of the meal, brushing softly, fingers lacing together like second nature.

Rafe hadn’t looked anywhere else all night.

Even when she was squinting at the dessert menu like it held the answer to life itself, her lip caught between her teeth and brow furrowed in debate, he just stared—like she was the only thing anchoring him to the moment. Like nothing else around him even existed.

When she finally gave up on deciding, standing with a soft sigh and a hand on her stomach, his fingers immediately found hers. The other slipped around her waist, easy and instinctual, as they strolled out together. No rush. Just warm air, the smell of citrus trees, and the soft sound of her laugh.

“I still think we should’ve taken that chocolate cake to go,” Rafe murmured beside her, lips brushing the edge of her temple.

She smiled, nudging him gently with her shoulder. “We already took the breadsticks, Cameron. Show a little restraint.”

His laugh was soft and close to her ear, barely more than a breath. “Not a chance, baby.”

The words made her stomach flutter even though he said them all the time now—like it came as naturally as breathing. It was obvious to everyone that he was deeply in love with her.

They reached the car just as the sky shifted from gold to rose, the last stretch of golden hour wrapping everything in its warm glow. Rafe opened the passenger door like he always did, one hand grazing her lower back as she slipped inside. He leaned down about to kiss her cheek—but he paused.

His gaze drifted past her, over her shoulder, across the quiet street.

Two figures.

JJ and John B.

They were strolling along the sidewalk, slow and loose like they didn’t have a care in the world, heads bent toward each other as they laughed about something—probably some half-baked joke that wouldn’t be funny if Rafe actually heard it. But he didn’t need to.

He saw it in the way JJ’s elbow nudged John B’s ribs, in the way their heads turned in perfect sync. That shared look. That smug little grin curling at the corner of JJ’s mouth like he was proud of something. Or someone. The kind of grin that meant they’d seen her.

And then, they saw him.

Rafe didn’t miss the subtle shift—JJ straightening just slightly, John B’s eyes narrowing with interest. It wasn’t fear. It was mockery, poorly disguised as amusement. Rafe knew that expression. Hell, he used to wear it like armor—back before he understood that real strength didn’t look like a smirk.

He looked back at the car.

She was already settling in, adjusting the seatbelt with both hands. Oblivious to the eyes across the street. Oblivious to the way his jaw had locked.

She looked peaceful.

He didn’t want her to see this part.

Rafe leaned in, resting his forearm against the edge of the open door. He kissed her forehead slow, letting his lips linger like a silent promise.

“I’ll be right back, alright?”

She blinked up at him, instantly alert. “Everything okay?”

His smile was calm, but his eyes had gone cold. Focused. “Just stay here. I’ll only be a minute.”

He closed the door gently. Like he always did.

Then turned and crossed the street with purpose in every step.

JJ’s grin flickered. John B’s shoulders pulled back.

“Relax,” Rafe said, his voice low, casual. “I’m not here to fight.”

JJ gave a short, sharp laugh, but it didn’t carry the usual confidence. “Could’ve fooled me. You’ve got that Cameron rage walk going.”

Rafe stopped a few feet away, posture deceptively loose. But his eyes—icy and locked—were anything but relaxed.

“You’re lucky I didn’t come over yesterday and knock your teeth in.”

JJ raised a brow, all fake amusement. “That right?”

Rafe’s gaze slid between them. Steady. Dangerous in how even he kept his tone.

“Say whatever the hell you want about me. Behind my back, to my face—I really don’t care anymore.”

He took a small step closer, voice dropping an octave.

“But you don’t get to talk about her.”

JJ’s smirk twitched, mouth opening like he had something ready.

Rafe shut it down before he got the chance.

“Not in stores. Not when you pass her on the dock. Not with those pathetic little ‘glad you’re not with Rafe anymore’ comments.” His tone never wavered, but there was a quiet fury underneath it. Controlled. Lethal. “You don’t know her. And you sure as hell don’t get to speak like you do.”

John B’s jaw tensed. “We didn’t say anything that bad.”

“You did,” Rafe snapped, voice hardening for the first time. “Because the second you saw her, you tried to make her feel like she didn’t belong. Like she had something to apologize for.”

His chest rose and fell with slow, measured breaths. The anger wasn’t wild—it was rooted, focused. It burned clean.

“That ends now.”

Silence stretched between them.

JJ finally looked away. John B shifted his weight, arms crossed, like he was waiting for an opening that never came.

Rafe stepped closer again, barely an inch between them, and jabbed a finger into JJ’s chest—once, sharp.

“She’s not yours to guilt anymore. You walked away. You let her feel small for too long. But she’s mine now. And I won’t let you undo that.”

He didn’t wait for a response.

Didn’t need one.

Rafe turned and walked away, not caring to look behind him.

She was still in the passenger seat, her hands folded gently over her stomach, thumbs absentmindedly brushing one another. The setting sun poured through the windshield, casting amber light across her face, softening her features. She looked calm—but curious. Watching the driver’s side door with quiet concern.

When it opened, she tilted her head. “Everything okay?” she asked again, her voice softer this time, laced with knowing.

“Yeah,” Rafe murmured, sliding back into the seat beside her. He shut the door with a low thud and exhaled, one hand rubbing briefly along his jaw. “Handled.”

She didn’t press. Just reached over with familiar ease, her fingers slipping into his. Warm. Sure.

“What’d you say?” she asked, not accusing—just curious. There was no tension in her voice. No worry. Just a want to understand what that quiet storm in his chest had turned into.

He glanced at her, then down at their joined hands. His thumb brushed slowly over the inside of her wrist, back and forth, like he needed the motion to steady himself before answering.

“Just reminded them,” he said after a pause, his voice low and deliberate, “that you’re not someone they’re allowed to talk about anymore. Not like that.”

She let out a breathy little laugh—not mocking, but touched. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He turned to look at her fully now, his eyes darker, steadier. “I wanted to.”

He held her gaze, something deeper rising between the quiet words. “I’m never gonna let anyone make you feel like you have to explain your life to them. Not when it’s ours.”

