#now... on to the ultimate hat... the pope hat...

[imtwoburdsbitch]

MATCHING HAT!

Will she wear it... it's a work in progress XD

[thepinkpanther83]

Hihihiiii - ok, so I’m waiting (veryyyy impatiently) to find out if I’ve gotten my all-time ultimate dream job (all good vibes def appreciated ✨🙏🏼), and I was thinking, how would Eddie keep me distracted? Lift my spirits? Make sure I’m staying positive? (Obviouslyyyy he’s my biggest fan and knows I have it on lock.) 🖤

Biggest Fan

Story Request: “Supportive Boyfriend Eddie Munson Request”

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

💌 Author’s Note: Big thanks to the wonderful @goingxsteddie for this request and prompt, it was great getting back into writing fun one-shots again. And hey, good luck on that job, babe! If you’ve already nailed it, I hope you’re celebrating like Eddie at a guitar sale. If not… then clearly they’re tinfoil-hat-wearing, lizard-people-level idiots who wouldn’t know talent if it staged a pyrotechnic solo in their office. 😘 ~Pinkie 🍒

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

🎸🫦 Summary: Eddie Munson’s got one mission, pull you out of your obsessive email-checking spiral, and he’s bringing out the big guns, snacks, terrible movies, dramatic readings, and every shameless trick in his distraction arsenal. Turns out, Eddie’s “No Job Talk Hour” has a way of making the minutes, and all your worries, disappear. 😉

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

“Biggest Fan”

You’re pacing. Again. Back and forth across the same worn path between the couch and the window, a mug of coffee cooling in your hands. Every few laps, you stop, snatch your phone from the coffee table, and swipe down to refresh your inbox. Still nothing.

Eddie’s sprawled across the couch like he’s auditioning for Most Comfortable Human Alive, one leg kicked over the armrest, hair spilling everywhere. He squints at you, the way a suspicious cat watches a laser pointer.

“Sweetheart, if you keep pacing, you’re gonna burn a groove in the carpet,” he says, voice dripping with mock warning. “And then I’ll trip over it, break my ankle, and sue you for damages. It’ll be a whole thing.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch, just a little.

He tilts his head, tracking your steps. “Seriously, you’ve got the same pattern down to the millimeter. I could lay guitar tabs over it and play a song.”

Another swipe at your inbox. Still nothing. The quiet stretches.

Eddie hums like he’s deep in thought, then sits up enough to rest his elbows on his knees. “Babe, I know that face. You’re one refresh away from emailing them again just to ask if they’re sure they didn’t forget about you.”

Eddie lets your pacing go for another thirty seconds, because he’s apparently timing you now, before clapping his hands once, loud enough to make you pause mid-step.

“Okay, that’s it. New rule: ‘No Job Talk Hour’ starts… now.” He leans forward, eyes wide like he’s just declared a national emergency. “You’re officially banned from the Church of Inbox Refresh. I’m the Pope, I have spoken, sit your ass down.”

Before you can argue, he’s already up, herding you toward the couch with exaggerated shooing motions. “Go on. Sit. Plant. I’m gonna fix this.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Fix what?”

“Your tragic descent into full-blown applicant psychosis,” he says matter-of-factly, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets like he’s digging for treasure. There’s the sound of crinkling plastic, then a triumphant, “Aha!” He returns with an armful of snacks, half of which you didn’t even know were in the house, and dumps them onto the coffee table with a flourish.

“Behold, the distraction spread.” He gestures like a game show host, then plops back onto the couch beside you, ripping open a bag of pretzels.

“You’re silly.”

“I’m effective.” He smirks, reaching for the remote. “Now, for the pièce de résistance…” He scrolls through the VHS tapes stacked under the TV until he lands on a truly absurd-looking movie. “We’re going with Sorcerer Cop II: The Wizard Is Back.”

“That’s not even a real-”

“It is real, and it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” He jams the tape into the player, hits play, and then immediately launches into the first scene’s dialogue with an over-the-top Shakespearean accent.

You try not to laugh. You fail almost instantly.

“Oh, you think that’s good?” He deepens his voice to gravel and starts narrating the stage directions like he’s the trailer guy. “In a world… where magic meets misdemeanor law enforcement… only one man can keep the streets safe… and mildly enchanted.”

You cover your mouth, shaking your head, but your shoulders loosen just a bit.

He notices, his grin softening for a second before he barrels on. “And while we’re on the subject, let’s talk about the fact that you’re obviously going to get this job. I mean, they’d be idiots not to hire you. Like… full-on tinfoil-hat, lizard-people-level idiots. The kind who think Elvis is alive and running a diner in Missouri.”

You snort, trying to roll your eyes but failing.

“No, no, hear me out.” He holds up a finger like he’s about to present hard evidence. “You’re smart, you’re dedicated, you can string a sentence together without accidentally insulting someone, which is more than I can say for most people I know. You’ve got the drive, the talent, and the good hair. They’d have to be clinically insane to pass that up.”

“Good hair is a job requirement now?”

“Absolutely. It’s in the fine print. I saw it.” He pops a pretzel into his mouth, then leans back with a satisfied nod. “So, there. That’s settled. Job is yours. Now eat some pretzels and enjoy this dumpster fire of a movie with me.”

He watches you for a moment, the way your fingers finally unclench from around your phone, the way your shoulders drop just a fraction. His smirk softens into something warmer, something private.

"See? Told you I was effective," he murmurs, nudging your knee with his. The movie plays on, the absurdity of it all, the terrible special effects, the overdramatic acting, but Eddie's not really watching anymore. His gaze keeps flicking back to you, studying the way the dim light from the TV catches in your hair, the way your lips quirk at the particularly ridiculous parts.

He shifts closer, just enough that his arm brushes against yours, and when he speaks again, his voice is lower, rougher. "You know, if this whole job thing doesn't work out, which it will, obviously… but if it doesn't, I could always use a partner in crime. You'd make a hell of a getaway driver."

The way he says it, the way his fingers trail absently along your wrist, sends a shiver down your spine.

The movie drones on in the background, but Eddie's attention is laser-focused on you. He reaches over, plucks another pretzel from the pile, and holds it up between you like some kind of sacred offering.

"Open up," he commands, voice low and teasing. There's a challenge in his eyes, a dare.

You hesitate, just for a second, before parting your lips. He grins, slow and wicked, and places the pretzel on your tongue with exaggerated care. His fingers linger just a heartbeat too long, brushing against your lower lip.

"See? Distracted," he murmurs, leaning in so close you can smell the salt on his breath, the faintest hint of coffee. "I have a whole plan."

The movie's forgotten now, the snacks abandoned. All you can think about is the way his thumb traces the curve of your jaw, the way his eyes darken when you swallow.

He's insufferable, but you love it.

And Eddie knows you love it, that’s the problem. That smug little curl at the corner of his mouth is pure victory, the kind of look that says I win, even though you were never playing a game.

Except… maybe you were.

His thumb makes another slow pass over your jaw before he lets his hand drop, his knuckles brushing over yours. The smirk fades, not in a kill the mood way, but like something softer’s pushing its way through. He leans back just far enough to really look at you, eyes narrowing a little, not with teasing now, but with something more thoughtful.

“You’ve been running yourself ragged over this,” he says quietly, nodding toward your abandoned phone. “And I get it. It’s a big deal. But you…” His voice hitches for the smallest moment, like he’s trying to find the right words. “You forget how much you’ve already done to even get here.”

Before you can deflect with some self-deprecating joke, he’s already moving, shifting until he’s sitting cross-legged in front of you on the couch. He takes your hands in his, thumbs pressing into your palms with that rough warmth you’ve learned to lean into.

“Look at me.”

You do, because his tone leaves no room for argument. The flicker from the TV catches in his eyes, deepening the brown, sharpening the sincerity there.

“I’ve watched you put in the hours. The late nights, the early mornings, the times you’ve turned down fun stuff, hell, turned down me to get your work perfect. I’ve seen you take every roadblock, every ‘no,’ and turn it into a ‘fine, watch me.’” His mouth pulls into a half-smile, but there’s no punchline behind it. Just pride.

“You deserve this. Not because you got lucky, not because someone took pity on you. You earned it. Every damn inch of it.”

You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around his without thinking.

“And even if they’re too blind or too stupid to see it, which they would be, because I’ve already established they’d have to be on some full-tilt conspiracy-theory nonsense to pass on you… it doesn’t change the fact that you’re good. The best, actually. I believe that. I believe in you.”

He says it like a vow, and it lands deep, somewhere past your ribs where the knot of anxiety’s been living for days. It melts, just a little.

“Eddie…” Your voice comes out softer than you expect.

His thumbs sweep over your knuckles again, slow, steady. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, a tiny smile tugging at your lips despite the heat building behind your eyes. “You’re… impossible.”

“Nah.” He grins, warm and easy now. “I’m just your biggest fan.”

His grin softens into something tender as he watches the way your eyes glisten under the flickering TV light. He doesn't call attention to it, doesn't tease you about it, doesn't push, just squeezes your hands gently before bringing one up to his lips, pressing a rough kiss to your knuckles.

The movie's forgotten now, the sound of terrible dialogue and dramatic music fading into background noise. Eddie shifts closer, knees bumping against yours as he leans in, resting his forehead against yours.

"You're gonna get this job," he says quietly, certainty lacing every word. "And when you do, I'm gonna celebrate the hell out of you. Loudly. Obnoxiously. Probably embarrass you in front of your new coworkers."

You huff a laugh, and he grins, nudging your nose with his.

"But right now?" His voice drops lower, rougher. "Right now, I just want you to relax. Let me take care of you for once, yeah?"

His fingers trail up your arms, slow and deliberate, before settling at the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing circles into the tense muscle there.

"Close your eyes," he murmurs. "Breathe. I've got you."

