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#obx x male reader
bumblesimagines · 4 months
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this doesn't mean anything.
- Sarah Cameron
this doesn't mean anything.
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
Got carried away with this one
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In the world of the Outer Banks, Kooks were seen as untouchable. They were the stuck-up, spoiled, privileged kids who could do, say, or buy anything they wanted as long as they had daddy or mommy's credit card in their back pocket. They puffed out their chests, turned up their nose, and spat venom just because they knew they could. Their parents would flock and point fingers if any harm came to them, demanding Sherriff Peterkin and Deputy Shoupe do something about the 'dirty Pogues targeting their poor babies' as if Peterkin and Shoupe could do anything more than let them off with a warning or a brief night in a cell.
While they were utterly pathetic and useless, (Y/N) found them incredibly amusing. Nothing was better than watching the smugness get knocked right out of a Kook. Tears would immediately spring in their eyes and their perfect skin would stain with purple and red coloring that'd stay no matter how many ice packs they put to it. The Kooks that talked the biggest game were often the ones that squealed first in fights. Their scratchy, obnoxious voices would plead for mercy, shouting empty promises of staying away and never bothering them again. Rafe Cameron was the only one who could handle a little pain, but even then, the boy was as boring as watching paint dry. One look from his daddy dearest and he went away with his tail tucked between his legs. 
His sister, as (Y/N) came to learn, was a lot more fun.
"Remember the rules, guys. No hardcore drugs, don't get blackout drunk, and don't start anything without me." (Y/N) called out after his younger brother and his group of friends. He was certain the nerd would keep them out of trouble, as he always did when they hung out, but a reminder never hurt anybody. The four of them scampered further down the beach, kicking up sand in their wake and disappearing amongst the other teenagers. They weren't much younger than him, only a year or two below him in school, but they were as annoying as children and attracted trouble wherever they went.
Fishing his cigarette pack out of his jacket pocket and sticking one between his lips, he allowed his gaze to drift over the party-goers present. Pogues, Kooks, and a few tourists who appeared wildly out of place with their big sun hats blocking half their vision. He recognized Rafe and his posse of coked-up boys lingering near the water and Barry making use of eager Kooks and their heavy pockets. His attention dropped down to his lighter and he grunted when it refused to light for longer than a second.
"Maybe it's a sign you should quit." A feathery voice piped up behind him and he turned around to find the treasured princess of Figure Eight.
Everyone knew Sarah Cameron. She was the beloved daughter of Ward Cameron, the pride and joy of Figure Eight, and the most envied and desired girl in Kildare. Everyone tripped over themselves trying to be in her good graces, trying to get a taste of the Cameron wealth and status. Ever since she entered high school, he'd heard all about her numerous relationships. She lept from boy to boy and left a trail of broken, jealous hearts in her path. Her most recent boy toy had been Topper Thornton, the son of the renowned Doctor Thornton and grandson of Judge Holden. JJ had left enough bruises on him for (Y/N) to know him well. (Y/N) thought they looked more like siblings than lovers.
"Nobody ever taught you not to talk to strangers, princess?" 
"I would hardly call you a stranger." She said and lifted the mai tai in hand up to her pink-colored lips. Her eyes twinkled with the setting sun, lightening the deep shade of brown. "Everyone knows the Maybanks."
"And nobody likes them. You might have to forfeit your Kook card if you get caught talking to me, Miss Cameron." He cooed teasingly and she smiled despite herself, rolling her pretty eyes and brushing her hair away from her face when the wind gently tousled it. His eyes drifted down to the dark knee-length sundress she wore decorated in orange and yellow flowers. It looked better than what most of the girls from the Cut wore to fancy events.
"I don't care about my Kook card, (Y/N). I think this whole... Pogue vs Kook thing is so stupid. We're all living on the same island. Why should we be giving each other shit for where we were born?" 
"I'm sure you'll be a just and fair ruler, princess." His words made her roll her eyes again and she laughed quietly into her can. Even her drink of choice screamed rich. Everyone else stuck to cheap beer or half-filled bottles they stole from the kitchen cabinet when their parents weren't home. Sarah twirled a piece of her hair around her finger, glancing away from him and toward her friends. They hadn't noticed her yet and for a moment, (Y/N) expected her to call out to them and walk away. But she looked back at him with a familiar coy smile. 
"Wanna talk somewhere more... private?"
He wondered how annoyed John B would be when he learned he'd taken Figure Eight's princess back to his place. It'd been closer than the Maybank residence and had less chance of a drunken and drugged Luke staggering through the front door ready to ruin (Y/N)'s night. Kiara would certainly throw a tantrum about him sleeping with her ex-best friend and if Kiara got upset, Pope would quickly follow in defense of his crush. Annoying little shits but they made JJ happy and that was enough for (Y/N) to tolerate their shenanigans. 
Tugging up his pants and zipping them back up, he gazed at the dozing Kook. Her long blonde hair had been sprawled out over the dark pillowcase and she'd buried half her face in the pillow, her parted lips forming a small spot of drool. As content and comfortable as she looked, he needed her back home before she chose to overstay her welcome under false assumptions. 
"Hey, princess." (Y/N) reached down to move some strands of hair away from her face and shook her shoulder. She whined quietly and squeezed her eyes before rolling fully onto her stomach and burying her face further in the pillow defiantly. "You need to get going before Ward calls the cops 'cause his precious girl didn't come home."
Tiredly lifting her head, she squinted at him through the sunlight. "Are you worried about Ward or worried about what your friends will say?" 
"My friends won't give a shit about me taking the Kook princess's virginity, sweets." Her face reddened considerably and he smirked. "My brother's friends might get pissed if they see a Kook on our turf. And I don't want problems with Carrera. She makes good food."
Sarah finally sat up and raked her fingers through her hair to detangle the knots as she searched the floor for her belongings. Her eyes finally settled on her underwear and she pursed her lips, the tips of her ears turning a soft red. "You ripped them." She murmured and her fingers began to toy with the ends of her hair. 
"You didn't complain when I did it." (Y/N) scooped the sundress up from the floor and tossed it in her direction, arms folding over his chest while he watched her get dressed and rise from the bed. She awkwardly tugged at the dress and retrieved her torn underwear from the floor before shoving it into her purse and turning to face him. 
"So-"
"I can drop you off at Word for Word. It's the closest store to Figure Eight so one of your little friends should be able to pick you up. I'd drive you home but I've got work and Barry will kill me if I'm late again." (Y/N) explained quickly and slipped his shirt back on, snatching his keys from the nightstand and jerking his head toward the door when Sarah remained rooted in her spot. 
"That's it? You're just going to... ditch me in the middle of nowhere?" She stared at him in a mixture of surprise and irritation, and (Y/N) sighed, preparing the speech he often found himself telling those who couldn't catch a hint. He was a Maybank, for Christ's sake. Nothing about the men in his family screamed commitment. His father could hardly hold down a job and JJ was as much of a playboy as the next guy.
"Sarah, baby, this doesn't mean anything. I'm sorry if your feelings are hurt but I asked if you were sure and offered to drive you back like five times last night. If you wanted your first time to be with your soulmate, you should've let me know and I would've taken you back to your boyfriend. Now, unless you want to get into a screaming match with Kiara, I suggest you start figuring out who's taking you the rest of the way."
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untilwedont · 1 year
Text
Reassurance
Pairings: JJ Maybank x Kook!Male!Reader
Genre; Angst to fluff
Summary: The reader's been down lately and has been talking bad about himself. JJ notices and reassures the reader he's completely perfect.
Warnings: Insecure reader, implied smut towards the end, jj being goofy, not proofread
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You hated yourself and that was that. If somehow the Lord gave you a chance to literally reincarnate as anything else, you would. Sure, you had a nice home, lots of money, but that meant nothing to you. Your family was a hot mess to say the least. The only person keeping you from completely drowning in your sorrows was your boyfriend JJ.
He seemed to have been the only one that actually understood you and didn't use you for some occasional sex like every other guy in your life has done. But still, as much as you loved him, you kept the insecurities you had to yourself, just like you've done for your whole life.
You simply feared he'd use your insecurities against you one day, argument or not.
So there you were in your room, picking aparts the things you hate about yourself in the mirror, just as you did every day. First it was your legs, then nose, then body, and it just kept going. The more you looked at yourself, the more you wondered if JJ really loved you, or if he just looked at you as a joke.
You stood in the mirror shirtless, running your hands through your torso, then hips, you were so lost in judging yourself that you hadn't realized your window began to open. In came your blonde haired boyfriend, "Heya babe, miss me?" You snapped out of your trance and turned around to see your beloved boyfriend.
Shit, how were you gonna explain yourself this time?
"Woah, did I walk in on something? I mean if you wanna have sex right now, we can. You know I'm practically the sex god." He smiled with a goofy grin. "Oh, no.. er- I'm fine. Was just changing my shirt." You tried your best to sound like your usual self, but JJ knew something was wrong.. somehow
Maybe it was couples gut, but by your tone he knew something was off. "Hmmm, I don't think so babe. Somethings wrong, what's wrong?"
"Nothings wrong, J. I'm feeling great." You spoke, walking towards your bed and sitting on it, still shirtless. "A-Ah baby, tell me what's wrong. I won't take 'I'm fine' for an answer." You were silent for a moment, "Do you think I'm unattractive?" You blurted out. JJ was taken back by the question.
"What? Of course babe. I think your the handsomest guy on the planet. Why, is something wrong?" He placed his hand on your thigh, slightly rubbing it with his thumb.
"Really? I mean just look at me. My nose is too big, my body looks weird, not to mention my face is just... weird." Tears began to water your eyes as you forced yourself not to let those tears spill.
