#i for one have some sympathy for the person you made up to get mad at

[aromantic-diaries]

Thinking about the whole "cishet aromantic men" thing and I just think it kind of sucks that we see the words 'cishet' and 'men' and think "aha, there's someone who has absolutely nothing in common with us and it's us VS them" and it gets paired up with the shallow perception of aromanticism as just not wanting to date and staying single. I don't think alloromantic people can really understand what it actually feels like to be aromantic and just how alienating it can be sometimes.

So who is this hypothetical cishet aromantic man that we're so upset about? I mean labels aside he is a person with his own thoughts, feelings, goals, interests and perspective. And despite being cisgender and heterosexual, he is still outside of the norm because he is aromantic. This hypothetical person has probably wondered "why don't I feel the same way everyone else does?" He probably looked around to pick someone to have a crush on. He probably watched a movie or read a book with a love story in it and didn't think people actually felt those things. He probably feels guilty about wanting sex but not wanting the romance part of it. He probably wondered why he can't find the right person. And when he learned that he was aromantic he probably felt alone. He probably feels rejected by heteronormative society because he can't fall in love with the women he has sex with and feels rejected by the lgbtq+ community because he still wants to have sex with women.

Again, this is a hypothetical person. I don't know any cishet aromantic men personally. Probably because a lot of them either don't know what 'aromantic' even means or they know what it means but don't know it's what they are, or they know and they don't feel like they can be open about it. And all this aside, if anyone has any example of these big scary cishet aromantic men inserting themselves into queer spaces and causing problems, I would love to hear it because as far as I know this isn't a real problem

[luveline]

hotch sister idea-- convincing hotch to take you out to dinner with the whole team because you "want to properly meet his friends" (i'm a sucker for team dynamics) but then being shy and cute with spencer the entire time to the point that hotch notices and gets a tad protective...but ends with spencer getting her number or something

thank you for requesting 💌 —you attend a party with your older brother in a not so secret plight to see Dr. Reid. You fawn, Spencer flusters, and Hotch drinks a tad more than usual. fem, 2.3k

cw for mentions of past child abuse

The car is quiet besides the tread of the tires on asphalt. You click and unclick the clasp of your shoulder bag, checking for your purse, getting worried your purse isn’t in there, and checking again.

“If there’s something you want to ask me, you can ask me.”

You move your gaze to your brother. His quietness can make you nervous, a reflection of your father but with none of the cruelty. “I don’t want you to get mad at me if it’s stupid.”

“Well, I won’t. I promise.”

You know he won’t, but sometimes the fear remains. Even when you’re far from being a kid. “Do you remember when I got suspended for, um, disrespectful behaviour? My senior year?”

Aaron turns the wheel with care. “I do.”

“And we went for ice cream.”

“Yeah, honey, I remember.”

That’s the point you’re trying to make, maybe. That tenderness sewn into the middle of his sentence. If your dad knew you’d been suspended again he would’ve made you feel it. You remember the sinking sensation in your chest waiting for him to pick you up, having written the speech he’d give you in the car ride home in your head ten times over, the sting of his palm grazing your cheek before you’d even seen his hand. So you waited in a total violent panic, head rush, wondering if anything was worth anything, when Aaron arrived to pick you up.

How did you know? you’d asked.

I changed your emergency contact. I hope that’s okay.

“You asked me what I wanted and…”

What flavour did you want, honey? he’d asked. Honey, like he loved you, the only person in the whole world who’d bother asking. The only man who’d take you for ice cream at seventeen years old to cure a bad day.

“And you burst into tears,” Aaron says.

He’d sat down opposite you in his suit, torn from one of his trials, and you can’t remember anymore if he was an attorney or already in the FBI, but you can’t forget how he’d taken your wrists into his hands and asked you not to cry.

“When you took me home, Haley asked me if you’d upset me, and I didn’t know how to explain it so you said yes. And she shouted at you for a whole half hour.”

“Why are you thinking about this now?” he asks.

Maybe because college is over and you’re forced to move on. Aaron asked you to try hard and you have, but now you have your degree and you don’t know what to do with it, you’ll get a job, and then what?

“I’ve been thinking about… my love life.”

“Oh. And you have to talk about this with me?” he jokes.

“I don’t have anybody else.”

He tears his gaze from the windshield. “That’s not true.”

“But…”

He turns into the parking lot outside of Dan’s Fine Wine Bar and pulls into a tight space with ease. He hesitates before he flicks off the engine, turning to you with a smile. “You’ll always have me,” he says, “and we can talk about your love life. I want to. God knows you’ve heard enough about mine this last year.” You both grimace. “But if I have to listen one more time to you talking about Spencer–”

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“Honey.” He takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. “I’m not mad. But imagine your younger sibling comes to you one day to tell you they have feelings for your employee and try to find some sympathy for me!”