You do. Not because you’re great at following instructions, but because his voice leaves you no choice. You feel him watching you, as your shoulders sink a fraction lower, as the tension in your jaw eases just a bit.

“That’s better,” he says, almost to himself.

His thumb keeps up that slow, steady movement against your neck, and you expect him to stay there, content to just hold you like this until you drift off. But then his other hand slides down, a warm weight over your thigh. It rests there at first, innocent enough… except this is Eddie Munson, and nothing he does ever stays innocent for long.

“You’re still thinking,” he says, voice a shade rougher now. “I can feel it. Brain’s still going a hundred miles an hour.”

“I can’t just-”

“Shh.” His fingers squeeze your thigh, and that’s when you open your eyes to find him grinning at you, slow, wicked, the kind of grin that’s gotten you into trouble more than once. “Lucky for you, I have a foolproof method for shutting down overthinking.”

“Oh yeah?” you manage, though your voice has already gone a little breathless.

“Mm-hm.” He leans in, brushing a kiss against the corner of your mouth. “Starts with you lying back…” Another kiss, this time to your jaw. “…and letting me work.”

Before you can protest… or pretend to anyway, he’s coaxing you down against the couch cushions, moving over you without a single break in eye contact. He kisses you then, slow but intently, like he’s already halfway into proving his point. His hand on your thigh shifts higher, thumb stroking along the inside until your breath catches.

“There she is,” he murmurs against your lips. “Already better.”

You can feel the heat of him everywhere, his hair brushing your cheek, the weight of his palm on your skin, the solid press of his body pinning you just enough to make your pulse race. He trails his mouth along your throat, leaving a line of open-mouthed kisses that have your hands fisting in his shirt.

“This,” he says between kisses, “is a much better use of your time than refreshing your inbox.”

By the time he’s settled between your knees, you’re not sure you even remember what an inbox is.

His hands slide up your thighs with deliberate slowness, calloused fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake as they push under the hem of your shirt. The rough pads of his thumbs trace teasing circles on your hipbones while his mouth works at that sensitive spot just below your ear, the one that always makes you shiver.

"Still thinking about that email?" he murmurs against your skin, voice dripping with amusement as he nips lightly at your earlobe.

You gasp when his teeth graze your pulse point, arching into him instinctively. "W-what email?"

Eddie chuckles smugly, the vibration sending another wave of heat straight between your legs. "That's what I thought." His hands slide higher, pushing your shirt up to expose your stomach as he dips his head to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat.

The movie's still playing in the background, something about a wizard cop and a magical crime spree, but all you can focus on is Eddie's weight pressing you into the couch, the way his rings feel cool against your overheated skin, the sinful promise in every slow roll of his hips against yours.

One of his hands slips under your back to unhook your bra with practiced ease while the other cups your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple through the fabric. You whimper, fingers twisting in his hair as he grins against your collarbone.

"Focus only on me," he breathes, dragging his teeth over the swell of your breast before taking the hardened peak into his mouth through your shirt. The damp heat of his tongue has you bucking against him, desperate for friction.

Eddie pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes blown wide with desire. "You're gonna forget all about that job," he promises in a rough whisper, fingers already working at the button of your jeans. "Even if I have to fuck the stress out of you all night."

The crude words shouldn't send another rush of wetness between your thighs, but they do. Eddie's smirk tells you he knows exactly what he's doing to you as he finally, finally slips his hand into your panties.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans when he finds you soaked. "You this worked up just for me?"

You can only nod, hips jerking when he drags two fingers through your folds before circling your clit with agonizing slowness.

You let out a soft, frustrated sound, but Eddie only grins, eyes locked on yours like he’s daring you to complain. His fingers keep that maddening rhythm for a few more moments, circling, teasing, until your breathing turns ragged.

Then, without warning, he slips his hand away entirely.

Your whimper is met with a low chuckle as he pushes himself up just enough to get both hands on your jeans. “These are in my way,” he says simply, hooking his fingers into the waistband and tugging them down over your hips.

You lift for him without thinking about it, feeling the cool air hit your skin as denim gives way to the softer barrier of your panties. Eddie’s gaze drops there, lingering in a way that makes your cheeks burn. “And these,” he adds, voice lower now, almost reverent. He peels them down slowly, deliberately, dragging the fabric over every inch of your thighs until they’re gone, discarded somewhere near the couch.

He takes a moment just to look at you. Not in a detached, clinical way, but like he’s memorizing this exact sight for the rest of his life. His hands settle on your knees, thumbs brushing lazy circles as he eases your legs apart.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

When he lowers himself between your thighs again, it’s with a sort of unhurried confidence, like he’s savoring the fact that you’re laid out for him and no one else. His palms skim up the insides of your legs, slow and warm, until they frame your hips.

“Now…” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours, that smug smirk curling again, “…let’s see if I can make you forget your own name.”

His fingers return to you, this time without the barrier of fabric, sliding through your slick folds with a smooth, practiced motion. The sensation makes your breath catch instantly, and when his thumb finds your clit again, it’s firmer, more deliberate, no more teasing circles, but steady pressure that has your hips canting toward him.

Eddie watches your reaction like it’s the best show he’s ever seen, leaning in to kiss the inside of your thigh, just high enough that you feel the heat of his breath where you want him most.

“You’re already trembling,” he teases softly. “We’re just getting started.”

His breath ghosts over your slick folds before he finally drags his tongue through you in one long, slow stroke. The sound you make is embarrassingly loud, but Eddie just groans against you, gripping your thighs tighter as he does it again, and again.

His tongue is relentless, broad and wet and perfect as it laps at your entrance before swirling around your clit with just the right pressure. You fist your hands in his hair, tugging, but he doesn’t speed up, doesn’t give in. He takes his time, savoring you like you’re the last fucking meal he’ll ever have.

Then his fingers join in, two of them pressing inside you in one smooth motion, curling just right.

“Oh fuck-” Your back arches off the couch, thighs trembling around his head.

Eddie hums against you, the vibration making your toes curl. His fingers pump steadily, his thumb brushing your clit in time with each thrust, and his tongue… god, his tongue, licks into you.

“Eddie-” You choke on his name, your hips rocking against his mouth, chasing the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your gut.

He pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips glistening, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “Yeah, sweetheart?” His voice is rough with want. “What do you need?”

As if he doesn’t already know.

You whimper, tugging at his hair again. “More.”

His grin is filthy. “More what, baby?”

“More… everything-”

Eddie chuckles, low and wicked, before diving back in. His fingers curl harder, his tongue flicks faster, and within seconds, you’re coming apart under him, his name a broken moan on your lips as pleasure crashes through you in waves.

He doesn’t stop until you’re squirming from oversensitivity, gasping as he presses one last, lingering kiss to your inner thigh before sitting back on his heels.

“Still thinking about that job?” he rasps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You can only manage a weak, breathless laugh while Eddie grins.

He leans back down, planting lazy kisses along the inside of your thigh, soft, slow ones that make you twitch from the lingering sensitivity, before finally settling his chin right there on your leg like he intends to stay for the rest of the day.

“Feel better?” he asks, voice low and smug, lips curling at the corner. “You should, ‘cause that’s the real dream job, sweetheart, mine.”

You snort, swatting at his messy hair, but he catches your wrist and presses a kiss into your palm before crawling up to join you on the couch. His weight sinks in beside you, arm looping around your waist.

Before you can even think about reaching for your phone, Eddie’s eyes narrow. “Ah-ah,” he warns, wagging a finger. “You’re not checking that thing until the top of the hour.”

Your brows lift. “And if I do?”

“Then,” he says, dragging you flush against him and tucking your head under his chin, “I’ll just have to confiscate it. Which means sticking it in my back pocket… which, by the way, is located somewhere you’d have to do some very thorough searching to get to.” His grin is positively wolfish.

You roll your eyes but settle against him anyway, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat under your cheek. His hand rubs lazy circles on your hip, warm and grounding. Every so often you feel his lips press into your hair, a wordless little reassurance that he’s not going anywhere.

The minutes pass in a haze of shared heat and quiet breaths. You find your gaze drifting toward the coffee table, where your phone sits, screen dark and tantalizing, but the second your eyes flick in that direction, Eddie catches you.

“Oh no you don’t,” he says, tilting your chin up toward him. And then he’s kissing you, deep and slow, stealing your focus until the phone is the furthest thing from your mind.

By the third time it happens, you’re not sure if you’re trying to sneak glances at the phone or if you just like giving him an excuse to kiss you again.

His fingers tighten just slightly on your chin when he pulls back from the third kiss, his dark eyes searching yours with amused suspicion. "You're doing this on purpose now," he accuses, with that familiar, smug grin.

You don’t deny it.

Eddie exhales a laugh through his nose, shaking his head before leaning in again, this time letting his lips brush yours in a whisper of a touch. "Greedy," he murmurs, the word warm against your mouth.

You hum in agreement, tilting your head to chase his lips, but he pulls back just enough to keep you from catching them.

"Oh no, sweetheart," he tuts, grinning when you pout. "You don’t get to play me and check your emails. That’s cheating."

His hand slides from your chin down to your waist, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt to trace idle patterns on your skin. "Besides," he adds, voice dropping into something lower, rougher, "if you keep looking at me like that, we’re gonna have a whole new distraction on our hands."

The way he says it, like it’s a threat and a promise all at once, sends a fresh wave of heat straight between your legs.

You bite your lip, considering.

Eddie’s grin widens. "You’re thinking about it."

And then, because he’s Eddie, because he’s always been the kind of man who can’t resist pushing his luck, he adds, "Now be a good girl and give me my turn."

Your breath catches.

His fingers dig into your hip, just enough to make you shiver.

Your phone is forgotten again.

Eddie leans back just enough to look at you, his grin all wicked invitation, the kind that makes your pulse trip over itself. He drags his thumb slowly across your lower lip, watching the way it catches and pulls before letting it go.