"Okay, babe, you gotta stop. Nothing's wrong with you, okay? Your nose is a perfect size, your body is immaculate, and your face is beautiful. So don't call yourself unattractive when you aren't, alright? I love you. I mean I'd literally die for you M/N." He placed his hand on your cheek and moved your head to face him. You looked into his blue eyes and smiled slightly.
"I love you so much J." You softly spoke and moved your head closer to his, placing your lips onto his soft ones.
What was supposed to be just a soft kiss turned into a heated makeout session. Your hands raveled in his soft, blonde hair as his hands explored your topless body. JJ's lips left yours so a moment and he spoke
"Let me show you how handsome you are to me."
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marrziy · 5 months
Text
Rafe Cameron x Male Reader
Entre Tapas, Ciúmes e Fodas (2/3)
Link: Parte 1
Avisos: relacionamento tóxico, palavrões, briga, discussão, violência, descrição de sangue e ferida.
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[• • •]
Foi ano passado que Rafe enfiou um canudinho no meu peito e começou a sugar os fragmentos de bom senso que compunham o meu caráter, deixando apenas o melhor do pior de mim, extraindo uma versão de mim mesmo que se harmonizava com a dele, ao mesmo tempo em que era tão reativa e corrosiva.
Somos parecidos, temos o combo do psicológico trincado, com problemas similares que espelham nossas personas. Encontrei nele, alguém que sabe bem como é ter uma cabeça fodida e entende o peso infernal disso.
Mas, no fim das contas, somos um caso perdido; juntos, só fazemos mal um ao outro. Ser parecido nem sempre é um bom sinal, às vezes, a equação de um mais um é igual a 'ele me machuca e eu machuco ele'.
Conheci o lado insano de Rafe após o nosso primeiro beijo. Ele era minha carona para uma festa na praia dos Pogues. Foi um período especial, pois estávamos no último ano do colégio, faltava pouco para a formatura e festejar nunca foi tão gostoso. Após virarmos copos e mais copos de álcool garganta abaixo, foi necessário apenas um olhar mútuo para concretizar o que já estava evidente. A encarada cruzada nos levou até o carro estacionado. A intenção de dar fim ao desejo que assolava a pele, estava fixada em nossas mentes embriagadas.
No banco traseiro, fizemos o carro balançar, transamos como se aquele tempo acalorado fosse o nosso último lapso de luxúria.
O toque intenso de Rafe deixou marcas, infelizmente nem todas foram literais. Olhar para os vergões nas minhas coxas e os roxos no pescoço era o de menos quando minha mente insistia em relembrar das sensações que me assolaram enquanto Rafe coloria minha carne.
Muito antes desse dia, um sentimento avassalador apunhalava meu peito. Minha paixão estúpida foi confirmada naquele domingo de verão festeiro, mas para Rafe, ele estava apenas bêbado.
Na segunda ficada ele estava chapado, na terceira foi por ele não ter achado ninguém, na quarta foi por eu ser o buraco mais próximo e a partir da quinta foda, ele já não tinha mais desculpas para disfarçar seu interesse vicioso em mim.
[• • •]
— É, tô sim. Sua irmã é boa organizando festas e JJ é uma ótima companhia. – meu tom apático maqueia a mágoa raivosa que faz meu interior borbulhar. Encaro Rafe com indiferença, enfrentando seu olhar determinado que batalha contra meu disfarce de quem não quer nada. — Agora, se me der licença, vou voltar a me divertir. – elevo a voz no "voltar", insinuando que com Rafe, qualquer bom sentimento é substituído pelo oposto extremo.
Ao invés de seguir meu caminho, passo os próximos segundos imóvel, querendo saber o que Rafe faria ou diria. Ele morde os lábios e desvia o olhar, seu corpo está tenso e suas mãos inquietas. Deixo escapar um riso soprado ao sentir familiaridade com a imagem de Rafe tentando se controlar, internalizando sua instabilidade. Ele fica assim quando as coisas não ocorrem como planejado. É intrigante presenciar sua tentativa desesperada de não surtar, mas qualquer coisa longe desse cara me soa mais convidativa, então passo por ele, esbarrando em seu ombro propositalmente.
— Espera aí! – a voz de Rafe vem acompanhada do seu toque firme. Ele segura meu pulso, me parando. Eu me viro em sua direção novamente e puxo meu braço com certa força, cortando o contato. Nossa interação captura a atenção de algumas pessoas próximas. — Precisamos conversar. – Rafe levanta as mãos na altura dos ombros e recua alguns passos. Sua voz, agora mansa e mais baixa, se assemelha a um sussurro.
Armadilha.
— Não temos nada pra conversar, Cameron. – Rafe franze as sobrancelhas quando o chamo pelo sobrenome. — Você deixou as coisas bem claras enquanto engolia aquela garota na minha frente. – minha frustração me guia até Rafe. Com a ponta do dedo indicador, pressiono seu peitoral repetidas vezes, uma mais intensa que a outra até fazê-lo tombar o torso. — Ela foi só um caso de um dia ou você também a fez de trouxa? Disse coisas bonitas, a elogiou, fez promessas...? – meu sorriso forçado contrasta com a raiva nos meus olhos marejados. Tudo em Rafe me irrita, tenho que me segurar para não levar meu punho fechado até seu belo rosto.
Ele olha ao redor, parecendo perceber o ambiente cheio e as pessoas que nos observam. — Porra, para de fazer cena! Vamos pra um lugar privado. – Rafe, meramente acuado, me encara com convicção, como se o caminho sugerido por ele fosse o único viável.
Solto uma risada incrédula, cobrindo minha boca antes que eu me contagie e comece a rir escandalosamente. — Tomar no cu você não quer, né? Vai se foder, Rafe. Pega um facão e usa de consolo.
Antes de me afastar, sinto uma necessidade ardente de deixar clara a nossa situação.
— Acabou. Nem por mil fodas eu toparia ter qualquer vínculo com você. Por favor, não me procure mais. Só some, caralho!
Mentira.
Enquanto adentro a floresta de corpos animados, a música alta dilacera qualquer pensamento pé no chão que possa aflorar ao passo que nutre uma sensação equivocada de poder e falsa noção de controle. No fundo, eu sei que se Rafe não me procurar, eu irei atrás dele. Ser dependente de uma pessoa é uma droga, ainda mais se o indivíduo for um filha da puta do caralho.
Assim que Rafe sumiu de vista e passou a ser somente memória, eu o ouço ao fundo, suas palavras próximas e seus passos ligeiros complementando o som que vem das várias caixas eletrônicas espalhadas pela casa. Foi tudo tão rápido que eu sequer soube como reagir.
— Você é tão teimoso, puta merda! – a mão de Rafe envolve meu antebraço. A força investida provavelmente deixará marcas, isso se já não deixou após o puxão que Rafe impulsiona, me arrastando consigo, guiando o caminho enquanto eu, inicialmente, apenas o sigo. Tenho um vislumbre avulso do semblante fechado de Rafe, sua irritação mais que evidente, esboçada em seu rosto e praticamente desenhada com suas ações.
Me encontro no início da escadaria, com Rafe me levando até o segundo andar. Tomo atitude quando sinto os músculos da região pressionada doerem. A dor leve, porém incômoda, me desperta do choque inicial e eu passo a puxar meu braço ao mesmo tempo que, com a mão livre, tento afastar os dedos Rafe, que rodeiam meu braço firmemente.
— Mas que merda, Rafe! Caralho! – eu xingo bravamente após Rafe responder meus protestos com um puxão potente, me fazendo tropeçar nos degraus da escada. Minha cara quase marca um date com o chão. — Seu pensador tá funcionando? Qual a porra do seu problema?!
Minha voz murcha a cada palavra e eu desisto de investir em uma discussão quando olho em volta e percebo uma boa parcela da festa parando de curtir a música para dar palco ao nosso showzinho. Muitos cochicham entre si. Eu me pergunto qual boato irá se espalhar para já inventar uma explicação para dar aos meus pais. Me contenho e apenas acompanho Rafe, não querendo dar conteúdo aos curiosos.
Encaro as costas do loiro mortalmente durante todo o percurso, desejando que as leis universais mudem as regras e aceitem o olhar feio como uma forma de assassinato.
A regata branca por baixo da camisa xadrez de tecido quase transparente ressalta os músculos das costas de Rafe, e ao caminhar, sua ossada flexionando destaca cada pedacinho da sua musculatura forte.
Me amaldiçoo por reparar nessas coisas em um momento feito esse, mas não tiro os olhos. Os bíceps de Rafe contraindo capturam minha atenção. Eu culpo o tesão acumulado.
Que inferno! Por que tão gostoso?
— Já pode soltar, eu tô indo! – à medida que trilhamos o corredor até o quarto de Rafe, a música cai alguns tons, ficando abafada conforme nos distanciamos do movimento. O Cameron me ignora, não me soltando nem para destrancar a maldita porta. O máximo que recebi até o momento foi seu olhar fechado, a expressão neutra e séria de sempre, a marra à qual costumo me render.
Ao entrarmos no belo cômodo, cantinho esse tão familiar para o meu eu nostálgico, Rafe tranca a porta com nós dois ali dentro. O barulho da fechadura é o ponto de largada que me faz mandar o autocontrole pra casa do caralho. Sem uma platéia para presenciar, não há muito que me impeça de deixar o meu rancor fluir.
Influenciado pela amargura aglomerada no peito, agarro o pulso de Rafe, afundando minhas unhas em sua carne. Eu retiro sua mão do meu braço, acariciando o local avermelhado e me distanciando alguns passos. Ao ver a marca de seus dedos no meu corpo, sinto a revolta palpitar dos pés a cabeça. Rafe alisar o pulso após meu contato ríspido com sua pele me deixa minimamente satisfeito.