He clambers out of the car. You rush after him, unbuckling your seatbelt and nearly smashing your door into the car next to you. The air outside is cold, and you didn’t bring a jacket even though Aaron told you to twice, so you can’t mention it aloud. “I don’t have feelings for him.”

“You have a crush. You’re too old for it.”

“I am not.”

He gestures for you to walk in front of him as he clicks the fob for the car and the doors lock automatically. “I don’t understand what this has to do with your suspension.”

You chew on your cheek. Neon from the wine bar mottles your skin as you pass under it and through the door, air quickly turned from cold to temperate, the smell of old rain replaced by carpeting and beer. When you lift your head to his gaze, he’s still waiting for your answer. “You told me things wouldn’t be that hard forever. I was just wondering when it’s safe to say you were right.”

He grins at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to give you a rough hug. “Right now. Be happy right now, honey.”

“There they are!” Penelope calls from a table near the back. Suddenly, Aaron’s entire team of work colleagues stand up where they’ve dominated a whole row of tables and booths alike to greet you. “Oh my gosh, I missed you!”

You met Derek a long long time ago, and JJ around the same time, but everybody else is basically new. College was busy and Aaron busier —there was hardly ever time to visit, and when you did it was to see him and Haley. Meeting his friends was somehow put off.

You’ve since been introduced to Emily and Spencer, so Aaron directs you to David Rossi first. That’s the main team done quickly. But then he has to introduce you to Anderson, Sweeney, Kelly, Cory, Davidson, etc. So many agents for one man’s birthday. Anyone would think Derek Morgan was a celebrity.

“Happy birthday!” you say, when you finally get a moment to speak.

Derek reaches over the table to hug you quickly. “Thank you, gorgeous. We’re thrilled you’re here.” He pulls back, elbowing Penelope lovingly. “Aren’t we, mama?”

Penelope squeals and jumps for you. “So thrilled!”

Aaron touches your back, as if to say, I’m here, before taking a seat opposite Rossi. You hear snippets of a conversation about whiskey and when, but you’re distracted, because suddenly Penelope’s forcing you to sit down in her vacated seat, smack bang between Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.

Dr. Spencer Reid. “Hi,” you say quietly. Can’t help it. You remember how you’d reacted when you met him the week before last and wonder if it’s too late to pretend you’re cool —you’d gotten so worked up about him. He wrote a bunch of papers you had to read for your degree, some of the most sophisticated theory on elliptical math you’d ever read, and you’re supposed to act like he’s just a normal guy?

It doesn’t help that he’s model pretty. You’d never have thought of him as he is now over email, his huge brown eyes, pale skin, the flicking curl of his hair behind his ears. When he turns his head, he has indents on his nose from a pair of glasses you wish you’d seen. You clear your throat.

“Hi, Y/N, how are you?” Spencer asks.

“I’m gonna go get a drink now,” Aaron says. “What do you want?” he asks you.

“Um, anything. I don’t really wanna drink.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he says with deliberateness.

You feel heat like a rash on your neck. He’s embarrassing you doing his dad routine.

“You look pretty,” Spencer says.

You hide your hands under your thighs. “You think so?”

“You look beautiful,” Penelope says from across the table.

“Didn’t inherit that Hotchner scowl,” Derek says with a grin, “I thought it came with the name.”

“I learned how to do it the day they signed the adoption certificate,” you nudge in, “I just keep it to myself. I think Aaron has it down.”

Everybody within hearing distance laughs at you, to your relief. To your left, Spencer’s shoe hits your heel.

“So weird to hear his real name,” Emily says, tipping her drink to the side, ice and sugar on the surface. “I thought for sure you’d have to call him Hotch too.”

You look around in surprise. “He can’t be that bad. Does he really frown so much?”

You’re told vehemently that your brother is a grump, which is something you were aware of, just not experienced in. Sure, he’s had his unhappy moments, no one can smile every second of the day, but if everyone is to be believed he’s the sternest man alive. Eventually things drift into storytelling. Aaron brings you your drink with a straw and a napkin wrapped around the base, and you find yourself listening to a graphic rehash of Derek’s first case with the BAU.

Spencer’s leg is a coal at your side.

Your self preservation runs out. “You don’t drink?” you ask, nodding to his glass bottle of coke.

“I– I never did. I never had the opportunity. I’ve never even been to a party.” He pauses. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”

“I didn’t go to parties either,” you say, overjoyed to find common ground so quickly.