Her lips parted slightly, something in her chest blooming slow and warm.

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, lingering there for a beat before gently guiding their joined hands back to rest over her stomach. His thumb brushed the same spot he’d kissed earlier that day, now with a quiet kind of reverence.

Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, letting herself feel it. Him. Them. All the weight of the world quieting beneath his touch.

Outside, the last of the daylight faded, painting the dashboard in deepening gold. A car passed by, unnoticed.

When Rafe finally turned the key in the ignition and pulled back onto the road, his fingers never once let go of hers.

[arietem]

you're blurry, but you're all i see

masterlist

jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: you get a bit crossfaded at a party and your boyfriend jj takes care of you

soo fluffy

a/n: i'm in a fluffy mood apparently, but a smutty one is coming soon too ꕤ

"Yo, rude boy! Your girl is calling for you down there," Cleo says and points at the beach. He leaves you for a second and you're off on an adventure.

"You go get Pope, he's in one of his lectures moods tonight," he salutes Cleo and makes his way to you.

JJ finds you sprawled on the beach, a red solo cup next to your feet, its content spilling on the sand. You are alone and you're laughing at something only you seem to understand.

"Jaay Jaay!" You half scream when you see him approach, but it's weird - he's upside down. No wait, you are upside down. Who is upside down?

Tonight's party was not one you were pacing yourself at so you are pretty drunk and honestly maybe a little high too. A joint was passing around at one point in the night and who are you to say no to free weed?

JJ is towering over you and why is he still upside down? His blonde hair is falling into his eyes and he has a wide amused smirk on his face. He's a bit blurry now, but still the hottest guy on this damn island. And he's yours. You can't believe he's yours and you get to keep him.

You try to sit upright and sway a little in the process. JJ is right there, kneeling by your side, his warm, rough hand on your lower back. His palms are always rough and calloused, but his touch is the softest one you know.

"Woah, easy there angel." JJ easily catches you when you start falling backward again, your stomach now feeling a little funny. Maybe you didn't need those last few shots with Cleo.

"No, you're an angel," you say and bop JJ's nose. You reach out to hold on to his wrist, trying to regain some control over your movements. Somehow, saying coherent thoughts is easy and you know what's going on, mostly, so you're pretty proud of yourself. Until JJ hoists you up on your feet and your knees buckle.

Before you can plop back down on the sand, JJ is hooking his arms behind your knees and picking you up, bridal style. The crook of his neck seems like the coziest place ever so you lay your head there and close your eyes, taking in his smoky scent.

"Mmm…" You start mumbling against his neck and peppering him with feather-light kisses. You can feel how he shivers and it makes you even warmer and more lightheaded.

"Are you feeling okay?" JJ asks softly, tightening his grip. You just nod because forming words is now becoming too much. Your stomach is really not feeling okay, but you don't say anything and just hope it goes away on its own.

Then JJ stops and you open your eyes to see what's the holdup. "C'mon, let's get you in the Twinkie, angel." He helps you get in the van, where the crew is waiting. Through your half-open eyes you can see the girls are not looking so good either. Well, except Cleo. It seems Sarah has it the worst because John B is saying to JJ how she puked on his shoes. You try to laugh at him but nothing comes out.

JJ takes a seat next to you and brushes your hair off your face, tilting a water bottle for you to drink. You are drinking and Pope and John B are talking about something stupid and suddenly your stomach is really really not feeling good.

"John B!" You yell out frantically. He looks up at the rearview mirror and widens his eyes when he sees your face. "John B, stop the car!"

He shouts something about not throwing up in his car, please, and stops on the side of the road. JJ jumps out, pulling you with him, and steering you toward the bushes. You fall to your knees ungracefully, and damn that's gonna hurt tomorrow.

"It's okay. You're okay, let it out." JJ gathers your hair in a ponytail, holding it out of your face while you are regretting going to this stupid party. Once you feel like you are finally empty, you take a ragged breath and glance at JJ through your lashes. "Thank you baby for taking care of me."

JJ puts his hands on your cheeks, wiping beneath your eyes. "Are you kidding me? Of course I'm taking care of my girl". He kisses your forehead once, twice. "And now I have a funny story about ya I can tell over and over again." JJ smirks and you shove his shoulder, but there's no real force behind it.

You lock your eyes with him and both of you burst out laughing, one of those full belly laughs about nothing and everything.

"Lovebirds, if you're all done, time to go! I'm gonna fall asleep at the wheel!" You look behind you at John B who is impatiently waving his hands at you and JJ.

JJ interlaces his fingers with yours and you two make your way to the Twinkie once again. It's quiet inside, everybody dozing off and trying to get through the drunkenness. Before you know it, you arrive at the chateau and it takes some time to get everybody out of the car and into the house.

Still holding hands, you and JJ stumble into his room and you flop down on the bed. You turn over, sighing dramatically. "I got to wash my face Jayj, but I'm so tired." JJ is only in his boxers now, his shorts and tank top discarded on the floor. Oh, what a sight he is.

"Come to bed, baby." You spread your arms wide, anything about washing your face instantly forgotten.

"Wait, I have these…" JJ throws something on the bed next to you. "What..." Oh. He has makeup wipes for you. He keeps makeup wipes in his room for you.

"Oh, JJ." You cross the short distance to him and jump up in his arms, hooking your legs around his waist. He catches you effortlessly and presses a hot kiss to your lips, not caring you still have lipstick on.

JJ walks over to the bed with you in his arms and sits down, positioning you on his lap. He takes one of the wipes and gently takes off your makeup for you. It's one of the most intimate things you've experienced and you love him so much your heart might burst.

"I love you so much, JJ." Now you brush his hair away from his face, feeling the blonde strands between your fingers. His gorgeous blue eyes are boring into you, the affection written there plain as day.

"I love you too, angel. You're my girl." JJ kisses you again and you moan a little into his mouth. You wish you could keep kissing him, but your eyes are closing more and more by the second. Without hesitating, you take off your dress over your head.