— O que você quer? Diz logo, aí eu saio daqui e faço questão de nunca mais olhar na tua cara. – concentro meus péssimos sentimentos na ponta da língua e dos dedos. Estou a um passo de mostrar a Rafe o quão parecidos somos, o quão igualmente imperfeitos e instáveis podemos ser.
Dois desequilibrados em uma sala... O que poderia dar errado?
— Por que cê tá me evitando? Te mandei um monte de mensagens e você ignorou todas! Tentei ir na sua casa, seus pais não estavam e os empregados não me deixaram entrar. Porra... Até o seu aniversário eu perdi! – Rafe gesticula, movimentando as mãos freneticamente. — Eu não vejo aquilo que rolou na fogueira como um motivo, porquê eu e você não estamos em um relacionamento, ficar sentido por aquilo é ridículo!
Rafe se aproxima, segurando meus ombros com ambas as mãos. Vejo a confusão em suas orbes brilhosas. Ele não tenta apenas me convencer, mas também tenta provar a si mesmo que tudo não passa de uma intriga banal.
— Cê tá zoando, né? – meus lábios se curvam em um sorriso incrédulo. Assimilar as palavras de Rafe me faz franzir as sobrancelhas e pensar se ele realmente quis dizer aquilo. — Não estamos namorando, mas a única coisa que faltava era oficializar essa merda! O que tínhamos não era apenas carnal e você sabe disso, você mesmo disse, várias vezes! – as palavras saem com dificuldade da minha boca. Sinto minha garganta fazer nó ao lembrar das declarações de Rafe, do futuro que ele prometia e de todas as vezes que ele falou e demostrou que eu era especial, que a gente era algo único.
As normas não diziam que éramos exclusivos um para o outro, mas tudo caminhava para que algum dia, fossemos, e quebrar a cara, tendo a confirmação do contrário bem na sua frente, era doloroso.
Mas ao mesmo tempo eu me pergunto o porquê, já que Rafe parecia me querer na mesma intensidade que eu o queria. Acabo vendo essa situação como uma oportunidade para calar meus questionamentos e talvez dar fim ao desalento que me assola, então sufoco Rafe com perguntas, decidido a tirar dele as explicações que eu mereço.
— Foi realmente especial como você tanto dizia, ou tudo não passou de mentira? – agora é Rafe quem regride passos enquanto eu me aproximo do seu corpo vacilante. — Tudo que você já declarou a mim não valeu de nada? Algo que você já disse, alguma daquelas palavras bonitas, as coisas que você dizia sentir por mim... Alguma coisa foi sincera?
— Foi sincero! Cada palavra! – os lábios de Rafe se movem trêmulos, sua ansiedade evidente a cada gesto nervoso. Seu discurso é ligeiro, sua necessidade aflituosa de se explicar o faz transitar a fala, empurrando as palavras para fora sem pausa, ignorando a própria necessidade de respirar. — Eu me sinto a pessoa mais sortuda do mundo por ter te encontrado no meio de tanta gente. Você é meu porto seguro, ao seu lado, consigo passar o tempo sem pensar nas porcarias que tenho que lidar todos os dias. Consigo ser alguém diferente nos nossos momentos bons, chego a pensar que tenho salvação. A vida é tão menos vida longe de você... então por favor, acredite em mim quando digo que tudo que eu já declarei a você, sem excluir nenhuma palavra, veio do sentimento mais sincero que guardo no peito!
— Eu não acredito em você. – desvio o olhar, fraco demais para suportar o vislumbre da minha perdição. Sinto-me incapaz de permanecer com os olhos em Rafe, vendo nele a mesma fragilidade que possuiu minha alma quando senti nossa união danosa vazar entre meus dedos.
A constatação, mesmo que inserta de que algo bizarramente bom está morrendo, faz o peito arder. Rafe, tão quebrável, parece entender como eu me senti ao vê-lo se desprender do nosso elo especial.
— Queria acreditar, meu Deus do céu, como eu queria! Mas se fosse mesmo verdade, você não trataria algo que diz ter tanto apreço, como algo descartável, como um nada sem valor! – a porta de correr que divide o quarto da sacada está escancarada, dando passagem para a brisa gélida. Abraço meu corpo, esquentando os braços com o esfregar das mãos, pelo frio e por meu almejo de saciar minha necessidade de um abraço. — Você agarra essa coisa com todas as suas forças, cultiva e faz de tudo para que dure... Você simplesmente não joga tudo no lixo do dia pra noite!
O ar enche os pulmões do Cameron em descompasso, seu peito sobe e desce desregulado, cronometrando uma erupção de hora não marcada que a qualquer momento virá à tona.
[• • •]
Com Rafe, as coisas simplesmente aconteceram, tão naturais e graduais que eu não sei apontar o ponto de partida de nenhum avanço. Começamos a empatar quando não víamos necessidade e tampouco tínhamos vontade de buscar outros corpos além dos nossos. Me sentia grato por isso, pois quando o ciúme impregnou nossa redoma, o último cara que beijei além do Cameron, acabou sem os dois dentes da frente e Rafe ficou com a marca da arcada dentária do coitado no punho.
Estávamos tão imersos em nós, que esconder não era mais prioridade. Evitávamos expor a Deus e o mundo, mas se Deus e o mundo descobrissem... que se dane.
Mas para Rafe, seu pai era uma excessão que não fazia parte dessa exclusão.
O loiro, que tanto já se afundou, permaneceu na busca do orgulho ou mínima satisfação paterna, abdicando, muitas vezes, das próprias vontades para conseguir míseras migalhas do pai. Rafe já ultrapassou muitos limites para agradar Ward, agindo cegamente, concretizando coisas absurdas e as escondendo debaixo do tapete. Não estou situado sobre a maioria dessas merdas e não sei se gostaria de estar.
Mas os sinais estavam aí, eu que preferi ignorar.
[• • •]
— Não é simples como você faz parecer! – o marejar nos olhos de Rafe não traz apenas frustração, ele parece triste. — Nunca é simples... É tudo sempre tão complicado! – ele anda sem mudar de lugar, circulando no mesmo pedaço de chão enquanto gesticula sem propósito, sem apoio. — Você tem que entender que não é só sobre o que eu quero... Porque sem sombra de dúvidas, é você que eu quero!
— Então é sobre o querer de quem, Rafe? – eu questiono, com o chute certeiro da resposta piscando na minha cabeça.
Ward.
— Meu pai acha que isso é coisa de momento, ele não acredita no que temos... Ele disse que eu sou um jovem curioso, que estou aproveitando os prazeres da vida e que quando for hora de virar homem... – Rafe engole o embargo na garganta e eu tento não me influenciar por suas lágrimas presas. — Vou perceber que isso não passou de desejo, que todo homem tem dessas... Ele falou que vou deixar isso de lado e focar no que interessa.
Nada tira da minha cabeça que o senhor Cameron já deu o rabo e gostou. Certeza que ele se casou e teve filhos para evitar o vício na queimação de rosca.
— E você concorda com isso? O que interessa pra você? De verdade... – diminuo nossa distância. Face a face, me perco naqueles olhos, um mar azul de marejo. — Você não precisa disso, não tem que ser assim! Rafe... O que você quer? O que é importante pra você? Pra você! Não para o seu pai. Me diz...
Minhas palavras são passíveis para qualquer resposta, mas no fundo, estou implorando para que Rafe diga que nós dois somos o que importa.
E lá estava eu, rendido novamente.
— O que eu quero não importa... Enfim, se era um porquê que você queria, aí está ele. Beijei aquela garota por não ver um futuro com você. Eu sou um kook, um herdeiro, meu destino é assumir o sobrenome da família e expandir o nosso sangue. – não sinto veracidade nas palavras vacilantes de Rafe, vejo apenas um cara carente pelo afeto do pai replicando o querer do tal para preencher um buraco vazio.
Estou farto.
— Então você não se importa se eu descer lá pra baixo e dar de língua na boca gostosa do JJ? – meu sorriso é instantâneo quando vejo Rafe me encarar de imediato, seus olhos cerrados e a expressão se tornando irritadiça.
Cansado de me frustrar com as questões pertinentes do loiro e magoado demais para insistir, apenas jogo tudo para os ares, fingindo aceitar a situação e encarnando num falso foda-se.
A máscara de Rafe cai com ele demonstrando incômodo de prontidão.
O Cameron prende o olhar no presente de JJ no meu pescoço. Notei sua curiosidade quanto ao colar minutos atrás, mas agora, mencionando o Maybank, ele foca totalmente no objeto, encucado e nervoso, provavelmente por nutrir suspeitas, já que antes de me ver conversando com o Pogue, eu não usava nada naquela parte do corpo.
— Que merda é essa no seu pescoço?
— Eu fiz uma pergunta antes de você, gracinha. Você tem que me responder primeiro.
— Foda-se a porra da sua pergunta! De onde você tirou isso? – Rafe inclina o corpo sobre a minha figura imóvel, usando a ponta do indicador como gancho para agarrar o cordão preto que envolve meu pescoço.
— Você é ridículo! – um sorriso de escárnio enfeita meus lábios e um riso quase me escapa. A situação é tão inacreditável que não posso evitar. — Eu não tirei de lugar nenhum, JJ me deu. – me emputece ver Rafe expressar sua raiva quando esse direito devia ser somente meu. — Foi presente. Lindo, né? – mas agora, não dou a mínima, quero apenas que Rafe sinta mais do gostinho que ele me fez sentir.
— Você não se valoriza ou seu critério que é baixo? Se pelo menos fosse um Kook, mas não, você resolve logo dar bola pra um Pogue. Sinceramente M/n, esperava mais de você... – reviro os olhos quando Rafe exibe aquele maldito sorriso de canto. Talvez minhas pernas estejam moles. – Cadê aqueles que eu te dei? Os de marca? Garanto que valem mais que essa... coisa.