“Yeah…” he murmurs, like he’s answering some unspoken question. “That’s the look.”

His other hand slides further along your thigh, fingers curling possessively as he shifts, knees spreading just a little wider. You can feel the change in the air, thicker, charged, and you know exactly where this is going.

Eddie tilts his head, gaze locked on yours, and the smugness in his smile deepens into something hungrier. “C’mere,” he says, low and deliberate, like he’s not asking.

And somehow, without even thinking about it, you’re already moving closer.

By the time you’re on your knees between his legs, your phone is the last thing on your mind.

Who loves Eddie Munson, show of hands! 😂 Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! @justalotoffanfiction, @yorshie, @jackalope-in-a-storm, @v1per1ne, @daveythorntonslocker, @cokepowder55, @kelsiegrin, @ash-stardust, @meankenna, @kellsck, @chronicles-of-koystee, @micheledawn1975, @fckyeahlames, @cantstandya2000, @totallysocially, @exasperatedsighohmy, @boggerslide, @sheneedsrocknroll92, @n3lly-h3artz, @comeonatmebruh, @goingxsteddie, @msmimiandrew, @cpnsteverogers, @quinnophile, @exploding-bonbon, @hiscrimsonangel

Masterlist

[boomgun]

For the record, this is more of a literary/media critique and is not intended to be character hate. Genuinely.

So, I have one problem with Rhea's redemption arc, and it is that Rhea does not do anything. No, I do not mean that in a mean spirited 'she didn't deserve it,' I mean that in a 'what the fuck is this arc the writers gave her.' Rhea has an epiphany that the goddess she spent centuries to resurrect will not return, gives Byleth the pope hat, says 'I will defend the students of Garreg Mach as if they were my own,' goes beast mode in a cutscene, and then she gets captured and is absent from the story until we save her. Then, five years later, Rhea gives us some lore drops, nobly puts herself on the line of fire again in Shambala and then she presumably dies of her wounds, maybe, if Byleth does not romance her in Silver Snow. Like, anyone else notice that ultimately Rhea's penance boils down to "surrender your station to the Player Character Who Can Do No Wrong, tank magic spells/nuclear missiles in a couple wicked cutscenes, and then die unless the self-insert wants to bang you." I kind of dislike how much this redemption circles around making Byleth center stage, instead of, you know, being about Rhea. I see the arc, and the intentions of it! Rhea goes from seeing Byleth as an empty vessel for the goddess to a person who is a worthy heir of the goddess, she puts her life on the line for humanity after millenia of isolation and anger and loss. It is just a shame how she only has supports with Byleth, and her story beats are limited by the decision to throw her into Enbarr castle until you rescue her late in the story, like Edelgard is Bowser and Rhea is Princess Peach. I dislike how much Rhea's agency seems to be limited in the story, and given that a core part of this redemption is Rhea yielding her office without a fight, it feels like the lack of agency is part of the point! A redemption rooted around the surrendering of agency is ridiculous, taking an active position to not take an active position anymore unless it is time for a cool cutscene is really lame! The music of the final mission for Silver Snow was cool and thematic, and I do love tragedies, so I will give it that much, but Rhea's redemption just feels like she's being made into a loyal servant of the player character and that just sours me on the whole thing. I get that Rhea fucked up (I'm an Edelgard stan, of course I get it), I get the idea that some would think it noble to step down with grace, but surely there is more to be done than just hopping off the throne and giving way to the whims of the main character. Give her a new goal to make amends by, and not one that just boils down to Become A Supporting Character For The MC Now. I get that some folks just want this flying dinosaur (affectionate, dinosaurs are cool) who had to deal with an ocean of problems to have a happy ending, but it is literally contigent on the player character wanting to bang her! That fucking sucks, go to hell (to the writing, not the people that enjoy happy endings).

Again, I am not saying Rhea is poorly written or detestable, I do not think I would care this much if the writing was bad or repulsive. They put a lost of history and pathos and even agency into Rhea (most of the backstory is stuff Rhea did, a lot of the setting is just Rhea's shadow and Rhea's ruins and Rhea's victories and defeats) until we cross the Holy Tomb Threshold and she literally just hands her narrative importance over to Byleth and gets thrown into the box for five years. It just leaves me feeling unsatisfied, not angry or even disappointed, but just wishing that this story had a bit more meat on it to bite into.

I am hungry for more, and nothing else.

[cyantt-does-stuff]

Hello! My name is Antt, or Cy, whichever. Welcome to my blog! I post random shit at random times, but my main things are drawing and editing. My schedule and art style are never constant, but I try! Here are a few things to get us started:

I am a asexual lesbian. Pronouns she/her, cis. I am 20. I don't think I'll ever really post anything 18+, but most of the fandoms I'm in are 18+/have adult material. My favorite color is blue (any variant), and my favorite season is winter!

My DNI consists of the bare minimum. If you're decent, you know what they are.

Time for fandoms! Er... actually... if I listed every piece of media I consume, I would probably have to make a follow-up post. So I'll just list the ones I'm focused on currently (may edit this when my interests change).

Project Hail Mary

Iron Lung

Eddsworld

Haunted Hotel

Undertale/Deltarune

Supernatural

Liminal horror/The Backrooms

Resident Evil

Witch Hat Atelier

IT (2017/2019)

Bungou Stray Dogs

Ron Kamonohashi: Deranged Detective

Trigun

Genshin Impact

Jujutsu Kaisen

Star Trek (AOS, Lower Decks)

Splatoon

Doctor Who

Homestuck (unfortunately)

Sanders Sides

Little Nightmares

Red Dead Redemption 2

Detroit: Become Human

Final Destination

Marvel/MCU

House M.D.

Sherlock BBC

Star Kid

Team Fortress 2

Murder Drones

Sonic the Hedgehog

Good Omens (Neil Gaiman sucks)

Wednesday

The Boys

Popee the Performer

ENA

The Edge of Sleep

Hellsing Ultimate

DSMP (I don't support most of the CCs)

Night In The Woods

Lego Monkie Kid

Gravity Falls

Voltron Legendary Defender

The Stanley Parable

Friday Night Funkin'

Vocaloid

Class Of 09'

Rick and Morty

Creepypasta

SMG4/Glitch

Overwatch

Corpse Party

The Mandela Catalogue

Teen Wolf

The Umbrella Academy

Noragami

Kill La Kill

The Legend of Zelda (in general)

Fairy Tail

Chainsaw Man

Kekkai Sensen/Blood Blockade Battlefront

My Hero Academia

Inuyasha

I enjoy shipping because I am a hopeless romantic and I want what those bitches have.

That should do it for now! I hope you enjoy my content.

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Addicted to You

Part III: Renegade

Summary/Author's Notes: Frankie (and the rest of the boys) goes and gets his girl back. I won't say anything else because I know y'all have been waiting.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pope's sister!Reader Word Count: 4.5k Warnings/Rating: R/18+ once again STRONG kidnapping elements, restraint, violence, death, murder, blood, language, PTSD, hurt/comfort

Gif by @hvitserkk

MASTERLIST

Part I Part II

Apparently this hell hole of a jungle insisted on being true to its word. Ever since they had left the bar it had been pouring down rain. Large torrents of water cascaded from the dark sky like the dump bucket at the local water park crashing down on a bunch of screaming kids. Unsurprisingly, Frankie had not slept at all. He tossed and turned on his cot in their hostel, spending the majority of the night staring at the ceiling, listening to Benny snore, and thinking about you.

A few times he gave up his restless dance and got up to crack the window and light a cigarette. Pope was already up as well, unable to rest for the same reasons Frankie couldn't, and he held out a smoke and a lighter to him in silence.

"Thanks," Frankie said, quietly and Pope nodded. The two of them didn't speak. What was there to say? He offered his presence and a cigarette as an apology and Frankie took it. That's just how they had always operated, with an unspoken language of knowing that even if they were pissed at each other, there was no one else they would rather have watching their six.

The watch on Pope's wrist beeped quietly and he pressed the button, nodding to Frankie that it was time to head out. Frankie returned the gesture, taking another long drag of his smoke as Pope started to wake the others. He stared up at the dark sky and wished there was some way to tell you that he was coming for you. Whatever was happening, whatever state you were in, just hold out a little longer.

The thickness of the canopy of leaves on Lorea's property helped with the rain. The large drops pat on the trees with soft thuds as the men took up their positions from yesterday and started in towards the mansion. Only this time, each of them was geared up, locked and loaded. Frankie was careful of his steps not because of noise this time, but because of the mud. The sheer amount of water that the forest floor had received overnight had flooded every tiny creek bed, and eroded enough earth that even the smallest hill was just an avalanche of silt. His shirt was already stuck to his body, protected only by his Kevlar and the pack slung over his back.

Pope turned his hat around backwards as he took up his sniping position on the hill and looked through his scope. Frankie moved quietly through the trees towards the gate and Will flanked him, each lowering their guns to start snipping the chain link fence with their bolt cutters. Benny mirrored Pope's sniper stance from the East side and kept a careful eye poised on the two men below working on the gate.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing they're so devout," Benny said flatly through the com piece. "My dad used to say when it's raining, that means god didn't need us in church today."

Will chuckled and shook his head, finishing up clipping the fence and putting the bolt cutters back in his backpack. "Yeah, he also said you go to heaven for the climate, and hell for the company."

"Actually I think Mark twain said that, shithead." His brother retorted as he adjusted his scope and checked on Frankie's progress with the fence.

"Alright, keep the radio clear. Stay awake and look alive." Tom's voice came through everyone's ears, his obviously irritated tone making Frankie roll his eyes. "How many is that, getting in, Fish? Count it."

Frankie looked up as he finished cutting and watched the family pile in the car adorned in their Sunday best and umbrellas. "Seven getting in the van," he answered Tom.