JJ lets himself fall backward and you land on his chest. He then turns you over so you are the little spoon. With one more kiss on your neck and a content sigh in your ear, JJ falls asleep, you following quickly along. When you wake up, you two are still pressed together and there's nowhere you'd rather be.

[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."

[petriwriting]

Bright Future Ahead - JJ Maybank X Reader

Based on THIS request.

Summary: Reader tells JJ they are pregnant.

A/N Did not proofread, wrote this at the gym lol

“C’mon baby girl,” JJ says, the little girls footsteps thud on the floor as she toddler-waddles over to JJ, whose across the hall.

John B and Sarah had a few errands to run, so you and JJ had offered to watch over their sweet daughter Ella Rouledge while they did so. She was so sweet, an Angel with little curls and eyes like her fathers. She was bold and adventurous, taking after both of her parents in that regard. One thing she particularly liked was playing dress up with JJ. Her god father was her idol, she wanted to be just like him, even mimicking his mannerisms from a young age, it was so heart warming to see. You couldn’t wait to have your own child.

Over the last 5 years, the Pogues had given up on treasure hunting, and everyone was settled into a comfortable and safe life. You and JJ had been through everything together, and you loved him more than anyone could imagine and in return you were his whole world. You had gotten engaged shortly after Morocco, JJ had said he didn’t want to waste anymore time because he knew you were the one, and in case they were swept on another crazy adventure he wanted you to be his, officially. You’d taken his last name and had a backyard ceremony with the group with string lights and beer, and a pastor certificate pope and Cleo found online it was in fact legally binding. Since then, JJ had put a lot of his energy into his business, JJ Maybanks deep sea charters, a huge success, now with a second location opening on the other side of the island. Everyone was making enough money to live comfortably, however in Pogue fashion they certainly did not live like kooks. John B and Sarah were fully invested in their family, Cleo and Pope were doing well too, as pope was finishing his degree. All was well for those 5 years, the good and the bad. You were thankful that JJ stuck with you through it all. He had grown into himself, and matured a lot after the incident with his father. He had healed significantly. You were thankful to have seen it all. Reminiscing on the past had only further directed your mind to your future ahead of you…

“Can I brush your hair?” The little girl squeals excitedly, her mother had her hair in braids with bows and they wiggled as she moved excitedly across the playroom. “Sure kiddo, anything.” JJ chuckled and sat down on the floor while the girl brought out her play makeup and hair accessories. You approached the room, and stood in the doorway. “Whose hungry for lunch?” You say with a smile. “Me me!!!” The girl yells excitedly. “Me too,” JJ chuckles. “Well, I’m thinking tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches?” You offered. “Sounds delicious!” JJ exclaimed, looking at himself in the fake mirror.

“Are you sure about this one?” He asks, playing along with the girls banter. She was desolately trying to reach JJs head while he sat on the floor and was brushing what she could reach while comparing the butterfly hair clips with his complexion. “This one,” she says insistently, settling on a blue clip, JJ had to clip it to his own hair because she struggled to do so by herself, her tiny hands weren’t quite strong enough. “Wow! This one really brings out my eyes, huh Y/N?” He turned to you who was admiringly watching playtime unfold from the doorway still. “You look so fabulous.” You reply still holding a slight smile. You would have gladly played with the girl if she wanted, but there was something about JJ that she just loved and you couldn’t blame her. She had said he has better hair the last time they played princess together, and that it was more fun to play with than your hair, you weren’t particularly offended by this though. “I’ll get lunch started, you say, disappearing into the kitchen. You didn’t want to leave, lingering for a few moments watching Ella begin to paint JJ’s nails a glittery purple color. He was no match for her.

As you prepared lunch for the three of you, you could hear the girl’s innocent laughter and JJs colliding. She was delighted her uncle JJ was playing with her. It warmed your heart to imagine how sweet and tender and caring he would be when the two of you decided to start a family. It made you flush, and you felt fuzzy and warm as if you had only just fallen in love with him, instead your were falling deeper in love with JJ.

The thing was, you had just found out you were pregnant. The morning prior, you had taken a test after not feeling too great for a few days and as if shocked, you gasped when you found out. It wasn’t that you weren’t ready for this step in your future, it was that you were slightly sad to mourn the loss of the things you were able to do with JJ alone, like showering together and having sex on the couch in the middle of the day. Sure, they were great, but that sadness and slight doubt was replaced when you saw how amazing he was with Ella, he was attentive and caring, gentle and soft. He showed his gentle side only with her, and sometimes you wanted to squeal in excitement because of how cute it was.

Pretty soon, there would be a little JJ running around causing trouble, and you couldn’t be happier to think of it. Now, you just had to tell JJ himself. You’d taken 4 boxes worth of tests to be sure, and Sarah had helped book an appintment for you later that week with the doctor that helped her through her pregnancy, you had told kie as well and she immediately bought you a pack of prenatal vitamins and healthy snacks. Something she said was absolutely vital. She even offered to show you some pregnancy yoga stretches she taught other women. Everyone was excited for you, even John B, who Sarah had told by accident. You were slightly worried you wouldn’t find the right moment to tell JJ, not that he would react badly, just that it was such a big moment for the two of you.

You were lost in your own world while you prepared the soup and made the sandwiches in the routledge kitchen, you hadn’t noticed how quiet things had gotten. It had only been a little less than an hour, so curiosity got the better of you and you wandered back into the playroom. JJ shushed you before you could say anything and your eyes met his. Ella was sleeping peacefully cuddled up my JJ’s side, she must have wanted him to read a story and had fallen asleep. The poor girl must have been exhausted from playing. JJ looked at you with a soft smile, 2 pink butterfly clips were in his hair, and he looked a bit goofy but he was still your JJ.

You smiled softly at him, “Let me,” you mouthed to him, reaching for Ella and gently picking her up in your arms to tuck her into bed. JJ pulled a soft blanket over her as she lay peacefully sleeping. You turned for the door, while JJ leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Sleep tight cupcake.” He said softly, before joining you. You gently shut the door behind you and lead JJ to the kitchen.