“I mean, I was never invited, but highschool parties didn’t seem like my thing. And, you know, I was twelve.”

“You were twelve in highschool?”

He’s doing that thing you noticed the day you met, where his lips move before he’s ready to talk, his emotion clear. “You weren’t?” he asks, not quite smooth but enough to make you laugh suddenly.

“I wish! I could’ve been done with college years ago.” Your brows pinch together. “Wait, so did you go to college as a kid?”

“I mean, sort of.”

“What? No wonder you didn’t go to any parties, that must’ve been insane. When I was twelve I was still setting my Barbie’s up for dance parties. Aaron has a photo of me dressed up in mom’s old clothes.” You lean forward for a sip of your drink.

“Oh, don’t worry, there’s a photo of me just like that when I was twelve, too.”

You laugh so hard you almost choke.

A cup comes down hard somewhere behind your turned head.

“You okay?” Emily asks.

She wears a smirk you don’t understand, a joke you’ve missed. You peer past her to look to Aaron for advice and find him rather sullen, hand curled tightly around his drink. You try to give him a signal to ask if he’s alright, but it’s to no avail.

“I’m fine, sorry, just a joke.” You turn back to Spencer. “That’s adorable.”

You’re breathless talking to him. He must notice, but Spencer doesn’t say a word.

If someone asked you why he caught your attention, you’re not sure you know the answer. He’s pretty, undeniably, and it’s fascinating that you used his theory while you were in school, but fascination isn’t endless. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you. No ones ever given such a clear sense of awe; he gets stuck on you, his eyes tracing your cheek and your nose and your lips. It’s noticeable, but it isn’t unwanted. You keep coming back to his smile as he talks, the flash of his teeth.

“I honestly didn’t know Hotch had a sister,” Spencer says.

“He was keeping us apart for a reason,” you say insistently, “I just don’t know what that reason is yet. He must’ve known you were the Dr. Reid I’d been reading.”

“It makes it sound like you’re reading me,” Spencer laughs. “Like, my hands.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Do I want you to what?”

“To read your palm?”

“You know how?”

“No parties, remember?”

Spencer gives you his hand. He has nice hands, big but slim-fingered like a pianist’s, though if he plays isn’t something you know. You angle it flat careful, your thumbs to either side of his open palm. “What do you want to know?” you ask.

“What can you tell me?”

You hum gently. “You have your life line, your head line, your heart line– your love line.”

“What does that– that mean for me?”

You press your thumb to his mount Jupiter, a soft hill of his hand under one of his fingers where the heart line begins. “Your desire for love, and your capacity for it. See how deeply curved it is?” you ask, drawing along his heart line gently. “It means you’re warm, and loving. That you could have a great love.”

You look up, his hand held gently between yours. “But I could be really wrong. I haven’t done this in so long, I might just be making stuff up.”

You sound insecure to your own ears, cringing away from his hand, but Spencer ducks his head just a little to keep your gaze, and he smiles at you softly. “It’s okay. I like your reading, even if it’s wrong. Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Aaron would buy me any book I asked for growing up, he…”

Your brother, sitting only a few seats away, can’t find it in himself to regret that particular generosity even if the sight of you holding Spencer’s hand isn’t one he wants to see. It’s odd. You’re fully grown up, and it’s not like Aaron thinks Spencer would ever hurt you purposefully, but it’s hard to see anyways. He can admit to feeling like a father watching his daughter finding a first love; he can’t keep you forever and he doesn’t want to, but it’s still hard to watch as you descend into giggles that border on dizziness.

“This is a good thing,” Rossi says. “You’ll never have to worry about her being out past curfew.”

Aaron laughs, it’s funny, and then he knocks back his drink.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Put it on My Tab

bouncer!!logan x bartender!fem!reader

summary: You’re a bartender at the club where Logan is a bouncer and he’s going to deny his feelings for you until he’s convinced himself that he’s lost his chance.

cw: hurt/comfort

“Do you really think you can get away with this?” Logan asked the girl who was standing in front of him. She clearly wasn’t of age and the photo on the fake she had handed him hadn’t even resembled her. And the cherry on top that was that “Minnesota” was missing one of the n’s.

“And do you really expect me to believe that you were born in 1988? You don’t even look like you could have been born in 1998. I can’t let you in, kid.” He could see that the girl was crying and to the untrained eye, she definitely could have been. But Logan had been in the business long enough to know that she was just trying to garner sympathy, which never worked on him. Crying, if anything, just made the man feel uncomfortable. 

“You’re such a dick,” she cried as she watched him bend the ID right before her eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time he was called that and it certainly wouldn’t have been the last. 