"Anybody see Lorea?" Pope asked.

"Negative. Never saw him come out." Will walked carefully back to his spot perpendicular to the road that led out of the fortress. He ducked behind a tree as the cars drove passed him down the gravel road. "Wife and two kids are with a single driver--the family has left the building. We're clear."

They all waited in silence as the family vans disappeared and another unmarked, black car rounded the corner in their place. Pope's informant had been true to her word and was here to deliver the day's round of Lorea's money like she didn't know that he was about to be robbed blind. The gates opened slowly and she drove right through. She had a beat up four door hitched to the van so she could drive away and leave them the extra van, just like Pope had asked.

"Damn Pope, your girlfriend is a keeper. She got us that second van." Benny said, looking through his scope and adjusting the settings. "Punctual, smart, and brave as shit--just how you like 'em."

Pope ignored his quip about the informant and asked, "Has anyone seen any sign of (Y/N)?"

"Negative." Frankie said flatly, squeezing the com button clipped to the inside of his shirt. His eyes diligently searched each window of the upper floor, desperate for even the smallest sign that you were inside and alive. But he saw nothing.

"Informant is in," Benny cut through the silence. "Making the handoff now."

"Here we go," Tom raised up off of his knees and started to move. "Ben, you're first hit. With this rain the guards are gonna be inside. Watch your angles--silence is key."

"Roger."

Will and Frankie started walking toward the back of the mansion, matching each other's strides as they let Pope take point in front of them through the tall grasses. Each man had their semi-automatic rifle level with their eyes, balanced against their chest as they strained their ears and vision to see anything in this fucking rain. Frankie ducked his head under the family's clothes line as they entered the backyard and waited for Pope to give them a hand signal.

To an outsider, this would have looked like any normal family's patio. A children's sized soccer goal and a few balls were off to the side, a grill and a white iron table and chairs sat waiting for summer time barbeques. And only a prick like Lorea would subject his family to his dealings out here in the middle of nowhere. Frankie hoped with everything he had that the man in question was inside, because he couldn't wait to get his hands on him.

"Steady." Pope said over the com and motioned that he was going in the side patio door, and that the other two should go in through the double doors.

"Alright," Will nodded, looking at Frankie and motioning him to take the lead. "We're going in."

The house was dark. Will checked the windows but it didn't offer much insight before they crossed the threshold. Most of the glass had been covered with newspaper, bleached from the sun and offering little to help with what he could only imagine was Lorea's paranoia. A lot of the furniture was covered in sheets and protective cloth like they had just moved in or were getting ready to move out--either way, it wasn't very homey.

Pope nodded as he crossed paths with the two of them from the side door, taking note of the guard watching soccer in the living room at such a volume that suggested he was absolutely hard of hearing. But that sure made sneaking passed him easier.

Will and Frankie headed to the kitchen. The fridge door was open and a faceless man was rifling through the contents. Frankie let Will take point, keeping his gun raised as the blond slung his over his shoulder and waited for the guard to shut the fridge. As soon as he did, he was on him with a swift punch to the face. Will twisted the man around and wrapped his bicep around his neck, putting him in a sleeper hold, squeezing tighter as the man struggled, ultimately falling unconscious and sliding to the floor.

Frankie white knuckled his gun as he saw that it was the smaller guard from the day before--the one who had called you merchandise. He hesitated, but shook it off as Will tossed him a zip tie and they secured the man's wrists and ankles before stowing him on the other side of the counter.

"Front gate secured," Benny said over the com from outside the house.

"One guard secured in the kitchen," Frankie answered as they crossed back into the foyer.

"Ben come to the house," Tom ordered from his place on the rooftop balcony

"Copy that."

Will followed Frankie into the next room as they looked across the foyer at Pope. The guard who had previously been watching his ridiculously loud television was nowhere to be seen. Benny's shadow appeared in front of the frosted glass of the French double doors and Pope held up a fist that he hoped he would be able to see.

"I'm at the front door."

"Hold Benny, hold," Pope responded, keeping his fist raised.

"Threat in the TV room is gone," Frankie said, keeping his voice calm and factual, letting Benny know the reason he was continuing to stand in the rain.

All three men looked up as the missing guard came down the staircase. Frankie's eyes narrowed as he realized who the guard in question was. He remembered the clear image of his disgusting hands over your mouth, hurting you, restraining you, and ultimately striking you--bitch. muzzle. cunt. His heart hammered in his chest and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears and he did the only thing he could think of. With an echo through the high ceiling entryway, he squeezed the trigger and fired, hitting the bald guard in the kneecap and sending him to the ground with a thud and a yell.

"What's going on in there??" Benny said over the com and Pope lowered his fist.

"All clear Benny. Eyes out for Lorea--"

"Well, he sure as fuck heard us now!" Will growled, dropping to his knee and pulling the zip ties and electrical tape from his pack. He spared a glare at Frankie as he got to work but Frankie felt no remorse. If he didn't need to find you, he would have shot the bastard a second time.

Will wrapped the black tape around the guys mouth to muffle his painful screams as Frankie pulled the zip tie tightly around his ankles--perhaps a little tighter than was necessary. The three of them looked up as Benny came in the front door and Pope pointed to the open utility closet at the left of the stairs.

"Set the charges for the security room. I want those cameras offline now! It's just Lorea and I do not want him to know our positions." Pope took a couple of stairs up and raised his rifle back to balance on his shoulder as he looked around the corner.

"What was the fuck was that? Who shot first?" Tom hissed through the com and they looked at Frankie.

"We had to shoot the third guard in the leg." Ben answered as he started pulling wires out of the cameras and lining the inside with a small amount of explosive, wetting his fingers with his tongue. "Taking him to the kitchen as we speak." He looked pointedly at Will and Frankie. It made Frankie realize that, unlike Tom, none of them would blame him for the shot, but they had to stay focused and keep moving.

They picked up the still grunting and thrashing guard and carried him into the other room and Benny turned his head and said with a grin, "Fire in the hole."

The camera system fuse sparked and popped like a line of firecrackers and all at once every camera in the compound went dark.

The rest of them let Frankie and Pope take the lead as they walked up the stairs. Both men shoulder to shoulder as they aimed down the sight of their guns and looked in each open door that led to a room, hoping that you would be there. With each empty room Frankie's heart beat harder. He found it more difficult to breathe every time he swept the area and you weren't there. Sweat dripped off his brow, both from the humidity in the house and the fear of the possibility that you were no longer in the house at all.

The two of them came to the last closed doors in the hallway and they looked at each other.

"You take right, I'll take left?" Pope offered and Frankie nodded wordlessly.

"I got your six," Will said behind them both as Tom and Benny moved to take the double doors that led to Lorea's office.

Frankie tried to calm his hands as he took one off of his gun to open the door. The room was dark and cluttered, a nice set of bay windows being the only light as rain pounded against the glass. Frankie swept the room slowly, using the barrel of his rifle as a guide for his eyes as they adjusted to the low light. He lowered his gun slowly as he laid eyes on you, for even in shadows he knew it had to be you.

"(Y/n).." he breathed out, dropping his rifle and backpack to the floor with a thud. Nothing in the house mattered anymore, not Lorea, not the Narcos money--even if Will wasn't watching his back, he would have dropped everything he was carrying to get to you faster.

You had heard footsteps and a gunshot long before Frankie hit the door. Not that any of the warning sounds mattered because you were basically a sitting duck, and you had been for almost twenty-four hours. Time was irrelevant though as the blindfold around your eyes made everything dark at all hours of the day. As the footsteps got closer you clenched your fists and pulled against the zip ties that held you against the straight back chair. A whimper fell around the gag that was biting into your cheeks and as a hand touched each of your arms, you let out a muffled scream.

The sound alone felt like someone was ripping Frankie's heart out with his own hunting knife. He released you like you had burned him and quickly went for your blindfold first so you could see it was him, not Lorea, not his thugs...him.

"(Y/n)! Baby, stop--it's me, it's me!" He raised his voice to be heard over your fear and you froze.

Blinking slowly, your eyes adjusted to the light as he came into focus in front of you. Frankie. Your Frankie. Frankie Morales was squatting in front of you, looking up at your face with a mixture of elation and worry.

His large but gentle hands reached up and, careful of your hair, slipped the cloth gag out of your mouth and let it drop to the floor.

"Cat?" You rasped weakly, the one word catching in your throat like a stone. Your mouth hurt and felt like it was full of paste, dry and clammy at the same time.

"Yeah," he laughed softly in relief as if hearing your voice made you more real. "Hold on, doll." He said, pulling his knife out of the sheath on his boot and cutting through the restraints on your ankles before moving up to each wrist. The plastic snapped easily under the blade and your body felt like it's entire existence gave a sigh as the blood flow resumed to those areas.

Before you could stop yourself, you crumbled off of the chair and against his chest, but he was expecting it. He knew you better than anyone and like always, it was as if he could read your thoughts. Your sobs came easier than you would have liked, but they were impossible to fight.

Frankie's arms wrapped around your body like they had a thousand times before. One hand went to your hair and he looked over his shoulder to Will, "Get Pope." His words were as quiet as he could keep them while still allowing the other man to hear him over your tears.

"Of course," Will nodded, leaving the room at a jog.

"Santi's here?" You managed to choke out and you felt him nod.

"You bet," he tightened his grip on you, clearing the emotion out of his own throat. "Who do you think called in the calvary?"

The fact that your brother had been the one to track you down was not surprising in the slightest. You had hoped against all odds that the moment you didn't show up to meet him in the city, he would have allowed his paranoia to go into full force. But you had no idea that it meant he would rally a rescue posse. It made sense--there was no way he would be able to take the mansion solo, but knowing that all of his guys, the guys that you considered part of the Garcia family, had dropped everything to help him find you made your chest tight. The tears started again and you gripped Frankie's Kevlar vest, too tired to fight them.