“Gosh she is somethin’ else.” JJ says with a slight laugh, taking the clips out of his hair. “I love the nail color on you, very complimentary.” You joke. You proceeded to the kitchen, where you both enjoyed the lunch you had made in comfortable silence. JJ knew something was up since you were acting oddly in that moment. After eating, you sighed and went to clean to rinse the dishes, putting them into the dish washer.

“Hey,” you said finally. “Can we talk?” You ask, JJ smiles gently “of course.” He says. “What’about?” He asks you. “Well.” You begin, he can tell you’re upset, nervous at least. He takes your hands in his gently holding them in a comforting way he waits patiently for you to let it out, and when you are ready after a moment you do. “Seeing you and Ella makes my heart melt, you are so sweet with her and it just,” you stutter, stopping yourself. “It makes me realize how much of an amazing father you’ll be.” You look up at the ocean eyes of his, “I can’t wait to start a family with you.” He admits softly. “And you know I’m ready whenever you are.” He explains. He had said before he was patiently waiting for you to be ready, and he would support you however you needed. “Jayj,” you say gently. “I’m uh,” you sigh softly. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence, JJs expression that was soft turns into an elated smile. “Really, baby?” He asks in disbelief. “Yes.” You confirm. “Like 6 tests.” He embraces you tightly for a quick moment. “Oh my god,” he says through a smile and a joyous laugh. “We’re havin’ a baby!” He exclaims. “Woo!” He says loudly, with a fist up in victory. you shush hun reminding him of Ella sleeping a few doors down. JJ gets kinda serious for a few minutes, and leans down so he his face to face with your stomach, “hear that baby Maybank?” He says, “your mama and I are gonna spoil you rotten. I’ll give you everything I always wanted as a kid. We’re gonna love you so much,” JJ says, his voice cracks as he’s gotten emotional, teary eyed. “I love you so much.” He says, to both you and your baby. He embraces you with his head rested on your stomach.

You enjoy his touch and run your fingers through his hair for a few moments, he finally stands up fully again and wipes the tears from his eyes and kisses you deeply, you are so swept up in his embrace you don’t hear Sarah and John B coming back home with a few groceries. JJ pulls back immediately and goes over to John B, “we’re having a baby!” He exclaims. John B shares his excitement and they embrace. “Congratulations, man.” He pats JJ on the back. Sarah is excited too and smiled at you, scurrying to put the handful of groceries away. “Well I didn’t know you were going to tell him now.” She says with a sigh, reaching under the sink and pulling out a very expensive and fancy bottle of sparkling cider. “But we got this as a gift to celebrate!” She exclaims popping the bottle open with a satisfying fizz of bubbles and a pop.

The rest of the evening is spent in a happy daze, a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life. Kie had come over and hugged both of you very happily, and Pope and Cleo shortly after. The evening was spent in celebration, sharing happy memories and drinks. Nob alcoholic ones for you of course. Deep down you knew you were right where you needed to be and you couldn’t think of a better man to have as your baby’s father than JJ Maybank.

Taglist: @jsbaby

[sebsbarnes]

four months || andrew ‘pope’ cody

andrew 'pope' cody x reader

summary: three words. four syllables. a simple question that somehow managed to feel like a bullet raged in the chambers of your heart shredding the organ to dust. unsalvageable.

warnings: language, illusions to suicidal ideations (brief), angst, tiniest mention of something in early s2, improper grammar, cliches, no mention of reader age or gender

word count: 900+

a/n: quick lil read! i wasn’t going to write for pope until i finish the show but sorry i got so much in my mind for him. just started s3<3

“are you happy?”

it was easier to stomach the pain of the knife that had lodged itself into your thigh on a shitty job that went wrong.

are you happy?

three words. four syllables. a simple question that somehow managed to feel like a bullet raged in the chambers of your heart shredding the organ to dust. unsalvageable.

a bitter laugh spilled from your lips, “happy? really, pope, happy?”

his stance was solid, back straight, head tipped the slightest bit towards the ground. a learned behavior from 3 years inside. pope’s lip curved down, a sign discomfort was setting in.

“couldn’t fuckin’ tell you the last time i was happy, pope.”

a small tsk sounded, “you know i wanted the best for you,” voice gravelly.

“the best for me? really because you didn’t fucking run that by me when you iced me out and told your family to pretend i’m not alive,” anger radiating off your body, your pointer finger jabbing into your chest with each word, “i didn’t realize you were all-fucking-knowing, pope. didn’t know you could determine how i would feel about something that you don’t warn me about.”

pope’s hand grabbed your wrist halting the repeated action, “it’s not safe for you.”

he was closer to you now with his body mirroring the slightest movement of yours. pope’s eyes locked on yours as if he will lose sight of you if he breaks away.

“i’m not safe for you,” he whispered.

the lump in your throat went down roughly, “i’ve been doing this shit just as long as you. i’ve known you pope, andrew, for years. i have loved you-i love you for years now. but pushing me away? what the fuck was that.”

you were forcing the tears back forbidding them from capsizing over your bottom eyelashes. now not only was the bullet still rattling in your heart, but it felt as though an invisible pump was deflating your lungs. depriving you of oxygen, skin growing cold, vision a haze.