— De fato, eu não sou criterioso, mas nem você consegue discordar que JJ é uma puta beldade, tanto é que tu só conseguiu usar a bosta do seu elitismo contra ele, já que não tem o que criticar... – na maior sonsidade, enrolo uma mecha do cabelo de Rafe no dedo, brincando com seus fios. — E sobre as jóias que você me deu, bem... Devo ter esquecido uma ou outra no meu quarto, mas a maioria está vagando em outros corpos. Doei todas. – ver o rosto de Rafe contorcido em choque e revolta fez minha noite. A respiração dele chicoteia minha bochecha e eu finjo não arrepiar. — Independente do preço delas, vejo muito mais valor no presente de JJ.
Essa foi a gota que fez transbordar.
Rafe aperta minha mandíbula com força, obrigando meus lábios a moldarem um biquinho. Seguro o pulso do Cameron quando sinto dor nos músculos do rosto.
Mas percebo, tarde demais, que minha atenção devia estar na outra mão do loiro, a que ele usa para segurar o cordão no meu pescoço.
Foi muito rápido, eu não consegui impedir Rafe de enrolar o colar entre os dedos e puxar. A pele da minha nuca esquenta com o friccionar momentâneo da linha fina, que arrebenta após o puxão. Todas as peças que decoravam o cordão voam pelo quarto, aterrissando no piso de madeira. O som da conchinha branca se partindo faz eco nos meus ouvidos.
Como toda ação tem uma reação, no mesmo instante em que o colar deixa de enfeitar meu pescoço, eu desço a pulseira de prata do meu pulso para minha mão.
Eu sei o que estou fazendo e faço para machucar.
Com a palma aberta, acerto o rosto de Rafe, sem poupar força. O estalo é alto, o impacto o faz soltar minha mandíbula e ele cambaleia para trás. Vendo a fina camada de sangue na pulseira que rodeia minha palma, posso fantasiar com o arranhão que desenhei na bochecha de Rafe, ferida que ele cobre com a mão.
O remorso que sinto é direcionado a mim mesmo, já que a culpa não me afligiu em momento algum.
Eu estava prestes a abrir a boca, mas sou interrompido pelos dedos de Rafe cercando minha garganta, substituindo minha fala por um gemido desgostoso. A expressão do Cameron é indecifrável enquanto ele aperta meu pescoço, andando a passos pesados para frente enquanto me faz dar passos incertos para trás, me obrigando a caminhar de costas, ou melhor, me arrastar, já que mal consigo firmar os pés.
Não é como se já não tivéssemos chegado a esse ponto.
Sempre acaba da mesma maneira...
Até a próxima (e última) parte do imagine! Vai ter hot hein... 👀
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mrmaybank · 1 year
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Masterlist
Request are open. I write for male and GN reader and for all the fandoms below more will be added!
OBX
JJ Maybanks
𝓞𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓼 𝓐𝓽𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽 (M!READER)
John B Routledge
Kiara Carrera
Rafe Cameron
𝓦𝓪𝓼 𝓘𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾’𝓿𝓮 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓚𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷 (M!READER)
Sarah Cameron
Topper Thornton
Pope Heyward
Marauders Era
Regulus Black
James Potter
Sirius Black
Remus Lupin
Lilly Evans (Potter)
Peter Pettigrew
Barty Crouch Jr
Evan Roiser
Marlene Mckinnon
Dorcas Meadows
Pandora lovegood
PJO/HOO
Nico Di Angelo
Percy Jackson
𝓑𝓪𝓭 𝓐𝓽 𝓖𝓸𝓸𝓭𝓫𝔂𝓮𝓼 (M!READER)
Annabeth Chase
Frank Zhang
Luke Castellan
Jason Grace
Piper Mclean
Will Solace
Connor Stoll
Travis Stoll
Platonic
TMR
Newt
Minho
𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓜𝓮 (M!READER)
Gally
Thomas
Ben
Aris
platonic 
HP
Cedric Diggory
Harry Potter
Hermione Granger
Ron Weasley
Draco Malfoy
Blaise Zabini
Fred Weasley
George Weasley
Oliver Wood
platonic
TBP
Finney Blake
Vance Hopper
𝓐 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓱 𝓟𝓸𝓲𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓔𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴 (GN!READER)
𝓙𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓜𝓾𝓬𝓱? (M!READER)
Bruce Yamada
Robin Arellano
Griffin Stagg
Billy Showalter
Buzz
Matty
Matt
platonic
DC
Jason Todd
𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓒𝓪𝓷’𝓽 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓓𝓝𝓐 (M!READER)
𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼 𝓜𝔂 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 (M!READER)
Harley Quinn
Dick Grayson
Damian Wayne
Tim Drake
Bruce Wayne
Duke Thomas
platonic
Marvel
Tony Stark
Thor
Loki
Steve Rogers
Sam Wilson
Bucky
Peter Parker
Platonic
IT
(i’ll do chap one and two)
Richie Tozier
Bill Denbrough
𝓘𝓽 𝓦𝓪𝓼 𝓢𝓸 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓵 (M!READER)
Beverly Marsh
Ben Hanscom
Eddie Kaspbrak
Stanley Uris
Mike Hanlon
Henry Bowers
𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓦𝓱𝓸 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓦𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭𝓷’𝓽 𝓓𝓸 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 (M!READER)
Patrick Hockstetter
Victor Criss
Belch Huggins
Platonic
Stranger things
Eddie Munson
Nancy Wheeler
Billy Hargrove
Steve Harrington
Mike Wheeler
Will Byers
Jonathan Byers
Lucas Sinclair
Max Mayfield
Dustin Henderson
Eleven “Jane” Hopper
Eden Bingham
Platonic
Scream
(I’ve only watched the first one i’m gonna try to watch the rest throughout the week)
Stu Matcher
Billy Loomis
Randy Meeks
Dewey Riley
Platonic
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ayowhatnah · 1 year
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Me when I see jj
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pariahsparadise · 4 months
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Can we get an enemies to lovers with JJ Maybank x gn!reader-
JJ and reader just annoy the hell out of each other, but maybe A gets into a fight and B decides to patch them up. They end up confessing to each other. <3
nav. | m.list
a/n: i haven't written in over a year, maybe two. this is completely unedited and also not proofread AT ALL. sorry this is so late and so shitty, anon from april 2023.
pairings: jj maybank x gn!reader
wc: 1.3k
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"What are you doing here?"
JJ starts, and is immediately punished by the pang of pain that rushes through his body. He pretends not to notice how your eyes glance over him, analytical, filing away every sign of weakness. He hates being vulnerable, especially when it's in front of you, but he doesn't exactly have a choice.
"Can I come in?" he asks, instead of answering your question. Wordlessly, you step aside, letting him walk past you before closing the door softly.
"Bedroom," you tell him, your tone gentler now. He wishes that's how you always talked to him. "I'll go get the first-aid kit."
JJ nods and finds his way to your bedroom, passing the framed certificates and shelves that adorn the hallway, filled with stacks of trophies and medals that you amassed over the years. Although he usually makes fun of you for being such a nerd all the time, the gold is a stark reminder of how you're actually extremely intelligent. You're worth something. Unlike him.
Maybe his issue with you has always been jealousy. Jealous that you've managed to achieve so much for a Pogue, despite having had the same opportunities as him. But it's more likely that he hates you because you're so icy, rational in your arguments, your words always so polished as they slice into him, cutting him down. He can see the judgement in your eyes when he smokes weed or drinks in front of you, when he cracks a stupid joke about the brunette he had in his bed the other day. He can feel the contempt in the insults you hiss at him when he goes too far and pisses you off completely.
But despite it all, he hates that he still wants to win your approval. That he wishes you would let him make you laugh like John B does, or sling an easy arm around you the way Kiara can.
He sits on your chair when you gesture for him to, placing the medical kit on the table next to it. JJ finally takes the time to focus his eyes on you, glancing over your white night shirt and impossibly short shorts. He feels a pang in his chest. There are dark circles under your eyes, and your hair is all messy. He obviously woke you up from some much-needed sleep. If he plans to win you over, which would already be extremely hard at this point, this would definitely be another set-back. Based on his past experiences, you're not particularly kind when you're sleep-deprived.
Which is why he's surprised when you begin cleaning his bleeding knuckles with the kindest touch in the world. The warm cloth is not nearly as comforting as the feel of your palm on his skin is, and he represses the urge to sigh.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" you ask him, moving on to apply some antiseptic to his cuts.
"Why should I tell you anything?" JJ asks, attacking you unthinkingly, reverting to his natural state of being in conflict with you. You stay uncharacteristically quiet, not responding to his taunt, and after standing still for a second, you go back to cleaning his knuckles.
Fuck. JJ's eyes fall shut, and he groans inwardly. Here you are, having let him into your home and bedroom, cleaning his injuries, and he's still being a dick to you.
"I'm sorry, I-" he suddenly gets cut off by your hands cradling his jaw, lifting his face up. JJ nearly gasps, and flushes out of his embarrassment when he sees your raised eyebrow, knowing you caught his reaction.
"Well, I was just going to apply some cream to the bruises forming here," you say, and you trail your fingers along his jaw, "but if it's such a problem, maybe I-"
"It's not a problem," JJ says, too quickly.
Without another word, and only the sliver of a self-satisfied smile, you treat his jaw and face.
JJ has always known he loves being the center of your attention. He revels in it, the way you glare at him after he provokes you, the way you yell when he steals your book. He loves being the only thing on your mind. But sitting here now, feeling your thumbs smooth along his cheekbones and your soft gaze, he knows there's most definitely a better way to receive it.