"Hey," he whispered, pulling you back against him. "I got you. You're safe now--we're gonna get out of here."

You nodded and looked back up at him. Two years. Two years and not a damn thing had changed about the man in front of you. He still wore a ball cap that you were certain you had seen before, his thick, dark hair curled out from under it and you knew if the hat came off it would be sticking out in every direction. Your fingers itched to touch it, to touch him, any part of him that wasn't the tactical gear that covered the outside of his body. The scruff at the sides of his jaw had just a touch of gray, now that was new, but then again neither of you were kids anymore. You couldn't stop yourself as you touched the edge of his beard with the tips of your fingers. He was here. He was real. And despite the distance and the time between your last encounter, he had come for you.

"Can I kiss you?" Frankie choked out in the empty room as if he held the thought in any longer he was going to burst. His chest ached, and his jaw hurt from clenching his entire body to keep his own tears at bay. He didn't need to add his own shit on top of your distress, and he shouldn't have asked for such an intimate act after just untying you from a fucking chair. But he heard Will's voice promising him that he would get to tell you everything he had ever meant to since you met.

"Yes, yes," you nodded, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks.

He cupped your face and looked at you like he had never seen you before. Your cheek was bruised from the day before, the purple edges starting to turn yellow but the majority not the center remained a painful looking black. Your lip was swollen, very obviously cut open and recently dried by something forceful and crass that should have never been allowed to touch you in the first place. The corners of your mouth were irritated and chapped from the gag and from screaming, another image that he didn't want either of you to have to remember after today.

He shouldn't kiss you, he shouldn't entertain such a self indulgent act when you were this badly hurt, but you didn't stop him. If he was a bigger man, he would have stopped himself, but the thought vanished as he met your eyes. Those soft, kind, eyes that he wanted to lose himself in were so tired, red with tears, and downright broken. If Lorea was still in this house...he would skin him alive.

His lips were a feather's touch against your own and you swallowed the whimper that threatened to leave your mouth because you knew such a noise would gut him. You wanted to hold him close and never let him go again. Suddenly all of the excuses you had ever had for settling down with Frankie Morales were bullshit. You allowed your arms to be pinned against his chest as he held you close and you closed your eyes. He smelled like rain and sweat but under that he smelled like how you remembered, like campfire and earth.

Not wanting to cause you any discomfort, he allowed himself one last quiet peck before nosing your cheek and exhaling softly.

"Take me home, Frankie," you breathed against his face, your voice shaking despite your efforts. "I just want to go home."

He nodded against you and you felt his grip tighten. "You got it. We're going home."

"(Y/n)?," Pope said as he broke the threshold of the room and laid eyes on you and Frankie. "Oh, gracias a Dios," he said, lowering his voice as he crossed the room and fell to his knees with a graceful thud. Frankie relinquished his hold on you so the other man could gather you up into his arms.

You hugged him back as tightly as you could, but nothing prepared you for the grip he engulfed you in and the grimace on your face made Will speak up. "Easy, man, she's seen better days," he called from his position in the doorway and it made you smile.

"Are you hurt? What did they do?" Pope said, sitting back on his heels and holding you at arm's length to see your injuries.

"I'm okay," you tried to sound reassuring. "Sore, but okay."

"Did you have any idea why they wanted your crew?" Will asked, and you shook your head.

"No, I don't. I've been in this room since I got here. I know they change who guards the door, but that's it." You put a hand on Frankie's leg to steady yourself and his hand found the small of your back. Even sitting on the floor, you felt weak, you were so tired.

For two days the only human contact you had was with a select few of Lorea's men. With a shift change, they gave you water, led you to the bathroom, and then redid the zip ties on your hands and feet. The blindfold stayed on through everything and they had strict orders to keep their hands to themselves and not rough you up too much. You weren't stupid--Journalists made good ransom chits, especially American, female ones.

"Is there any of your crew left?" Will asked and you shook your head.

"They killed them, oh god," your hands started to shake again and your breath caught as you remembered the men kneeling in the tennis courts of the mansion, landing in a puddle of blood and darker things with each bang of a gun. "They're dead--it's just me."

Santiago pulled you back against him and put his chin on top of your hair. "It's okay. Stop. Nothing you did would have stopped it. Your job was to survive, remember?"

You nodded, not really wanting one of your brother's trademark military pep-talks. You knew he was right, what else could you have done? But that thought didn't do anything to change the bile in your stomach that made you want to throw up.their coms crackled to life, thankfully drawing yourself out of your own thoughts.

"Fish? You got eyes on (y/n)?" Benny's voice came over the radio and you looked at Will who gave you a wink. Of course he had brought his little brother on the rescue mission.

Frankie reached up and clicked the button pinned to the collar of his shirt. "Yeah we got her. She's okay."

"Good," Tom's voice crackled back. "Now, everyone to the upstairs office. We got a problem."

"Shit," Pope cursed, getting up and letting go of your arms so Frankie could take over. "Take your time," he said to you as your knees wobbled and Frankie hooked his arm around your waist.

"I got her," the other man said, nodding his head in the direction of the door. "Go see what's wrong."

Pope hesitated, taking another glance at you before nodding his thanks to Frankie and Will. The blond moved to the side, but kept his post of guarding the door so Frankie could give you his full attention. He started unbuckling his bulletproof vest and you looked at him in confusion. He tossed his backpack next to his gun on the floor, clearly intent on getting to the vest itself.

"What are you doing?"

"You're gonna put this on," he said flatly, pulling the Kevlar over his head in one fluid motion.

"Frankie, you need that," you tried to protest but he shook his head.

"Arms up," he said firmly and you obeyed in silence. He was gentle as he pulled it over your head and tightened the first strap on your side. He clipped the buckle and moved to the next one, making sure the material hugged you tightly and was secure. As much as you wanted to argue, the look on his face made you bite your tongue. His sole mission was to get you would of that mansion alive by whatever means necessary.

His handsome face was much too serious and you couldn't help putting your hand on his cheek as he leaned down towards your chest to finish the last buckle around your back. The small smile you received was worth the action. He pulled a handgun from the back of his belt and held it in his palm.

"Safety," he said pointing to the small black dot under the magazine. He clicked it up and the dot showed the smallest flash of orange paint underneath. "On."

"I know how to handle a glock, Cat," you said quietly and he grinned.

"Just making sure," he raised his hands in playful defense as he let the full weight of the gun transfer to your own hand. "I know it's not the beretta."

You blushed and shook your head as you holstered the gun in the waistband of your jeans. You suddenly wished you had the beretta that was sitting useless in the nightstand beside your bed. Santiago had purchased it before he left back for Columbia and he entrusted Frankie to teach you how to use it. And the man in front of you had stayed true to his word.

"Let's keep moving," Will broke the silence between the two of you and nodded his head down the hall.

Frankie agreed with a nod of his own and started to walk towards the door only to stop and hold his hand slightly behind him. You crossed the gap and gripped it tightly, something you had done a thousand times, felt as wonderful as it had years ago. "Stay with me," he said gently and you nodded. He knew it was an unnecessary request, because right now, he couldn't think of a single thing that would make him let you out of his sight.

--

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Consequences

Summary: Y/N faces the consequences of giving too much of herself to people who weren’t worth it. When she doesn’t show up to hang out with the other pogues, JJ gets worried. 

TW: abusive relationship, mentions of anxiety

reader x ex!rafe , reader x platonic!pogues , reader x jj 

................................................................................................................................

Everything had been fine with Rafe in the beginning. He was sweet and nice to you, but it was almost as if a switch flipped. He became abusive, manipulative, and he would constantly try and overpower you. He wanted you to lose weight so you did, you slowly started eating less until you dropped the weight he had been telling you was unnecessary. He didn’t want you hanging out with anymore people, only him. You stopped hanging out with the pogues because that’s what he wanted. He told you that he was never pleased enough, so you lost your virginity to him, when you didn’t want to, and tried to please him more even when you weren’t in the mood. Nothing had ever been non-consensual, but it still did a toll on your mind. He convinced you this was love, and you were almost positive you loved him. You were exhausted though. You couldn’t do anything you loved before, and you couldn’t see the people you loved. You just felt like a shell, hollowed out and empty.

“Rafe please I can’t keep doing this!” you screamed through tears. 

“Y/N if you weren’t such a whore we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now,” he yelled back, walking closer to you. 

“Rafe they’re my friends. Please. J was just worried. He texts me all the time to make sure I’m okay.” 

“Friends don’t look at friends that way.” he mumbled through gritted teeth, clenching his fists. 

“Listen to yourself! JJ has been my best friend since I was 5. Let that process and then go ahead and continue being a jealous psycho.” you yelled throwing your hands up. 

He didn’t like that very much, you could tell by the way his hand collided with your face. 

Your eyes watered but you refused to let them fall as he hit you three more times. 

“Rafe please stop.” 

“Y/N I- I didn’t mean to.” 

“You say that every time. I- Look we’re done. It’s over.” You said shaking your head and wiping your tears. 

You quickly left his room and rushed out the front door to your car. Once safely inside you punched the wheel a few times and then drove off. 

................................................................................................................................

You heard your phone keep going off but shut it off. You didn’t want to hang out with the pogues and have them asking too many questions. You couldn’t stand the looks of sympathy from them, you weren’t some charity case you could take care of yourself. 

A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts. With a quiet “come in” your door opened revealing your mother. She sat on the bed next to you and looked at your tear stained face. “Sweetie what happened?”

“Rafe hit me again.” You mumbled as she played with your hair.

“Honey that just means he loves you.”

“Mom no it doesn’t! I’m tired of this! I’m tired of feeling this way and I’m tired of you never understanding that that’s not love. You always support toxic men and try and push unhealthy situations on your daughter! I’m not falling for it mom. I can’t keep doing it. I won’t be you.” You yelled.