“four months. up and vanished. not a word,” you choked all attempts to hide your emotions failing. you shoved at his chest causing him to stagger back, “i live two blocks away and i couldn’t find you. you’re not a hard man to find so i know you were putting in effort to avoid me.”

he stabilized himself, boots grounded into the floor, the squeaky boards under his feet now silencing. there was regret etched into his face evident by his eyebrows pulled together, a deep ridge forming between. pope chewed on his bottom lip as embarrassment set in. he knew it was fucked up to assume vanishing would be the best for you. safe for you. safe from his brothers, his mom, his past, him. it was a culmination of jobs gone south and self-doubting tendencies that blindsided him from good decision-making. you were right, of course you were, you always were. you and pope lived the same but separate lives for a long time before finding each other. been through the same fucked up shit.

maybe it was a horrible idea to love someone just as fucked up as you, but god did pope need you. he craved you in the simplest forms. the feeling of you walking next to him, your hand ghosting his shoulder as you passed him at your apartment sink, the warmth of your body tangled in the bedsheets with him.

it was idiotic of him to think either of you would be better off without the other. pope spent the last four months awake with almost no sleep. his demons creeping up, greeting him in the dark of night nagging him with reminders of the ghosts of his past. pope’s legs would swing from the ledge of the wall, eyes cast to the ocean with his right hand toying with his silver gun. there were many moments in the last few weeks where his skull and the barrel of the weapon acted as a magnetic force, the connection unwavering.

unbeknownst to him, you were spiraling at home desperate to find him anywhere. pope was two streets away yet it was as if he never existed on this earth. the tires of your car would screech into smurf’s driveway but the no trespassing sign greeted you, its commands unyielding. with a fist, you would barge into deran’s bar seeking answers but he would warn you to leave with his glock hesitating to point at you.

pope’s shoulders shook. a silent sob consuming his body. his life was shit but these last four months felt like hell had opened up and was punishing him for all his sins, torturing him in ways that mankind has yet to discover.

his hands reached forward softly grabbing your cheeks. your head lulled in his hands a sensation you have longed for. pope’s thumbs caught the droplets running from your eyes. a sight that caused him more anguish. tears that he caused.

“i am so sorry. please—please forgive me,” pope’s voice quiet and unsteady. his face was flushed and eyes now bloodshot.

you grabbed onto his hands removing them for your face, fingers slowly intertwining, “please never do that to me again.”

pope’s head rapidly nodded, tears decorating his face. c’mon you whispered softly before the weight of his body crashed into yours. relief flooded through your bodies as you molded together once again. it was love, no matter how unconventional.

[the-californicationist]

Through a Glass, Darkly

A new priest is assigned to your remote abbey, but when you go to him for confession, you realize you are kneeling before the Devil himself.

Anonymous asked: Hiya Cali, crazy thought but happy october 🎃 brain worm, think about mirror sex with vampire!Price / 141 and the absolute flith that would pour from his mouth as he watches you stretch around seemingly nothing…

———

TW: vampirism, blood play, priest abuse of power, heavy religious imagery, fem!reader, rape/noncon, virginity loss, corruption, mind breaking, historical fantasy au, father/my child/sister religious titles, fully adult characters

You’ve been warned, and I don’t wanna hear it. Your click, your fault.

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. — 1 Corinthians 13:12

—x—x—x—

When Mr. Hawthorne arrived that morning with fresh milk, eggs, and a cart full of potatoes and turnips, you thought you would forget yourself and fling your hands around his fat neck. It had been weeks since supplies had been delivered, and although you lived in what was probably the smallest abbey in the world, you were just thankful that you had not been completely forgotten.

“Oh, thank you, Mister Hawthorne! We are so grateful for your service. The Lord rewards the generous,” you praised him.

The plump man’s face flushed red and he took off his sweaty cap, holding it limply in his hands,

“Tha’s alright, Sister. I had a good yield this season. You send a letter over to us if you need anything more. Hopefully that new priest will be arriving soon. Margie said she spotted him at the inn yesterday afternoon.”

“New priest?” You asked, wholly unaware of your abbey receiving an actual man of the cloth.

“Yes, Sister. He looks a little rugged for a holy man, but she said he was wearin’ the collar, clear as day.”

“Oh,” you mused, unsure of what to say.

“I’ll take my leave of you, Sister. Hope he’s a good one. It’ll be nice to have services back in the old church.”

“Yes, it will. Take care, and safe travels, sir. May God bless your next harvest.”

You watched as his rickety cart, pulled by an equally rotund mule, delivered the farmer away from you and your tiny sanctuary. As soon as he was out of sight, you rushed back through the wooden doors of the abbey to find Sister Ruth and Sister Sarah to tell them of the news.

They were both as shocked as you were. You had all three been convinced that the good Pope had completely forgotten about your little sect, and no letters had come for months. But, a new priest in this parish would bring much needed governance to the provincial people of your small village, and you needed to prepare.

You and your fellow nuns cleaned, cleaned, and cleaned some more. By nightfall, the abbey gleamed anew.

As you were preparing for bed, you heard the whinny of a horse outside of the abbey doors. You looked out into the corridor, and Sister Ruth was peeking out as well. Arming yourselves with long, steel fire pokers, you made your way to the entrance. Ruth nudged you with her elbow, encouraging you to call out. So, you said,

“It is past hours. Please come back tomorrow!”

“I’m Father John Price, and unless I’m mistaken, this is my abbey,” a deep, gravelly voice called out to you, seeming to flow and roll through the door with a convincing ease.

You cracked the wooden portal and looked out.

There, holding onto a frothy, exhausted steed was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He wore an all-black capello romano on his head, towering above you by at least a full cubit. His face was pale, protected from labors under the sun, but his hands looked like they had certainly known the true meaning of work. His body was well-muscled and immense. Even in the midst of his flowing black robes, you could see the bulging form of his shoulders stretching the fine fabric. Around his thick neck, his white clergy collar sat dutifully under a jutting Adam’s apple and a proud chin, shaven although the rest of his beard was trimmed to full length.

But it was his eyes that unnerved you. For all of his brutish form, the look in his gaze made your blood run cold. There was something hypnotizing about the pale blue irises. It made him seem almost inhuman.

That deep, purring voice returned, and he stepped closer to you, threatening your threshold with white, sharp teeth pulled in a tight smile,

“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

“Forgive me, Father. Please, come in. Sister Ruth will take your horse to the stables. Allow me to take your bags and show you to your chamber.”

He followed behind you at a close distance, studying the abbey’s courtyard and walls, judging its worthiness. You were proud of the work you had done to keep it in good working order, but you knew it was in desperate need of repairs.