"What happened?" you ask again, and this time he tells you. Some tourists had been disrespectful to Kiara's parents at their restaurant, and it escalated to a fist fight between Kiara's dad and JJ and four other guys. The tourists must have had some level of common sense, because they more or less went easier on Kiara's dad, laying harder into JJ to make up for it.
"Assholes," you say when he's finished, barely concealed rage in your eyes as you appraise JJ and the injuries on his body with new context.
"It's fine, really," JJ reassures you, standing up. "Thanks for cleaning me up, but I should be on my way now-"
"Sit the fuck down." you spit at him, and he drops back into the chair with astonishing speed. "Take off your shirt. That fight was practically four-on-one, I'm not going to believe that you walked away with just grazed knuckles and a few bruises to your face."
Hesitantly, JJ removes his shirt. To your credit, you don't audibly react to the massive craters in his skin, colouring him in shades of ugly red and purple. Your eyes widen slightly, and after a few long seconds, you're back to normal and treating him with the same gentleness as before.
"Thank you for this," he says, more earnestly this time. You let out a hum in response, too busy doing your best to alleviate his pain. He goes on, "I mean it. You didn't have to do this, and I appreciate it."
You let out a sigh, raising your eyes to his face, "Of course I had to do this, JJ, it's the decent thing to do. I wasn't going to turn you away in the middle of the night, not in the condition you're in."
"Even if you think I'm some heartless bitch," you add, a moment later.
"I don't think that," JJ says, earning a scoff from you.
"Right," you mutter, straightening up and away from him. You pack the materials back into the kit and shut it with a loud snap, which is when JJ realises that you're done treating him. He puts his shirt back on and gets ready to make his exit when you stop him, again.
"Just sleep here tonight," you tell him, gesturing at your bed.
"What-no. Where will you sleep?"
"The couch." You don't even let him say two words of protest before immediately cutting him off, "Don't be obstinate. It's too uncomfortable there for you, especially considering the state of your torso, it's too late for you to walk back home or call someone to pick you up, so you'll stay here. I'll text John B to pick you up in the morning."
JJ listens to all this, taken aback by the amount of thought you've put into taking care of him. He scans your face, noting with surprise that your cheeks pink slightly when you make eye contact with him.
"What?" you say, a little flustered. He just laughs quietly, "Nothing. Just didn't realise you cared about me so much, 's all."
"Again, not a heartless bitch. Of course I care about you."
And just like that, there's a tectonic shift. The two of you are relatively unchanged, but there's this unspoken understanding that passes between you. It's the reason why you're able to press a soft kiss to an unblemished part of JJ's cheek before you slip out of the room, and why he's able to put his arm around you late one night when the whole group is hanging out at the Chateau.
He can't help but feel that the beating was worth it, really.
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devilsjacket · 11 days
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soft boy!rafe who loves when you run your fingers through his hair and praise him. He loves how heating you say how well he’s done and how proud of him you are, the soft scent of your cologne tickling his nose as he moves closer to your chest.
“You’re making me proud rafe” you mutter, kissing the crown of rafe’s hair and smiling, feeling him press closer to you. He can’t get enough of hearing it, sometimes even asking for you to repeat it, just to feel that wave of affection wash over him once more.
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thewriterg · 6 months
Text
𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐟𝐭
pairing(s); jj maybank x male!reader,
summary; from chasing gold, running from authority, and having having more near death experiences than you should at your age you and jj was as thick as thieves it was unfortunate that he couldn’t quite fully commit to you or his true current self —kinktober day; 25—
word count; 800+
warning(s); smut, kisses, hickeys, angst, homophobe luke maybank, hoping for the impossible, you both are 18 🤸🏾‍♀️, and language
A/n:—GIFs; @fdastory & @sarahmichellesgellar— I missed a day so two fics today because I’m quite literally getting over a concussion 💀 (GIFs do not determine race of r)
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It was sacred to say the least, but that’s what it should’ve been. It’s what it was at the end of the day How could you be explain JJ Maybank to someone who’d never faced him before in less than three words it was simple; loyal, curious, and the love of your life
until he wasn’t
The blondes on top of you prepping kisses down your neck occasionally leaving a bruise that would darken by the morning time when the sun came up allowing the bloomed ladybugs and butterflies in your stomach time to rest from their continuous flying and fluttering, to give your lively heart a break from its abnormal accelerating while it beats against your ribs in your chest it’s gonna beat out, it’s gonna rip out your skin and jump into his hands while he will stares down at it and you wait to see if he’ll engulf it into him accept it as a part of him, or if he would drop it in disgust.
“You’re so pretty baby… such a pretty boy, my pretty boy” JJ whispers while you’re groaning at the phrase the sound of your pleasure going straight down to his cock that was buried into you the own head of your length red and angry looking leaking pre cum from your slit your warm walls are wrapped around him mixed cum rimmed around both of your stretched holes a reminder how you absolutely rocked his shit fucked him like you hated his guts until the very end until it was his turn to bring you back down to earth with his slow and deep thrust that edged the tip of your prostate
“F-fuck, don’t talk like that or I’m g’nna cum” You were panting out of breath like a dog in heat and the pale skinned boy could feel your erection lying flat against his stomach while he was atop of your figure when he felt the flat of your palms pressed against him fondling his ass in your hold mirroring your wolf like grin stomach dropping before picking up again until you begin to feel your chords chip off piece by piece indicating you were close and you could tell the blonde was too by his sudden needs to be vocal while his hip stuttered there rut into you causing you to move your fingers up the bottom half of his lower body those blue eyes that reflected the Ocean nowhere to be seen while he tucked his face in your neck hiding in your warmth needy voices that demanded your attention traveling right up to your ear drum while you took control of the blondes hips grinding him against yourself goosebumps the sizes of dimes appearing on your skin until you felt hot ropes shooting up into you and with a clenched of your hole your cum covered the blondes stomach
You both sat there panting making no mover to get up anytime soon you press a kiss to JJs grown out mane stray pieces of hair sticking to his sleek covered forehead while he didn’t same to you neck occasionally running his teeth over your pulse point making you shiver while his cock was plunged into you locking in his cum that had yet to spill from your depth basking in the peaceful comforting silence until you heard the front door swing open and JJ felt how you tensed under him and he moved barely an inch to lie his head on your chest it made you deflate just a little yet it was enough for him
“JJ!” The rough voice of his father carried through the house and he squeezed his eyes shut before yelling back a sound of acknowledgement the drunk mumbling about his footsteps rummaging around the house until they stopped abruptly probably when he crashed on the couch you try not to smile at him overcoming it by not hiding you going to kiss his pink plump lips but of course, a second spoke too soon.
“We can’t” He grumbled getting up from his position on top of you to sit beside you and you sat up suit your arms resting on your knees as you sight turned gaze fixed to him
“Why not?” It was a true, honest, question you had why couldn’t you kiss outside of having sex why could he tell Luke to go fuck himself on anything other he had negative to say or tried to put input on a decision in his life yet went hush puppy when it came to you it made you sick as you watched those piercing electric orbs stare into you
“I wish you were a girl”
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©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify
Took me like 3 years to fully commit and stop being a pussy to writing a male reader
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whyareyouhere66 · 1 year
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JJ Maybank x Male Reader - You Are Home.
JJ Maybank *Outerbanks* x male kook reader [Sarah’s brother]
I did it, just like I said I would. Enjoy y’all. [Two more days till season 3!]
x
“It's always have and never hold
        “You've begun to feel like home…”
                    [-The Fray, I’ll Look After You, 2005]
Outer Banks, North Carolina. More specifically, Figure Eight.
The air that whirled around him was warm, the island’s nonchalant charm lulling him into a sense of calm. Sure, the faint arguing that drifted in from downstairs was distracting, but alas- in Y/n’s tired state he wanted nothing more to ignore it, and stay in the welcoming breeze from the window sill of the large, white house.
In his hands he twisted and untwisted the cap of his water bottle, eyes still watching over the navy blue shadow reflecting from the sky. He tried focusing in on the sounds coming from outside, the wind’s song flowing through the ocean waves around the corner. However this proved to be more and more difficult, when he repeatedly broke out of his zoned out state and was dragged back into the growing yelling coming from Ward and Rafe downstairs.
Rafe’s persistent arguing, the frustration becoming more and more clear in Ward’s normally calm, manipulative tone. 
“Hey, please let’s just-“
“No- no I’m done talking about this.”
“Let me finish, Rafe….”
Y/n let out a frustrated groan, after Rafe had blown yet another college interview it seemed Ward’s patience was bubbling down to the final straw, dragging the rest of the family into it as they heard and watched it all in the emptiness of the house.  
Y/n forced his gaze away from the outside world, looking around at his dimly lit room. Perhaps he should go to see Wheezie, check on Sarah. He knew how the latter especially hated conflict, though Wheezie herself seemed more drawn into her phone recently. 
But it was never a waste to check in. 
The h/c boy steps away from the white window sill, closing and locking it as he’d been taught. 
The bright lights from the hallway jumped at him, his eyes taking an extra moment to adjust as the downstairs argument became more clear. It seemed everyone in the  house had been more on edge recently, Ward tensing at short conversation and Sarah beginning to pull away more and more.
Y/n himself had always found himself closer to the side than anything, both him and Wheezie often being sat on the bleachers while the rest played at the game. Ward could acknowledge them as his kids, drag them around to events and all, but they each knew that they were never his first priority. 
Sarah, center of attention of course, had it all laid out for her since day 1. A legacy, a throne of you will, being built for her the day Ward laid eyes on her- his daughter, his child. She was his pride and joy, leaving the rest of the family to sit and applaud as he spoiled her. 