“Don’t talk to me that way, I’m your mother.”

“Please just get out.”

You sighed and ran you fingers through your hair as she got up and left. Looking around you found your bag and began to throw some clothes and a few essential items you needed. You thought for a second and then decided it was time for the pogues to know where you’ve been. Grabbing your keys and slinging your bag over your shoulder, you grabbed your phone and turned it back on. You ran towards your car and headed towards the Chateau.

................................................................................................................................

You’d arrived at the Chateau probably 20 minutes ago at this point, but you couldn’t pull yourself together. Your anxiety was at a high, you couldn’t stop crying, and you were scared they might reject you. You were supposed to go out on the marsh with them today after all.

Finally deciding to go in you pushed yourself out of the car and towards the Chateau. You knocked with shaking hands and heard the noise diminish inside. Debating on running away instead you began to turn, but the door opening stopped you. “Y/N/N, what happened to you?” John B asked sadly.

He quickly pulled you into his arms as you shook your head. “Rafe.” He brought you inside where you felt your friends gazes fall on you. They quickly joined the hug knowing that was probably what you needed the most.

“Look at you, you’ve dropped two sizes.” Kie stayed worriedly. “Are you eating?”

You sighed and sat in the pullout couch, watching as everyone took seats in various places around you. Then you brought your eyes to the floor. “I guess I have some explains to do huh?”

You drew a shaky breath before beginning. “As you all know, I was with Rafe. At first everything was fine, I would say perfect if I didn’t know everything.” You said with a sarcastic laugh. “Then something changed in him. He was overbearing, manipulative, and ultimately became abusive. I was convinced I loved him, I know now that I didn’t I just felt like that was love. He wanted me to lose weight because he thought I had “unnecessary weight” on me, and I agreed so I lost the weight, and slowly my appetite went with it. He convinced me that I only needed to see him, he didn’t let me see you guys. He didn’t want me to. I was also told I wasn’t pleasing him enough so I tried my hardest to please him as much as I could. It was never non-consensual, but there was times where I just did it because he wanted to. I tried to reach out for help from my mom, but she told me that’s just how he showed love. I believed her until today.”

You felt the tears in your face before your body began to shake. It was so much worse coming out of your mouth. Drawing your knees up to your body, you slowly rocked yourself back and forth. “I’m so-sorry I should’ve been a better friend. I should’ve listened.”

“This was not your fault. None of it was. None.” Kie said as she wrapped her arms around you and ran her fingers through your hair soothingly.

“It’s okay for you to feel the way you do right now, but you can’t blame yourself. We don’t blame you, and you were still messaging us we just couldn’t see you. We aren’t mad. We love you.” Pope said as he rubbed up and down your legs trying to soothe you.

At some point you zoned out and Kie was replaced with JJ. He sat and whispered sweet nothings into your ear and reassurances. John B was cooking while Kie and Pope cleaned up and were setting the living room up for a sleepover. 

Your body began to shake again as you thought about how Rafe had effected you. JJ pulled you tighter and began to rub up and down your back to relax you. “It’s okay. You’re fine.” You clutched his shirt. You looked at him through your puffy eyes, and he smiled sadly at you. 

................................................................................................................................

John B walked and set five plates down on the coffee table and he looked at you expectantly. “I made your favorite, Y/N/N. Just try and eat what you can, we’re gonna get you healthy again.” He said patting your knee. You nodded and picked up the plate, eating bites here and there. 

Your friends knew you wouldn’t be okay for a while but they were willing to hold you until your pieces were put back together. 

That night you all just laid on the pull out couch cuddled into one another. You were the first to fall asleep among the pile of limbs. 

................................................................................................................................Months had gone by now and you most definitely had your days, but you were getting better. Your friends were with you through everything. You had emancipated yourself from your mother, and now lived at the Chateau with John B and sometimes (most the time) JJ. 

“Hey get up sleepyhead. We got fish to catch on the marsh today.” John B said slapping your leg. 

“Mmmm go away.” You sat up anyways, stretching your body and climbing off the spare bed. You pulled your clothes off and changed into a new red swimsuit and a pair of denim short. Checking your outfit in the mirror, you smiled at the lack of ribcage you saw. You finally began to have an appetite again. Reaching on the dresser, you grabbed a hat that JJ left in there and put it on your head. Slipping your feet into your flipflops you ran to the kitchen to put the beers into the cooler and grabbed some fruits, since Kie was bringing sandwiches. You caught up with John B and attached your arm to his. 

“So who’re we gettin first?” You asked as you swung the cooler. 

“Pope and JJ. JJ stayed at Pope’s since they had a grocery run early this morning.” You nodded and allowed John B to help you into the boat. 

“Can I drive?” You asked excited. John B laughed and nodded his head. 

You began to head towards Pope’s dock. When both boys got on the boat they greeted you with hugs. JJ rested his head on your shoulder as you headed towards Kie’s dock, leaving a smile on your face. “I like this color on you.” You laughed and pushed him off you. You didn’t mind that he was flirty with you, but you caught feelings pretty easily. You’d always thought JJ was attractive, but you’d known him since you were 5 some things just never happen. 

Kie jumped on the boat and you headed towards the marsh. John B was planning on driving the boat back tonight, so you were able to drink as much as you wanted while you were out here. You stopped the boat in your usual spot and JJ dropped the anchor. “Pope I bet I can do a better cannonball than you.” You teased as you pulled your shorts off. 

“I highly doubt that. You’ve never been good at cannonballs.” 

You laughed and raced over to the edge of the boat, cannon balling off the edge. You came back up for air, and Pope was laughing beside you in the water. “Y/N definitely had the better cannonball.” Kie said. You smirked. “Sorry Pope don’t make the rules.” 

The rest of the group followed you guys into the water where you just swam and messed around for a while. You grew tired and rested your body on JJ’s back. “Let’s have a chicken fight!” You yelled. JJ smiled dipping under the water to position you on his shoulder, Pope doing the same for Kie. You waited for John B to yell to start, then you were merciless to Kie. Ultimately you and JJ won. You both cheered as Pope and Kie went under water. JJ put you down and then you wrapped your arms around him. He smiled at you and then looked down at your lips, you doing the same. Before your lips could connect you swam away climbing back onto the boat. 

You pulled a beer out of the cooler and took a long sip. You pulled out some strawberries too and sat and ate those for a little bit. 

“Hey.” Kie said sitting next to you. You smiled and greeted her. 

“I saw what happened between you and JJ.” 

“What do you mean?” You questioned acting oblivious. 

“I mean I saw you almost kiss. It wouldn’t be the worst thing would happen. You deserve someone like him. He cares about you so much. He also is the best him when he’s with you.” 

“Kie, there’s nothing wrong with him. It’s me. I’m scared to get in another relationship. Just damaged goods huh?” You laughed. 

“JJ would never hurt you. But I do understand where you’re coming from.” 

“You might be right though. Maybe I’ll give him a shot.” You sighed. 

................................................................................................................................

You and JJ sat at the end of the dock, feet hanging over the edge. You debated on saying anything. 

“I’m sorry for running away.” 

“I’m sorry for trying to kiss you.” 

You both laughed as you had said something at the exact same time. 

“J, I was going to kiss you. I just got scared. I guess when something traumatic happens, it effects your more than you know.” 

“You don’t have to apologize for that. I should have known not to push you, especially when I know you haven't been ready. Hell I’m such an ass, I’ve been holding you as you’ve cried and broken down about it. I’m a terrible per-” 

You cut him off by placing your lips on his softly. He quickly kissed back and you smiled into the kiss, “J, stop you aren’t a terrible person. You’ve been helping me more than you know, have been since we were 5.” 

He smiled softly and kissed you again. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

[lannister-slings-and-arrows]

Could you supply us with some soft Catfish headcanons? I need more of my soft curly hair boy 💚

Hmmmmm. Catfish headcanons, you say? Well I’ll certainly give it my best shot. *cracks knuckles*

You can’t for the life of you figure out why someone who likes having their hair played with as much as he does wears a hat nearly 24/7. Though you’re kind of glad that he does: since he’s normally too shy to straight out ask for that kind of attention you rely pretty heavily on him meandering over to you, faux casually, taking his hat off, and turning those big brown eyes on you to know when he really wants you to pull him closer and dig your fingers into the curly brown mop on top of his head.

Fish loves going for drives with you in his best up old Chevy pickup. Sometimes he’ll pull into a field and hoist you into the bed so the two of you can watch the stars, sometimes he’ll just reach over and rest his hand on your leg, only letting it go when he needs to shift gears. (He does not drive automatic.)

You’ve managed to convince him to fool around in the bed of his truck a couple of times on his long night time drives with you. The only living things for miles were a couple of cows, but he was still jumpy and convinced someone was going to catch the two of you with your pants down. Having met his friends you’re a little surprised at how shy Catfish is.

You’ve asked him a few times how he got the name Catfish and he just blushes, mumbles something about stupid kids and basic training and comes up with an excuse to have his head inside the engine of his plane. You know you could a ask Pope and he’d probably tell you, but watching Fish try to avoid the subject is more than a little adorable.

Speaking of adorable. You’re a little surprised at how much you enjoy watching Catfish with his daughter. His ex had just given up custody and he was still getting used to being a full time single dad when the two of you met and it definitely had its ups and downs. But you could see how much he loved her when his smile lit up his entire face as he told you all about the girl. You weren’t particularly attached to kids, especially ones her age who didn’t really do much more than sleep and eat, but you found yourself smiling along as he told you just how perfect she was.

At nearly forty Catfish is just now learning how to cook. It’s.... a process.