As you walked, you tried to make small talk to ease the tension,

“I have been in prayer thanking God for your arrival, Father. It has been many years since we have been blessed to house a priest within our abbey walls. Our parishioners will be filled with joy to return to their pews.”

“Mm.” His hum was polite but noncommittal, so you gave up on the niceties.

Finally, you reached his cell, you pried open the door and allowed him to enter before you. He studied the spartan room with the expected amount of enthusiasm, and watched you lay his bag down on the small chair at his desk. You straightened out the Bible that lay on the table, making sure the corner matched up with the edge of the table, placing it just so.

“Will you take supper, Father Price?”

“No, I am not hungry. You will find that I eat very little, in fact,” he said, taking off his cloak and laying it on the freshly-made bed. He hung his hat on its hook and tried to straighten his hair.

“Should I have a mirror brought in for your cell?” You asked, thinking that he may need to look presentable. As a nun, you never used a mirror as a rule, but you were willing to accommodate your new steward as best you could.

“Do you use a mirror, my child?” Price’s voice deepened and smoldered like a bundle of kindling, threatening to burn. He stepped toward you, using his size to impose himself upon you in the small space.

“N-n-no,” you stammered, “Of course not, Father. But I am not in a position to be perceived such as yourself.”

“Recite Proverbs 31:30, my child,” he commanded, stepping closer to you, slowly creeping into your personal space, close enough that you could smell the scent of the sun and the grass on his robes, mixing with the sweat of his skin.

You swallowed, clearing your throat, and obeyed,

“Yes, Father. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.”

“Good,” Price smiled, using his finger to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, “We must not succumb to vanity, my child. A dutiful disciple is one who serves others, yes?”

“Yes, Father,” you said, stepping backwards, away from his touch, hanging your head in reverence.

“In fact,” he purred, “It is James 1:23 which reminds us that those who look into the glass will be blinded by their own desires, only seeing themselves, incapable of suffering God’s divinity. It is the good works done that are worthy of praise, my child, although…”

He stepped forward again, grabbing your chin in his huge hand roughly, clutching the very bone of your jaw, making you gasp,

“Our Lord has taken special care to display his almighty talent in your face, has he not? Such delicate features. Like an angel.”

His mouth was so close to yours that you could smell the heady scent of iron and musk on his breath. His piercing eyes never left yours, pinning you in place.

Then, he released you, and you left the room without being dismissed, closing the cell door behind you and rushing back to your own cloister. You rushed into your room, locking the door fast, and knelt at your altar to pray for forgiveness.

Except… you were not asking to be forgiven for suggesting vanity to your new priest. No. You were asking to be forgiven for the warm, wet lust that was smearing across the crease of your thighs. Father Price had awakened strong feelings in you not of enlightenment, but of lurid desire, and you begged to be cleansed.

The next morning, Father Price called the abbey together. Yourself, Sister Ruth, and Sister Sarah reported to the small courtyard, along with two young pilgrims who had lived there since the past summer, Timothy and David. You and the nuns had suspected them as runaways, but they pledged themselves to the cloth and took care of the manual labor around the premises since you lacked any monks to speak of. They were well into their young adulthood now, and they would become apprentices to Father Price, if he saw fit.

You tried to put what had transpired between you and the good Father out of your mind, but seeing him in the cold light of day did nothing to quell the sinful desire you felt towards him. The way he had grabbed you…

“Good morrow, everyone. I ask that you will join me in our Biblical studies every morning. I find that the word of God helps me put the rest of my day right. I want to begin at the beginning, yes?”

He looked around at all of your faces, as if anyone would protest against his power, and then he continued,

“What does Genesis 4:7 tell us, Sister Ruth?”

“Speaking to Cain, the Lord said: If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.”

“Sin lieth at the door,” Father Price mused, then, as if shaking himself from his thought, he said, “Please continue, Sister.”

“And Cain talked with Abel, his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel, his brother, and slew him. And the Lord said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother's keeper?”

“You are,” the priest’s voice rose in his chest, startling Sister Ruth and silencing her words. He began to pace back and forth, slowly stalking through your small ranks, “You are your brother’s keeper. You are more than that. You are keepers of this entire parish, are you not?”

“Yes, Father,” you all said in unison.

“There will be a reckoning in this parish,” Price snarled, “I will not lead a flock of demons disguised as sheep. If any of you hear witness or see evidence of sin, deliver it to me at once. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Father,” you repeated.

“I will now take your confessions. I understand that it has been a number of years since you were cleansed, so be prepared to repent lest you allow the Devil into your soul.”

“Yes, Father.”

The day dragged on through the gray clouds, and Father Price had taken his time with the confessions of the members of your abbey. Sister Sarah had gone into his cell after the boys, and she had emerged with red eyes full of tears. You had comforted her in hushed whispers in the corner of her cloister, asking her what he had done, thinking it was something even more awful that how he had accosted you last night.

“He…” Sarah sobbed, “He made me kneel on sharp stones while I recited my prayers. It hurts so much, Sister.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Although sharp stones were not a gentle punishment, they were at least devoid of physical contact. He had not taken a hand to her. But, Sister Sarah was young. She had avoided some of the harsher training practices of the more traditional members of the church. You knew that there were a bevvy of punishments that would make kneeling in discomfort feel like a blessing.

Sister Ruth also came out sniffling, reporting that she had fifty lashes across her palms for the sin of plucking figs off of a nearby tree owned by the neighboring farm.

Again, you sighed and thanked God that he had a little mercy within him.

His cell door opened, and Father Price locked eyes with you and demanded,

“Come, my child. It is time for your confession.”

“Yes, Father Price,” you complied, taking your leave of the other nuns and following him into his cell.

Inside of his room, a shaft of sunlight cut across his face, illuminating his eyes and stunning you, keeping you from moving forward.

“Shut the door, my child,” his timbre was ominous, and you tried to hold yourself together.

“So far,” he rose from his seat and walked over to you, “I have cleansed the souls of a nun who is a thief, another who is a sloth, a young man who is a liar, and another who is filled with pride. It seems, Sister, that you have allowed the Devil through the door, indeed.”