Y/n used to fight for it, too. Being born solely a year prior, his naive, 6 year old mind could never grasp why Sarah had been deemed the golden child. He still couldn’t really, but overtime it became more and more clear that nothing would ever change. And while he still found himself there, by the same window sill he had been today, he looked out at the family’s extravagant garden and wondered- “why?”
Rafe was the same way. Being born first in the family he still found himself pushed off to the side, set to watch his father grow instead of growing there with him. However, unlike Y/n, he never accepted it. He clung to any bits or pieces of his father he had, wanting nothing more to impress the man. 
But Ward Cameron was a hard man to impress, especially when it came to the majority of his own blood. And when you stumble as often as Rafe himself had, another rung in the twisted, family ladder falls.
The hallway, covered in old paintings and dainty floral wallpaper, led Y/n down its paths until he found himself at Wheezie’s room. 
2 knocks, 3, and Y/n stands awkwardly in front of the tall white door. 
“Wheezie?” He calls, looking at the floor with his hands shoved into his pockets. A ringing silence fills the hall, as he receives no answer.
“Wheezieeee, you alive in there?”
Curiously, the h/c grabs the golden handle and twists- peaking his head into the room. 
Lights still on, he found his sassy little sister asleep on her bed- curled into a ball blended with the comforter. He paused for a second, wondering how she managed to sleep through the houses overwhelming ringing, as well as the mindless and repeated shouts from all around. But when his eyes landed on the small, white buds poking out of her ears and tangling with her hair he put it together.
“Smart kid..” 
His hands slide up the wall, reaching the light switch before he flips it off. 
“G’night, weirdo” he mumbles, closing the door behind him as his bare feet pad down the hallway once more.
It was at this point that Y/n decided against checking in on Sarah, knowing that not only their somewhat strained relationship would create an awkward tension, but also that the chances of her sneaking out her window again were far over likely.
So instead the teen trudged down the stairs, making a beeline to the kitchen to replace the water bottle he’d been fidgeting with just minutes before.
The further down the long staircase he walked, the more he was able to see of the rest of his family. 
The tense fighting between Rafe and Ward had settled into the living room, stray documents and pamphlets scattered across fancy glass coffee tables as one man stood on each side.
They went back and forth, back and forth with the blonde boy starting, his father following closely in suite. 
With the roll of his eyes, hand sliding down on the wooden banister, Y/n neared the bottom of the staircase. 
“Dad I don’t need to go to college- I’m fine here.”
“Yeah? Yeah well I’m not Rafe. This is not…”
Rose watched on uncomfortably, sat in a stool next to the kitchen’s island. With an open laptop in front of her, and a half empty glass of wine, she stared on at the two with her eyebrows furrowed. Y/n could see her now, stepping off the final stair as he untwisted the lid of his water bottle. Back now turned to his father and brother, he could only see her in front of him. 
The h/c heard voices rise, the urge to go back up to his room growing stronger in his mind. 
“I knew I should’ve checked on Sarah-“
Just as he steps forward again, no less than 10 feet from the staircase, he heard it.
The painful slap, a harsh hit of skin on skin contact, echoes through the now silent room. He could see Rose’s eyes widened, sitting up straight suddenly as she stared in shock. 
Y/n freezes, slowly and almost hesitant as he turns around in his spot. 
Rafe’s face was turned away, mouth agape. Ward’s hand was still outstretched, a soft and lamented look filling his eyes as he seemed to finally realize what he’d done. 
The fights had been happening for weeks now. 
But never had it ever gotten physical- not once. Ward always took Rafe for granted, this was well evident in the claustrophobic walls of the Cameron house. But Ward had enough sense to not bring it to a physical level, his heart belonged to his family, he never purposely damaged that. 
In a small moment of panic, Ward stepped away. His hand retracted, firm against his chest as he cleared his throat. 
“Rafe-“
“Wow, dad…wow.” 
The blonde’s voice is full of malice, chuckling deeply as he turned to look at the man. His voice lowers to a whisper again, eyebrows furrowed down.
“Wow.”
In the matter of a minute, perhaps two, Rose is up and rushing forward to stop the fight like she’d been wanting to for minutes on end. Blood rushed away from Y/n’s knuckles, his grip on the bottle tightened extremely. In the back of his mind he still heard them, Ward rushing to his own defense as Rafe riled himself up more. Rose’s desperate, annoying pleads as she stood between them. 
But he wasn’t truly there, not present in the moment. His head screamed at him to leave, the need for fresh air bubbling over as he felt too fed-up with his family to stay another moment. 
And so Y/n left, stormed out of the building before the other 3 could do more than notice him. 
Swiftly grabbing the car keys off the counter, stuffing his feet into his shoes, the h/c rushed out to his car and ducked into the drivers seat. 
He knew he hadn’t been the one to get slapped, the one to yell and scream in the fights. But if he had to sit in his room one more night, the air thick and heavy from this scrambled family’s tension he just might suffocate. 
Trees blurred past him, eyes zoned onto the road ahead of him as his brain went into autopilot- driving him to the one place he felt he must be. 
“JJ…”
The blonde boy, although a Pogue, offered him an embrace like no other. It should feel wrong, it’s supposed to be, but for whatever reason it didn’t, it felt right. Y/n could never recall how they’d come to be- in fact at the beginning the boys tried keeping it at “no strings attached”. But, they couldn’t help it- he felt like home. 
JJ’s laugh, his voice, the warmth that would emit off his body whenever Y/n got too close. He wasn’t supposed to love him, his family’s reputation laid on the line- but he just didn’t want to stop himself. This wasn’t the first time one of them had run off to meet the other in the heat of the moment, sometimes in the middle of the night, others simply in broad daylight. It seemed the small compass engraved into Y/n’s brain was constantly pointing in JJ’s direction. 
The more these thoughts flowed through Y/n, the more agitated he grew as he sought out the comfort he needed. His grip on the wheel was firm, mind a haze as he could see JJ’s near empty house coming into view. After the seemingly hundreds of times driving here, as if it was muscle memory, Y/n had barely realized he had made it to the Cut. 
Y/n came to a stop in front of the house, taking a sharp breath. He snatched the keys from ignition, hopeful eyes leading him out of the car and onto the porch. That house, so different from his own, lured him in yet again.
All his thoughts seemed to fizz inside his head, bubbling and sizzling away so distantly, yet so present he could hear them still. Keys gripped in his hand tightly, fist knocking against the old door no more than 3 times before he squeezed his eyes shut. 
“Answer the door, Maybank…” the teen mumbled, running a hand through his hair as his felt his muscles tensed in his shoulders. 
Inside some shuffling was heard, the squeaks of door hinges alerting Y/n as he spun around to meet the blue eyed boy. 
“Y/n? What-“ 
He looked confused, immediately taking note of Y/n’s dazed face and disheveled appearance. In the back of his mind, he felt he knew why Y/n was there.
Y/n opened his mouth to talk, stepping forward. JJ didn’t wait for him, jutting his head towards the door as to invite the h/c inside.
It wasn’t too long before Y/n was situated at the couch, fed up and frustrated. JJ followed close behind him, stopping at the door way almost hesitantly, for he’d only seen the boy act that way a handful of times. It was more recent that the two began to open up to each other, the intimacy they would share building an odd sense of trust, a safe space within each other that before they didn’t know they were capable of.
Though JJ had noticed that almost each time, it was due to something from that of the Cameron house. And so, he had a feeling he already knew what this was about. 
The blonde moved forward from the door way, until he was standing in front of Y/n on the couch. The latter was almost doubled over, curled into himself with his elbows on his knees to hold his head up. His chest rose up and down heavily, fingers tangled with his h/c hair. JJ raises one eyebrow, sitting on the small table just a foot or so in front of the sofa. 
“Y/n? Hello, you with me? What happened?”
Y/n sucks his teeth, hands sliding down his face. 
“I’m so done with them, JJ.”
He didn’t have to say any names for the blonde to understand, it was almost always the same 2 or 3 people. And so he doesn’t ask any more questions, instead leaning closer to the boy in an attempt to give any sort of comfort. 
JJ Maybank didn’t know too much about comfort, after all. 
Years of not having the right comfort, not knowing how to give it, etc lead him to taking guesses, cracking jokes until one of the Pogues finally told him he wasn’t being helpful. 
Perhaps, that’s why he always felt so attracted to Y/n Cameron. 
“-I’m so fucking sick of it, they don’t,” Y/n pauses, trying to think of the right words to describe his mess of a family, “they fight, then pretend it’s all fine. And I normally can suck it up, or whatever, but I just- right now-“
He stumbles over words, frustration building up until he’s saying too many things at once to finish one thought, before another starts. 
However he’s cut off, rambling suddenly turned silence as he feels JJ’s hands now cupping his face. The boy had leaned forward, sitting just on the edge of the coffee table, his face a mix of confusion and worry. Y/n’s shoulders drop, melting into the warmth of JJ’s hold. 
“Hey, hey it’s alright-“ JJ comforted, finally getting a voice over Y/n’s thoughts. His e/c eyes finally move to meet the bold blues of JJ’s, swallowing a thick lump in his throat. “Just breathe, ok? I’ve got you now..”
Y/n listened, his shaky hands moving to rest on top of JJ’s, his face sandwiched in the middle. Eye contact never breaks between the two as the blonde coaxes Y/n into steady breathing, thumb shifting gently to rub comforting circles into his cheeks. 
As Y/n finally feels a sense of stability, now much more aware of the floor under his feet and the walls that surround him, he laughs. It’s not awkward, much closer to embarrassed than anything, and it’s just enough to bring a small sense of relief into JJ’s system. 
“I’m sorry, that was, sudden.” He laughs out, tilting his head up to the ceiling. But JJ doesn’t accept that, shaking his head. 