Catfish is a man of simple pleasures. He likes holding his baby, he likes flying planes and helicopters, he likes beer, comfortable jeans, and likes having you in his arms, hanging out on the couch at the end of the day talking about absolutely nothing.

He’s pretty stoic when he’s sick, he’s even calm and on top of everything when the baby is sick. But he’s a wreck when you’re not feeling well. You’re a grown adult, to see you reduced to the kind of helpless state he normally sees his 10 month old in stresses him out. Do you want him to leave you alone? Do you need his help? He ends up hovering anxiously and it’s all you can do not to snap at him to stop staring at you as you puke your guts up.

You know when a puppy has a brand new toy and all they want to do is find you and show you said toy? Insistently? Most likely by shoving the slobbery thing into your face? Well that’s Catfish when he takes you flying with him. Hope you aren’t afraid of flying, because he’s a bit of a show off in the air and you’re nearly 100% sure that Cessna 182’s are not supposed to do that- CATFISH STOP LAUGHING YOU’RE GOING TO CRASH THIS FUCKING DEATH TRAP!!!

He can never remember how you like your coffee. He remembers you’re favorite pizza toppings, what you like on a burger, what you favorite beers are, he remembers what your favorite song was the week that you met over a year ago but he can’t for the life of him remember that you think milk in coffee is the most disgusting thing in the world.

Fish is a hugger. It took him a while for him to get up the courage to come up behind you and hug you, but once he did and you didn’t seem to mind he took that at carte blanche to hug you pretty much every time he saw you. Walked into his apartment? You get a hug. Open the fridge? You get a hug. Sit down on the couch next to him? Consider yourself hugged. Etc etc.

Catfish is the ultimate soft boy. The only one of The Boys who is softer than this softie is Marcus Pike, but he isn’t nearly as shy as Frankie.

[angelliev]

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Twelve - Spring Break Forever

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: The Pogues spend Spring break in Miami Beach

Warnings: Light smut, cursing, pranks, drugs, alcohol, tattoos and piercings?

A/N: Sorry I haven't posted in a few days. I was camping this weekend with my family, which went downhill. Sorry if this one feels a little rushed. I hope you guys like it! (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own any of the shows or characters.) 

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

I’ve been to many places on vacation. Malibu, Las Vegas, San Francisco, Houston, Manhattan, Philadelphia, Chicago, Boston, Seattle, Orlando, Los Angeles and more. All of those were with my family for business, but I never had much fun. This time though, I’m going to Miami with the coolest people on the fucking planet.

The road trip has consisted in us playing card games in the back, switching drivers, telling stories, and stopping to eat at diners. As of now, we’re on 95 in Florida, not too far from our destination. JJ’s head lays on my chest, fast asleep, while I hold him and stroke his hair, listening to his adorable soft snores. If I ever started shifting, he’d hug me tighter, snuggling into my breast.

“He’s such a big softie for you.” Kie chuckles, along with the rest of the pogues. I glance to see Kie doodling on her leg with a marker. That’s when a great idea popped in my head.

“Hey Kie, how good are you at drawing penises?” I asked oh so casually. Everyone laughs and gives me a questioning look. “Can’t be that hard. Why do you ask?” I smirk and look at JJ. “I just thought it was time I’d get JJ back for all of his pranks. JJ was the ultimate prankster in our group. Now he gets a taste of his own medicine.

We arrive at the hotel parking lot. Thankfully, Sarah was easily able to convince her dad to let her book a reservation in one of the suites for Spring break. The pogues get out to stretch. I’m still trapped under JJ.

“Hey baby. Wake up. We’re here.” I nudge him. He just groans. “Finally, I thought that was never going to end.” He said groggy. I couldn’t stop a giggle slip past my lips when he lifted his head up, giving me a full view of the penis shooting cum on his head. He’s going to fucking kill me.

“What?” He asked confused as he got his duffel bag. I get a hold of myself for a moment. “Nothing. I just love you so much babe.” I wrap my arms around his neck before pecking his lips giggling. “How much of my weed did you smoke?” He asked. “None. I’m just so happy.” The pogues are having difficulty holding in their laughter, JJ just stands there clueless. “I swear to god if you guys smoked all my weed.” He mutters before walking up to the entrance. Everyone he passed by, gave him weird looks while some laughed. Sarah and John B go to the front desk to check us in, while we sit in the lobby.

That’s when JJ got super touchy feely with me. It first started off with him grabbing my thigh. Then it went to wrapping his arm around me. Normally, I wouldn’t find this odd, but it kind of felt almost territorial, especially when he kissed me hard. I finally pull away after needing air.

“What is up with you?” I asked. “That guy over there keeps fucking staring at you.” He grumbles. I just laugh, knowing I wasn’t the one he was staring at. “Don’t worry tiger. I’m all yours.” I play with hair. The pogues couldn’t hold their laughter in anymore, they start laughing hard, tears falling. I couldn’t help but join. “What the fuck is so funny??” JJ scabs the lobby.

“I don’t know.” Is all I was able to say. Before he could say anything, Sarah holds up the room key. We all make our way to the elevator, hand in hand with JJ. We squeeze in with a dad and his kid. The dad immediately notices the dick on JJ’s head and just chuckles. The son, who must’ve been like seven, couldn’t stop staring at JJ’s head. JJ notices this and takes a step away, a little creeped out.

“Hey mister, why’s there a peepee on your head?” The boy asked with the most serious face. Pope chokes on his water laughing along with the dad.

“What??” JJ asked looking at the kid puzzled. “There’s a peepee on your head!” JJ’s widen. He snatches my phone and pulls up the camera. He finally sees the dick on his head. Everyone starts bursting out laughing.

“You guys are so stupid.” He tries rubbing it off, surprisingly not cursing, sparing the child. JJ whispers into my ear, “You’re in for it now babygirl. Daddy’s gonna punish you tonight.” I only smirk, looking forward for tonight.

Next Morning;)

I groan as I toss and turn, looking for a certain someone in the empty bed. How dare my personal body pillow leave me. I look up to see JJ in the bathroom brushing his teeth. I admire his shirtless figure. God he’s so handsome. He catches my staring eyes, smirking. “Sleep good babygirl?” He asked closing the door and taking a hit from his vape. “Mm. C’mere.” I demand, arms open wide. He crawls on top of me. He kisses me softly, tongue slipping in. I let my hands roam his body. “You were a little rough with me last night daddy.” I say in such an innocent little voice, pouting. “Aw, did daddy beat your pretty little pussy up too much? Maybe you should’ve been a good girl yesterday and I wouldn’t have to punish you.” He plays along. “I just wanted to have some fun.” I say innocently. “Well, if you’re a good girl today, I’ll make sure to reward you. You gonna be a good girl for daddy?” His fingers trace my lips. “Yes, daddy.” I whispered. He leans down, our lips barely touching mine. “That’s my babygirl.” His lips finally attach to mine. I softly moan into the kiss. “Baby, I want you.” I whine. “I know you do babygirl. I’ll take good care of you. I promise. Just be a good girl for me.” He peppers kisses on my neck before the door swings open startling the two of us. Charging in are the Pogues, who pile on the two of us, ignoring our pleads and screams.

“Get your swimsuits on ya’ll. We’re going to the beach!” Sarah tickles me, making me erupt in laughter. “We would if you guys weren’t crushing us!” JJ wheezed. “Woogity, woogity!” Pope runs out of the room excited. JJ and I quickly get changed into our swimsuits and clothes. I walk out to see the boys ready with their trunks, tops, sunglasses and hats. The girls were both rocking their vibrant bikinis. Kie wore her favorite bright purple bikini, while Sarah wore her a hot pink, and I was wearing my royal blue, one of JJ’s favorites. The six of us make our way out of the hotel and into the beating sun.

The beach was insanely crowded with spring breakers. Many of them were already roaring drunk and high, having the time of their lives. We waste no time to join in on the fun. Drinks in hand, dancing to the music blasting from the speakers. We easily fit in with the wild crowd. I loved the feeling of being so carefree, not having to worry about anything from back home. As of now, we’re in the moment. We’re young and in love. We’re chasing thrills, always on an adventure. Whether that’s us chasing each other around like kids, chugging down a beer, splashing each other in the water, starting tickle fights, and more. We let our youth get the best of us.

We didn’t watch the day pass by as we partied on. We were all high as shit on our way back to the hotel room, and we apparently all had the munchies. John B held the phone as we all sat in the living room of the hotel suite watching cartoons and jumping on the beds, being chaotic. “What the fuck do you guys want?” He asked as we sat their clueless as to what we want to eat. “Food!” JJ answered, earning an eye roll from his best friend.

“Okay, can I get six cheeseburgers, six milkshakes, two of each flavor, a lot of fries, and by a lot, I mean like a big bucket of it, and do you guys have any Cheez-Its?” We all looked at him, feeling sorry for the chefs. “Downstairs? Okay. Ooh! You guys have cheesecake? Can we get? What flavor? Um, all of them! Why not.” Sweet baby Jesus, John B. “Thank you!” He hangs up. “Foods on the way. Can someone come with me downstairs? I need Cheez-Its.” Nobody volunteers, not even Sarah, so I raise my hand, cause why not? “Cool beans. We’ll be back in a second.” John B hollers before slamming the door. “Get me some fruit snacks!” Pope shouts desperately. “You got it dude!” We give him a thumbs up.

“So, what’s with you and Cheez-Its?” I asked curiously. “They’re awesome. I love them like you love choking on tapioca pearls.” He smirks. “What the hell?! How do you know about that?” I asked shocked. “Sarah sent us that video of you choking the pearls after seeing JJ. You must have it really bad for him huh?” He dies laughing. I’m going to kill Sarah. “In my defense, I didn’t even know he was at my place, and those tapioca pearls are dangerous. They should have a warning label.” I shrug my shoulders. “Aw, don’t worry. JJ’s got it pretty bad for you too.” “Oh? How so?” I asked interested.