“Forgive me, Father. I knew not of their wicked ways, nor have I your wisdom to correct them.” You stared at the stone floor. It was easier than looking at him.

“I do not believe that the wickedness was borne within them,” Father Price mused, tapping his finger on his lips as if deep in thought, “Because I discovered this beneath your mattress, and so I know the evil is inside of you.”

In his hands, Father Price held up a square, familiar, looking glass. You trembled, watching as your own reflection met you back. You could see the fear spread across your face, and you were disgusted by it.

“Tell me, my child. How did you use this mirror?” He asked sweetly, but as he watched you think about how best to answer the question, his voice became hot with fury and he snarled into your ear, “And don’t you dare lie to me. I will know your deceit.”

Your heart was banging in your chest, and so, beyond your better judgment, you told him the truth.

“I used it to… examine myself, Father.”

“Show me,” he commanded.

It was as if his whole cell bent and bowed under the weight of his authority. Your body began to move against your own will, relenting to his instead. Without thinking, you pulled back your habit and let your hair fall down your back. Then, you began to peel away your robes. Underneath, you untied your shift, and you allowed the fabric to pool on the floor at your feet, staring at yourself naked in the glass.

He watched you in silent awe, his pupils darkening, his mouth parted at his full lips, his chest heaving as he watched you make yourself bare before him.

“Go on,” he said, knowing that you were not finished with your demonstration.

You felt yourself obeying him helplessly, and you performed the same inspection that you did in private in front of him.

“I wanted to see how God hath made me, Father. So, I looked.”

“Where did you look, my child?”

“Here,” you raised your hands to squeeze the supple flesh of your breasts, showing him how your nipples were bouncy and puffy until they turned stiff and tight.

“And here,” you allowed your hand to fit itself between your thighs, spreading your labia, covered in dense hair, until your pliant lips revealed a shining, smooth center, wet and ready for pleasure.

“Now that you have examined the Lord’s fine works, what did you do with this knowledge?” Price asked.

“I would touch this part of me, Father, and I would let it bring me to Heaven.”

“I would like to know Heaven, my child. Turn around.”

You tried to stop yourself, but he was using his power to bind you. You were nothing more than a toy, helpless to his every whim. You turned, your back facing him, and he set the mirror on his desk so that you could see yourself within it. Then, he moved in front of you and his body blocked your view, reaching down to grab your chin like he had the first night he arrived, raising your mouth up to his.

You thought he would kiss you. His lips were just within reach, but he commanded you darkly,

“Confess.”

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you recited dumbly, “It has been three years since my last confession. In that time, I have…”

His mouth covered yours, kissing you deeply, feeding you his long tongue and eating up your words before you could say them. Then, you felt his hands on your breasts, squeezing them cruelly, pinching your nipples to make them ache and sting. You couldn’t help the lewd sounds that escaped your throat, but he didn’t seem to care to stop you. Finally, he pulled away, and when you looked into his eyes again, the bright blue had been replaced with a Hellish red.

You gasped, and he grabbed you tighter, pulling you towards him by the soft meat of your breasts, making you cry out in agony. That noise seemed to please him because he smiled down at you, and you could see that his teeth had grown into long, wolf-like fangs. He chuckled,

“My pretty little sinner.”

“D-d-demon!” You cried breathlessly, shaking from fear as he held you to his body.

Price bared his fangs at your assessment, hissing from the title,

“Yes, and you have invited me in, so eager to be corrupted.”

Releasing you from his grip, he held you around your waist with one arm, and he used his free hand to dip between your legs, discovering your wetness there and sighing from it.

“Mmm… Let me taste your sweet, little Heaven, Sister.”

He knelt on the floor in front of you and held onto your wide ass cheeks in each hand, forcing your hips to tilt toward his face. You looked down and watched as his impossibly long tongue flicked against your swollen bud. His wide tongue parted your lips to drag wetly between them. You tried to hold back your cries, but you’d never known such pleasure, so you could barely keep it in. You prayed for forgiveness as you came apart against this demon’s mouth, succumbing to his vileness.

Then, you glanced into the mirror, and you noticed that you couldn’t see his head. Only the collar and robes were visible in the glass. All you could see is how your lips were being spread apart, seemingly on their own.

He had no reflection.

“You… you’re…” You couldn’t say the words, but Price knew what you meant to call him.

He looked over his shoulder, using his thumbs to spread your lips wide apart, gazing at them in the glass and smiling even though he didn’t have a reflection to smile at. Then, he looked back up at you, a sick grin spread across his lips,

“Cain, yes. The immortal wanderer, cursed from the earth which hath opened her mouth to receive my brother’s blood. And I have not tasted food, for it becomes ash in my mouth, just like He promised. But, blood… I can taste blood just fine.”

He planted the softest kisses between your shivering thighs, sucking on the thin skin, and then, after slaking his thirst with your sticky center once more, he sank his fangs right in the inside of your thigh, making you howl with pain.

His eyes were locked on yours, watching you writhe in agony, your nerves sensing his venom coursing through you as he sucked the life from your veins. You watched yourself in the mirror, seeing the puncture wounds, watching as blood spilled out across your skin, smearing and being licked away by his greedy tongue. Finally, he released you, and the poison of his mouth took effect. You became deeply fatigued, and you could barely stand on your own. He had to hold you in his arms to keep you in position.

He stood, smiling down at you, his mouth caked with your dark blood, his teeth stained red,

“What a blessing you are, my child. Such perfect innocence tastes so fine, so… pure. I almost hate to sour your ripe little fruit, but that will be sweet in its own way, yes?”

You watched as your demonic priest yanked at his collar, popping it from his neck. Then, he pulled off his robes, tearing away at his layers until he was as bare as you, both of you fully naked and pressed together, joined in a crash of skin and heat, his mouth painting your body with your own blood as he kissed and licked your breasts and belly, teasing you with his tongue as he explored you.