“Nope- no. No saying sorry.” He states firmly, his blonde hair falling messily across his forehead. He stands up, bringing the h/c up with him. Their hands have now separated, leaving a lingering warmth across the other teen’s face where they had been before. 
Y/n doesn’t even get a moment to protest, as JJ has already swung an arm around his shoulders and leads him to his bedroom. 
“JJ-“
“Nope, nah uh.” 
He turns around, them now standing in the middle of JJ’s messy room. “You-“ he jabs a finger into Y/n’s chest, “-just had a panic attack, amigo, you’re staying over here tonight.”
Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, a smile plays at his lips, amused. He no longer had any intentions of protesting, knowing that he didn’t want to leave anyways. Instead he turned around to watch JJ scrummage through his closet, following the boy’s figure with his eyes. 
A minute passed, standing in comfortable silence. And as Y/n continued to stare at JJ, a playful grin pulled the corners of his lips.
“You just call me ‘amigo’?” He asked, tapping his fingers on the dresser.
JJ paused, turning to look at him over his shoulder.
“Yes, actually, I did.” He replied, grabbing a sweatshirt from the closet and tossing it to Y/n. Neither boy made a move to change, though, nothing else than Y/n pulling the old “North Carolina” sweater over his head and running a hand through his hair.
“And you’re giving your ‘amigo’ a sweatshirt? How sweet-“ he teased, JJ simply rolling his eyes as the incident merely a few minutes prior seemed to be left behind. JJ didn’t know why he gave Y/n that sweater, this was the first time he had done that. Perhaps it was something in the way Y/n:s eyes had been so red and wide before, he wanted to see comfort instead.
The blonde settled onto his bed, Y/n following close behind and kicking off his shoes. He laid down next to him, shuffling around as he falls into the pillows. 
“Better not cuddle me, Cameron.” JJ joked, although said in a flat tone it wasn’t hard for Y/n to know he didn’t mean it. He would make jokes like that quite often, actually- Y/n already knew the outcome.
“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He jokes right back, getting comfortable on his side. 
But then as the minutes go by, hands ticking away slowly on the clock, it was predictably JJ himself who began to inch closer and closer. 
Y/n peaked one eye open, the warmth radiating from him so close, as his breath fanned lightly across his shoulder. Happens everytime.
“What were you saying, Maybank?”
“Shut the fuck up and cuddle me.” 
Blunt, yes, but in no more than a split second Y/n found his legs entangled with those of the blonde, ducking his face into the crook of JJ’s neck as a strong sense of home overcame him. 
This happened often, the teasing jabs that would only lead to such small space between their bodies. Though, that is how they liked it. Not even the beating heat of the summer could stop it, the restrictions that kept them apart in public but pulled them so close together in private. 
Because in private, there was no one else but each other to keep them company. 
304 notes · View notes
bumblesimagines · 9 months
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“ you make me happy. really happy. “
“ you belong to me, with me, under me. consensually, of course. “
“ you make me happy. really happy. “
“ you belong to me, with me, under me. consensually, of course. “
friend clarified this was for jj maybank
pronouns for y/n: they/them, gender neutral
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A small hum emitted from your throat at the feeling of lips pressing over your face, slowly drawing you out of your slumber. A soft giggle left the perpetrator and they resumed the kiss attack, even going as far as nipping lightly until you shoved their face away.
"It's too early for this, J." You whined, cracking one eye open to confirm the time. 10 AM. Far too early for a Pogue to be awake, per John B's words.
"I can't help it." The blonde murmured against your skin, toned arms wrapped securely around you. He pressed one last kiss against your cheek and you finally opened your eyes, head turning to look at him. A cheeky grin greeted you.
"It's unnatural for you to be up at this hour." You yawned and tiredly rubbed your eye, face scrunching up slightly. You heard him giggle again and huffed softly, lips forming a pout that he eagerly kissed away. You hadn't expected the typically affectionate boy to become a stage one clinger once you got together with him. But there he was, legs tangled with yours and lips refusing to abandon your skin for more than a few mintues.
"I couldn't wait any longer to see your face. Just lookin' at you makes me happy. You make me happy. Really happy." He said, blue eyes softening and he puckered his lips again, this time planting a swift kiss on the side of your neck.
"And why's that?" You chuckled and raised a hand to push back his fluffy blonde locks. He leaned into your touch with a dorky smile on his face.
"Because you belong to me, with me, under me." He winked then paused briefly. "Consensually, of course."
"Of course." You nodded and laughed softly.
"Everything about you makes me happy." JJ rolled over to be ontop of you, going limp and burying his face into your neck. "Your laugh, your smile, your eyes, the fact you're a terrible cook-"
"Oh, look who's talking!" You gently smacked his arm. "You've burnt toast before, J!"
"That was on purpose."
"Uh huh."
334 notes · View notes
untilwedont · 1 year
Note
do rafe x malereader pls!!
Me coming back for my monthy post
even though I didn't post last month..
ooops
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x GN!Reader
Genre: Angsty
Warnings: Cheating. rafe practically on his knees, no happy ending for either ?? , not proof read
Summary: After rafe realizes you saw him cheating, he tries to make things right again.
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"No.." I thought to myself as I tried to process whether I was just in a bad dream or not. "No, no, no.. This can't be... he wouldn't.." My mind starting racing as I tried calming myself. There had to be some sort of explanation for this, right? My rafe wouldn't do this to me.. would he?
I didn't know what to make of it. I saw the love of my life slobbering his lips over someone else's.. I started to feel the tears slide out of my eyes as I just stood there, not knowing what to do. There was no rational explanation for this. I really wasn't in a bad dream, was I?
You felt your body jolt as you left your trance once Rafe noticed you watching. The panic in his eyes set in when he noticed who was watching him. You finally decided to leave, not wanting to hear what excuse he would come up with .
You couldn't be bothered. I mean, there was no rational explanation for cheating on someone, is there? You heard the sound of leaves crunching and footsteps running from behind you. You kept walking, even after he tried placing a hand on your shoulder, you couldn't dare face him.
'Hey, Y/N, Y/N, baby! Wait, wait, wait!" Rafe spoke, eager to stop you from leaving. He firmly placed a hand on you, forcing you to stop in your tracks and turn around, "Don't fucking touch me!" You yelled, smacking his hand away from your shoulder. You tried walking away again, but Rafe wouldn't let you. "Y/N, baby, can you just hear me out for a second?!" He cried out.
"Hear you out on what, Rafe? Huh? Rafe, I saw you kiss someone-" You cut yourself off, "No, not even kiss, but full on make-out with them! Rafe, I thought you loved me.." Your anger came out of you, but soon died down as your heart began to shrivel. Your tears became like a waterfall as they started coming out of your eyes.
"I do love you baby, I-" He was cut off, "No, rafe, you don't. You don't love me." Rafe gripped both your shoulders, "Listen Y/N, I know there's no explanation for what I've done, but please.. Please let me make things right. Give me another chance! I can't lose you, please baby! You know I'd do anything to make you happy."
Tears came out of Rafe's eyes. He was practically on his knees, begging for your forgiveness. "You wanna make me happy, Rafe? Then disappear from my life. I never want to you see again." You removed his hands from your shoulders and left him for good.
"No, Y/N, don't leave me!" You heard Rafe yell in the distance. You were never gonna see him again, and you'd make sure of it.
A/N: Yay im back with another story. I hope u guys enjoyed and sorry for being MIA for a month D: I'll try to get to more requests soon. Also, if you guys could, would u mind giving a slight description on how u want ur story to be when u request something? It just helps me out since I get bad writers blockage. Not required, but it'll help out a lot, thank you!
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marrziy · 3 months
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Perdi a conta do tanto de gente que me pede pra escrever um hot desse GOSTOSO e até hj eu não saí da sinopse mds alguém me ensina a não procrastinar pfv 😭
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infernalodie · 1 year
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I know your like taking a break and shit, and no rush and no expectations but I was wondering if you could do a Kiara X R fic.
Could be where r is JJ's sibling (male or female or gn) and like JJ's at John B's for the night and R is at home alone w their dad and being the abusive asshole he is, he beats R up(really bad) and R doesn't want to worry JJ so they goes to Kiara instead, they could be dating already or not. They climb through her window and she sees what happened and she is just panicked because she didn't know their dad was abusive to that extent. Anyway she patches them up and they talk about it and then they just lay down with their head on Kiara's stomach while she strokes their hair??
I hope your having a much needed break and enjoying it. I hope your well and there is no rush or need to do this but it is just an idea.
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭 || 𝐊𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚
"𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘚𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯' 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘖2"
Inspo: Brakence - introvert
Pairing: Kiara Carrera x Maybank!Male!reader
Summary: An introvert at heart and in the most chaotic times...
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Warnings: Talks of abuse and verbal abuse with the faintest bit of fluff. So overall angst.
Words: 1639
DNI IF YOU’RE SENSITIVE TO WARNINGS ABOVE!!!
Fine.
That’s the answer you gave everyone when they asked how you were doing. So small. So minuscule. So far from the truth.
Fine.
What else was there to say? What could you tell? Nothing was the answer. Truthfully, you wanted to keep it this way. You wanted people to leave you be once you gave them the answer they wanted. Save them from a conversation that may only aggravate them and make you feel like an idiot. Why offer that vulnerability?
Because for a time, you could give that to someone. Allow them into your heart and swim in the wonders of your desires and passions. But time passed, life changed like it did and you slowly felt your chest hollow out. Only able to push out a lie that people were too misguided to understand that it was a lie.
Fine.