“Ever since we found out about you guys, he’s been talking nonstop about you. He’s like ‘John b she’s so pretty, oh my god she’s amazing, you wouldn’t believe what she said to me today.’ I’ve never seen that boy blush so much in his entire life. He’s crazy about you.” I couldn’t help but smile thinking about JJ. “I’m really glad he’s with you though. Seriously, for a while I thought he’d never just settle down with one person. He was either having meaningless hookups or getting his heartbroken by bitchy girls.” This made me frown. I hate the idea of seeing him heartbroken. Knowing that he’s hooked up with many girls in the past, never seemed to bother me though.

“What made him want to be in a relationship with me?” I asked curiously. I wonder what would've happened if that was just a meaningless hookup. I probably wouldn't be here in Florida today.

“I asked him the same question. At first, he was amazed by how beautiful you were. He started falling for you harder, when guys hung out more. He said he knew he loved you the day you told him that heaven is a place where you’d see him. No one has ever told him that before. You made his heart melt that night.” I smile at the fond memory on the balcony.

“He really love you. You know that right?” John B scanned my eyes. “I know. I love him too. He’s gotta be the best thing that has ever happened to me. I can’t imagine my life without him. I haven't even known him for a year yet, and I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with. My dad says I'm too young to love him, that they're just stupid feeling, but I know he’s wrong. I’ve told JJ more about myself than I’ve told my best friends. That’s how much I trust him. I’ve never been so close and intimate with someone before.” I ramble on, JJ clouding my mind. JB smiles down on me, approving my answer.

“I know what you mean. JJ and I have been best friends since the third grade. I just know that we’ll always be tight, even after high school, and we become adults. Our bond is too strong to break. Just like you and JJ’s love is unstoppable.” He smiles. “It’s JJ’s loyalty that makes relationships with him so promising.” I say and we both nod in agreement. “I’m glad you're a part of this group Aria. Welcome to the family.” He holds out his fist. I gladly return it. “I’m glad to be a part of it.” I smile as the two of return to the suite.

We all chowed down on the shitload of food delivered to us. I don’t even want to know what the room service bill is going to look like. All of us sit in a circle as we play truth or dare. I just got finished my dare, slurping down my vanilla milkshake, earning me a terrible brain freeze. “Whoo!” I shout. “Alright Aria, your turn to pick someone.” Pope says. “Okay, JJ! Truth or dare?” I asked. “Dare.” He challenged me. “No! You’ve picked dare five times already! Truth!” Kie shouted.

“Fine! Truth!” JJ puts his hand up in defeat. I think long and hard for a moment, until the perfect question popped in my head. “What is your full name?” It just occurred to me that I have never heard of is full name. Everyone just calls him JJ. “Nope!” He refused to answer the question. “Oh, come on! You have to answer! It can't be that bad! Is it Jack? Jonas? Jayden? Johnny? Jeff?” I guess. “Nope! Different question.” He still refused to answer. I huff before an idea popped in my head. His driver’s license! I don’t hesitate to run to his wallet. He follows closely behind, already knowing what I'm up to.

I quickly snatch the wallet off the counter, he tries to swipe it out of my hand. I frantically open it up to find the license, where his name is beautiful printed. Jesse Jacob Maybank. “Aw, babe that’s such a nice name! I love it! You definitely look like a Jesse and a Jacob.” I smile at his embarrassed face. “You're in for it now.” He chases me around the suite. Everyone gets up in excitement.

“Throw her in the pool!” Pope suggests. JJ’s, or should I say Jesse Jacob’s, ears perk up at the suggestion. “No! No! I swear to god JJ if you throw me in that pool!” I continue to run away from him. Everyone was blocking the bed and bathrooms, so I run out the suite and into the halls, JJ not too far behind. He finally catches up to me, grabbing waist and lifting me up. I squirm and squeal as he carries me down the hall, the Pogues laughing and encouraging him to throw me in.

We had to sneak our way in, since it was past ten, so no one was around. “No! Please! I’m sorry! No!” He launches the two of us into the cool water. Thank goodness we’re still in our swimwear. I resurface and find my friends laughing. “You jerk.” I splash him. “But I'm your jerk.” He pulls me close and plants a kiss on my lips. Our friends groan before splashing us. “The last thing we need is for you guys to be banging in the pool.” Says Kie. A devilish smile appears on my face when I see Pope and John B sneaking up behind their clueless girlfriends before pushing them into the water. We all let out a chain of laughs as we continue to screw around in the pool.

I sit on the steps with the girls, smoking some weed, as the boys play around in the deep end. We stare at the smoke combine with the beautiful night sky. “I never want to leave.” I say, gaining the girls attention. “I know. We should all live together in this big house on the beach. Every night could be a sleepover.” Says Kie. “I just don’t want to go back home.” Says Sarah. “Me either. I don’t even want to know what my father has to say.” I huff. He's probably livid as we speak. The whole neighborhood is probably gossiping.

“Have you talked to him yet?” Asked Kie. “Hell no. I think I might crash out in JJ’s room at the chateau for a bit when we get back. I really don’t feel like dealing with my dad.” “He’ll come around eventually. He just needs some time. Plus, your mom is the voice of reason. He just needs to get to know JJ. Everything will work out just fine.” Sarah reassures me. “I hope so.” I say looking at my prune fingers. “We should probably head in and shower.” I suggest. Me and the girls get out of the pool. The boys said they’ll come up later.

We all shower off and get dressed, before snuggling together under the blankets and put on ‘Mean Girls’. “I remember when you guys were fighting like crazy back then.” I chuckle to myself. These two were ruthless. Kie sighs. “It’s a good thing we got our shit worked out though.” Sarah chuckles. “Tell me about it.” “I love you guys, you know that right?” I asked. The two just looked at me with heart eyes. “We know.” Says Kie. “Just promise me that none of us will split up again. No matter how bad the fight is, please don’t go separate ways. It was hard seeing my best friends hating each other for so long.” I confess. “We promise. We’re not going anywhere splinter bean. What brought this on?” Sarah asked concerned.

“Nothing, I’m just scared, that we’ll split up after school. It’s senior year, and I don’t want us to drift apart. Some things just don’t last forever you know?” I asked. Kie strokes my hair. “Don’t worry. You're stuck with us to the end, because we love you too much to let you go.” I smile as I snuggle closer to the girls. The front door opens, the boys come bustling in. JJ’s eyebrow cocks up.

“Ooh, some girl on girl action. I don’t know if I should be happy or jealous.” JJ smirks, and we all just roll our eyes before Kie says. “You're such a perv.” JJ and the boys all land on top of us. I don’t know how we managed to fit on the bed together. At least we don’t have to worry about being cold.

The past few days have been fun exploring Miami Beach, trying a bunch of foods, partying all day, and such. I have no idea how we ended up in a tattoo parlor though. Kie had insisted on getting herself a new dolphin tattoo. I scanned the tattoo book, tempted to get something. I just finished getting my belly button pierced, which JJ doesn't know about yet. Him and the boys are off somewhere else, since we wanted to have a girl’s night out.

“What are you getting?” Asked Sarah. “Don't know yet. I think I want something meaningful though. I just don’t know what yet.” I continue to browse. I then see this nice font, which gives me an idea. “Can I ask you something?” I looked at Sarah. “What’s up?” She asked. “Would it be crazy if I got a name tattoo?” I asked warily. Her eyes widen. “Oh, like a certain someone's name?” She smirked. I just nod happily. “I think I know what I want...”

I lay down on the bed, naked underneath my robe, waiting anxiously for JJ to return. My eyes never leave my wrist. Inked on my once innocent skin, is printed, ‘JJ’. I’m a little nervous as to how he’ll react. We have the place to ourselves, finally, and I’m planning on making the beast out of it. The door opens, making me jump. I look up to see a surprised JJ, as his eyes roam my body. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” He says pleased with me wearing nothing but a silk robe, which he’ll definitely rip off me.

“That’s not the only surprise I have for you.” I say. “Oh? And what would that be?” He crawls next to me. “Well, for starters I got this.” I open up the robe, revealing my belly button piercing. He bites his lip. “That’s so fucking hot babygirl.” He says, ready to lunge at me. “Ah ah. There's also this.” I extend my arm, showing off the tattoo. His eyes bulge at the ink. The silence scares me for a moment. “Baby, I don’t know what to say.” He was speechless. “Do you like it?” I asked hesitantly. “I love it! I’m flattered. It’s just a lot to take in. Plus, I kind of have a surprise for you too.” He takes off his shirt to reveal something that nearly made pass the fuck out. On his naked chest, I see my name, Aria, forever inked on his beautiful skin. Tears well in my eyes.

“Oh. My. God. Are you serious? When did you get that?” I asked, my hand tempted to touch the ink. “Today, looks like great minds think alike.” He chuckles. The two of us sit there in silence, processing our thoughts. Neither of us could believe that we had our names forever printed together on our bodies. I just smile and gleam before grabbing his face and littering it in kisses. He giggles. “I love you JJ. Always and forever.” “I love you too Aria. God, I love you so much. You’re the only one for me.” He declares as I begin to unbuckle his belt, his shorts pool around his feet. I let the robe slip off my body, the cool air bites at my skin.

For the rest of the night, we dived deep into a pool of love and pleasure. We whispered sweet nothings into each other's ears as we made love. We didn't hold back our moans. His name left my lips like a prayer. Our breaths mixed together when he kissed me. I love you can be heard throughout the bedroom. He marked me when he filled me up completely with his seed. We have each other. Always and forever.

Always and forever will I remember this trip, as I stand alongside my family and lover, watching the sunset one last time in Miami before we hit the road. I can’t help but smile as I gazed at these amazing people. We jump in the van, leaving behind the words ‘Pogues 4 Life’ in the sand.