Then, he stepped around to your back, and you caught sight of his heavy cock as it swung between his legs like that of a rutting beast. You tried to fight the black spell you were under, but it was no use. You were trapped in his thrall.

“Watch yourself in the mirror, my child,” Father Price commanded you, grinning as you immediately obeyed, “Come and behold the marvelous works of God.”

You couldn’t turn your eyes away. You were alone in the mirror, and yet, your breasts were being crushed by invisible fists, your nipples tormented between unseen fingers. Then, you felt Price fit his phallus against the entrance of your sex and press it into you, stretching you wide across his prodding cockhead. You saw how your body was being invaded by him, pulling itself apart to allow him inside. The dark hole of your quim opened like a toothless maw, drooling and starving, hungry to take him deep within you, welcoming him up to your womb.

You sobbed at the strain, and then you felt something give way sharply inside you, and he had a much easier time of filling you with his engorged length. As he fucked himself up into you, he was grunting like an animal, praising you in your ear, telling you his own confession,

“Forgive me, my child, for I am sinning. Right now… I am sinning with you, and it is so sweet. God has made you for me. What a gift you are. See?”

He used his hand to swipe at your gaping hole, bringing his hand in front of your face so you could see the bright blood that coated his fingertips,

“You have broken so easily for me. The Lord knew you needed me to come and serve you. He brought me to you, my child. You welcomed me inside, didn’t you? Spread these lips for me, invited me in… Didn’t you? Say it.”

“Y-y-yes, F-father…” You whimpered, tears dripping down your chin and onto your bare chest.

The loud slapping of skin against skin filled the cell, and you watched as your hole spread wider and wider, taking more of him with each punishing thrust.

“Louder, my child,” he hissed in your ear.

“Yes, Father!”

His hand was playing in your slippery folds, massaging your hidden bud and forcing you to clench hard around him from the pleasure. In the glass, you could see your hole trying in vain to twist itself shut, pumping him in a steady beat.

“Didn’t you pray to God for a prick like mine when you touched your filthy quim in your mirror?”

“Yes, Father!”

It was true. You had touched yourself, hoping that you might one day know the pleasure of being taken by a man. You had watched the mating of cattle in the field next to the abbey many a summer past, hanging clothes and sheets on the line, and yet all the while looking into the grassy glade, staring at the bull who would mount his cow and thrust his turgid rod into her to breed her deeply. And she would croon for him, and when he left her, the spent seed would hang in long, thick strings from the head of his phallus, making him wet and ready to sink his sword through its next sheath.

“And the Lord answered your prayers, did he not? Begging him for someone to breed you like this, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Father!”

Price was the bull, and you would be bred by him, and you would be cast out of God’s mercy forever. Ruined. Steeped in sin and tainted by lust.

“You smell like a ripe plum, my sweet child, and you’re just as soft in my mouth,” Price began to lick your neck from your sloping shoulder all the way to your earlobe, over and over, letting his spit cover your flesh. Then, he sank his fangs into your vein and began to drink from you in long, slurping sucks, swallowing your blood into his throat in audible gulps, moaning with each mouthful of your essence.

The venom of his demonic bite made your head cloudy and your will compliant.

“Touch yourself, my child,” he mumbled, quickly returning to his feast on your flesh.

You had no choice but to obey. You felt him increase his pace, his long cock bottoming out inside of you with each thrust, flinging his weight into you like a hammer. You began touching your breasts, pinching yourself gently as you watched your ruination unfold in the looking glass, helpless to stop it.

Then, you began to touch your rigid nub, taking over for him as he continued to drink from you. You made achingly slow circles around your most sensitive spot, and because you were so wet, you were able to go faster without any discomfort. You made yourself come quickly, jerking your hips against him as he fucked you, listening to him groan from the feeling of your tight hole trying to squeeze the come out of his body.

“Beg me for my seed, Sister. Beg me to spill it in you,” Price murmured, licking your neck in the spot where he had bitten to rub the taste of your blood across his tongue.

“Father, please… Please come in me. Spill in me… oh!”

You felt him jerk inside of you, and then you heard his growling orgasm rip through his body, his cock pulsing wildly, shooting ropes of creamy seed all over your walls, bursting through your tight, virginal core.

“So perfect for me, so perfect…”

Price caught his breath while he was still inside of you, panting and smiling against your neck before he pulled out of you, watching his invisible shaft slip through your cunt in the mirror, the gaping hole slowly shrinking before your eyes. As he retreated, you saw large strings of come drip out of you, white and endless, flowing out of you and onto the floor of the cell.

Father Price dressed himself in front of you, leaving you standing where he had last commanded you to be, admiring your ruined body. Once he clipped his collar back under his shirt and cloak, he stepped in front of you to pinch lightly at the tips of your nipples again, making you whimper like a hungry mutt.

“For all your virtues, Sister, you are prone to sin. An innocent such as yourself must be trained to resist the Devil. Come to my cell for confession every morning and every night. I promise,” he stroked your cheek and then your neck, right where he’d bitten you, “I will put my goodness deep inside of you, my child. Right here.”

His other hand came to touch your bare belly, gently caressing the skin and flesh that protected your womb.

“Yes, Father,” you said, trying to avoid his furious gaze, shaking with pure, gut-wrenching terror, understanding that for you, there was no escape. You were under his vampiric command, and if he wanted you, your body was going to obey. You’d taken the Mark of Cain on your neck, and the only hope for you now was to beg for his mercy.

“Take this mirror with you, my child. I want you to kneel in prayer over it, spread those plump legs wide, and I want you to watch my seed drip out of you. With every drop, you will thank God for me and my prick. When the Lord answers our prayers, it is our duty to be grateful.”

“Yes, Father,” you said, pulling your robes back on and adjusting your habit.

He handed you the mirror, and you took it with a crushing amount of shame, feeling his come still seeping in a steady stream out of your well-used hole.

As you left his cell, he smiled down at you, carefully petting your cheek,

“Don’t worry, my child. Your next confession is in only a few hours. You will feel the warmth of the Lord’s forgiveness again very soon.”

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