Extracting that purity from yourself allowed you to live a life that may be a lie, but saved you from pity. A chance to fight on your own in a war that never seemed to end. A constant fight for survival in exchange for the faintest bits of happiness. As much as your love came straight from the source, your outlook on sociality was cupidity. But you fought that part of yourself just as long as you had been subjected to a fight for a breath. A fight for life.
A fight for love.
Maybe you were just a fool. Maybe you were wishing upon motes in the sky that were just too far out of reach–a star to change your worthless existence. Because John B was happy with what he had. Lived on his own, had an amazing girlfriend and hung out with you and the rest of the Pogues. JJ was your brother, sticking close to the ones he cared for. Pope was happy cleaning his father’s docks and being the smartest one in the room. And Kiara lived on Figure Eight and loved making you stumble over your words. But you were…
Fine.
That was it. Just, fine. Nothing special. Nothing extravagant to talk about and nothing worth admiring. You stuck out like a sore thumb. A mismatch within the group of delinquents. A glitch in the system some would say. And you weren’t sure if it was just because that was how life was or if this was who you were meant to be the entire time. But, sometimes, you did wonder what the end of your life would be just so you knew if this pain and suffering were even worth it in the end. Because, at the moment, you were puffing off of hope and gathering whatever strength you had to get out of bed in the morning.
“You’re a worthless little shit, you know that?”
One foot in front of the other.
“JJ was enough, but you? Your mother should’ve gotten rid of you before you came into the picture.”
A falter in your step. Cheek stinging and nose still running with a stream of blood.
“You’re a failure, Y/n! A nobody! A fucking loser!”
In the end, you knew what you needed. A father. Just a man to look up to. Someone to lean on and entrust your secrets to. A chance to learn what it took to understand for becoming a man.
But it’s fine.
There was a chance he was right. You were a nobody. Never had a girlfriend. Never accomplished anything with your life. So, maybe, just maybe, he was just stating the obvious. Maybe you were taking this all a little too harshly and he was just trying to knock some sense into you.
Approaching the all too familiar house on the edge of the coast, you made your way along the side of the structure. Finding the pipe and gripping on. Hands faltering and slipping from the blood that was stuck to your palms. Staring down at the red for a second. Then another. Another.
Blinking rapidly, you rubbed your hand against your pants before grabbing onto the pipe and began to climb. Body aching and screaming in mercy for you to stop–to give up and stop running from reality. Reaching the landing, you carefully leaned against the frame of the house, using it as a support until you reached the window. Just barely opened half an inch. The perfect sliver of room for you to climb inside.
Slowly sliding the window open and slipping inside. There was no sign of her, so, you took advantage of the chance to be alone. A shaky exhaling was released from your lips as you limped towards the bed. Pulling your bloody shirt from your body and climbing into the bed. Shivering as you pulled the blankets over your body.
Her scent was embedded in these sheets and pillows. The general smell of freshly burnt incents was all the more relaxing to your dissociated state. Able to be absent from your mind and body and just enjoy what very little bit of happiness found in this lonely hour.
Yet, that bit of time alone was expunged when the bathroom door opened with the shadow of a figure appearing on the wall you faced. Whipping your head around and able to find Kiara’s tired expression. But it took only a split second for it to morph into one of shock and then horror. The one thing you had not hoped to see tonight or in the weeks you spent recovering in a household that was a minefield.
“Y/n, what the fuck happened?” Kiara rushed around the bed, watching you move to the opposite of the bed. Concern swam in her eyes full of the purity that could be extracted from the entire concept of love.
Pushing out a hearty laugh, you raised your hands in reassurance. “Baby, I am fine,” you reassured. “Just ran into some junkies wanting some money. Beat the fuck out of me. Nothing more and nothing less.”
“Y/n, you and I both know that you could take a few junkies,” Kiara stated, closing the space between the two of you. Hands holding your face, flinching when you hissed in pain from the faintest pressure applied to the fresh wound. You were busted up pretty badly. Bottom lip split, your right eye the size of a golf ball, your cheek purple, and your stomach was black and purple in all kinds of spots. “What happened, babe?” You chewed on your bottom lip, unable to meet the girl’s warm gaze. Blood pressure already reaching its limit, furthering the beat of your heart being in her embrace.
But if you bit your tongue, forget the pain, maybe you could hold back the tears. Hollow out the O2 in the air and create a barrier from the truth that you couldn’t submit her to knowing. She didn’t need to deal with this. There was enough on her plate as it is. She didn’t need to deal with you.
“I’m fine.” Your response caused the girl to clench her jaw, shifting her weight from leg to leg. Unable to bite back the tears as she shook her head, looking up at you almost pleadingly. All she wanted was the truth. That was all you’d ever given her since the two of you met at John B’s. A fresh face in your mind and somewhere to commit your serotonin. “I- I just don’t have a great life back home, Kie. It’s nothing to write to someone-”
“Your dad did this?” The sheer impact of her tone sent red flags flying, lost to found in the endless plains of your mind. She stood at the center with fire being left with every step she took. It was too late to recover from your mistake as the girl took the tiniest step towards you, evaporating whatever little space the two of you had left. “Y/n, did he do this?”
Hearing her speak so…painfully, brought on your own set of emotions you managed to forget. Tears brimming in your eyes as you looked up at the girl. These emotions, these feelings, you’ve bottled them up for years and put on an act to save you from this. From the look of shock and sympathy from the people you loved. And telling someone you loved that your father abuses you wasn’t anything romantic. If anything, you were made to feel like a weakling for not standing up for yourself. For not getting help and putting your father in prison. But that left so many endless possibilities of what would happen in return if you did that.
Because all you needed was Kie. Her presence alone was able to give you reasoning for everything you did. Whatever scheme your father liked to scrape up and place you as the victim, she made the pain worth it. And in no way was that healthy, you understood that. But if you left, if you were made to find a new family, you weren’t sure what you would do with yourself. You needed her. She didn’t need you and didn’t need you in her life, but she welcomed you every time.
“I couldn’t go to JJ about this,” you whispered, tasting the salty tears on your tongue. “I need to be with you, Kie.”
Your words made the girl’s lips form into a large smile, face scrunching up as she sniffled and held back a sob. Only able to offer a nod as she pulled you to the bathroom where she patched you up to the best of her capabilities. Soon enough, you lay your head on her stomach, fast asleep from the feeling of Kiara’s hand brushing through your blonde strands. But she wasn’t able to shake the rage. The fury she was building up for your father.
Because it isn’t fine.
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ayowhatnah · 1 year
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The friendly pogue 😁
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M/n is the most friendliness out of the gang (plus he has a pet frog his name is pablo)
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JJ has a crush m/n since they were kids.
M/n woke up and was met with the site of his best friend paolo sitting on his chin pablo started to crock and gently slapped his padded foot hitting m/n face.
M/n then gently grabbed pablo and placed pablo on his shoulder and walked out of his bedroom and walked to the kitchen and made some cereal while pablo sat on m/n Shoulder.
Once at John b's place m/n walked through the doorway and sat on the couch moving pablo off his shoulder and placed him on his leg waiting for the others.
Once jj jumped out of the van he made his way to the house and into the lounge room hopping over the couch and sat next to m/n and pablo.
Next thing you know jj and m/n started to talk to each other and while talking to each other jj let something slip out that he had some feeling for m/n out but then jj started to apologize for it but the m/n slowly shuffled over a bit and grabbed jj's face and leaned in to kiss him after jj got over the shock jj kissed m/n back.
While jj and m/n were kissing pope john b shara and kiara stayed on outside giving the pair some privacy.
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stxr-slut · 10 days
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Idk why but my type is "men who you genuinely can't tell if their gay or straight."
Like it's getting out of hand, jj maybank, Pope heyward, finnick odair, SIRIUS BLACK???
Not to mention my ex, rip (he's not dead, I just wish he was). Like I literally thought that man was gay when I first met him.
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devilsjacket · 1 year
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their favourite hugs - rafe cameron, JJ maybank, kiara carrera, sarah cameron
male reader
warnings: none
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rafe cameron
At first he didn’t like hugs
He’d just stand awkwardly or wrap an arm around you for a split second before going back to what he was doing
After a while he warmed up to the way your larger arms wrapped around him, he always pushed his face into your chest and inhaled your cologne just for comfort
He also enjoyed the way you toyed with his hair when you did it too, he felt so safe which was something he didn’t feel often
He’d give your hugs a solid 8/10
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JJ maybank
JJ was always an affectionate person
He loved giving “bro hugs” and pats on the back, anything to give someone a bit of encouragement
So when you hugged him from behind after a long day and buried your face into the crook of his neck he couldn’t help but melt
He definitely loved those kinds of hugs, it was so loving he almost couldn’t handle it, JJ was a sucker for soft touches
He loved to push his back against your slightly muscular front and bask in the feeling, he was pretty sure he could feel your heartbeat increase as well
He’d rate your hugs a good 10/10
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kiara carrera
Kiara was never one to be super lovey dovey but she did love hugs
Especially when you’re the one resting your head on her chest/shoulder, tracing shapes on her hip as you both relax
She loved when you opened up to her during these moments and always used hugs as an excuse to run her fingers through your hair
But she did prefer cuddles over simple hugs however, it just felt more comfortable and sweet
Nonetheless she’d rate your hugs around a 9/10
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sarah cameron
Sarah liked simple hugs
She’d just wrap her arms around your neck and pull you closer to her, she wasn’t that big on hugs
She liked them don’t get me wrong but she didn’t find them as special as like a kiss or something
But she did like the way your arms wrapped around her waist tightly as if you didn’t wanna let go
If she had to she’d rate your hugs a 5/10
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made by @devilsjacket
Ik this may be kinda inaccurate but I haven’t finished obx yet and this is what came to mind when I thought about them hugging the reader :) thanks for all the support and for reading, have a good day/night <3
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