The ID was tossed into the trash can right next to him and he waved the next person forward as the girl slowly moved out of the way, making her sobs louder and more pathetic as a way to get him to change his mind, but he wouldn’t. He never did. 

“You’re good,” he told the man as he glanced over his ID before handing it back. The job got monotonous, but it was definitely better than being Wolverine, as far as how easy it was. And it definitely wasn’t stressful unless there was a fight he needed to break up, but security usually handled it before he got there. 

He actually loved his job, if he was being honest, but that was really only because of you. The second he laid eyes on you, he was convinced that he was in love. Maybe. He didn’t know what love felt like, but all he knew was that he liked you. A lot. Even though he was going to convince himself that he didn’t. He tried to be mean to you to make you leave him alone, but that only made you want to see him more. And let’s be honest, as soon as you flashed him that megawatt smile, he was done for. His legs felt like jelly and he couldn’t help but smile back even though it felt very foreign. 

And as soon as you told him he had a pretty one, he was smiling all the time for you, just begging for you to say it again, and you did. If it wasn't that, you were calling him nicknames which would have usually angered him, but since they were coming from your lips, he hardly minded.

The night seemed to drag on as he counted down the minutes until he could have a drink at the bar, just you and him as everyone else had gone home. You had insisted on staying, giving him a drink in exchange for a ride home that he always gladly gave you once the alcohol was out of his system.

He smiled as he saw that his glass of whiskey was sitting on the bar, but you were nowhere to be found. He supposed that maybe you were in the back, neatening up the space. But when he went to check the back room, his heart sank as he saw you giggling with Brett, the bar back.

He had seen the two of you doing that exact thing on multiple occasions and it made him sick, angry even. Even though he didn’t feel like he had a right to be because the two of you were just friends. And perhaps that was what he was convincing himself that he was to you. Even though he wanted to be more. Even though he often fantasized about kissing you right in front of Brett to show him what was what. And on some occasions, he imagined bending you over the bar and having his way with you. Pounding into you, making you tell him who exactly it was who owned your cunt.

“Oh, hey, handsome,” you greeted with that smile that always drove him crazy and he couldn’t help but mimic your actions. Because the truth was that he couldn’t be mad at you if he tried. You somehow had broken down his walls brick by brick and had even managed to thaw his frozen heart.

“Hi,” he replied, trying his best to not let his literal claws come out, trying to keep his cool and do those breathing exercises that you had worked on with him.

“Hey, Leonard, was it?” Brett asked, averting his gaze to Logan and the man was close to rocking his shit, you could see it.

“It’s Logan,” you corrected. “I’m all good here, Brett, if you want to head out.”

“Okay, cool,” he nodded and clapped you on the back before weaving his way through the maze of boxes, moving quickly past Logan and fleeing the room, leaving the two of you alone.

You stared him, covering your lips with the tips of your fingers in an attempt to hold back the laugh that was threatening to escape your throat. And Logan was not having it. The night was long and he was just ready to go home, his whiskey that he so desperately wanted, getting watered down by the second.

You stepped forward, pushing the boxes out of the way, moving to stand on front of him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you gave him a warm smile only for him to turn away from you, his signature scowl making its way back upon his face.

Without a word, you grabbed hold of his chin and forced him to look you in the eyes, still trying to hold that smile, desperate to see his own, the one that was specifically for you.

“Smile for me,” you commanded, your voice still soft. He showed you his teeth, but there was no actual smile. “Logan,” you giggled. “Just for me? Please?”

He smiled then, showing you his teeth and you felt your heart swell, knowing that you were the only person who could make him do it. And your heart leapt as you saw it slowly appearing on his face, pulling him into a hug.

“I’m not with Brett, by the way,” you changed the subject rather quickly. “He’s just a friend. More like a brother actually.”

"What?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing and you desperately wanted to smooth them out, to find a way to help his mind stop from reeling.

"I'm not with Brett," you repeated, closing the space between the two of you, reaching up to move a piece of hair that had fallen to his forehead, putting it back in place.

“You say that as if it’s supposed to mean somethin’” he muttered, his signature frown making a reappearance.

“I thought it did," you shrugged. "Because if looks could kill, he’d definitely be dead.”

He just glared at you and you smiled again, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck while his stayed by your side. His hands were itching to hold you and he was trying to fight it off, trying to convince himself that he wasn't so desperately, hopelessly in love with you.

"And it should mean something to you." Your finger poked his chest and he just stared back at you, clearly missing the point of what you were trying to get at.

"Why?" His head tilted to the side like a little puppy and you just sighed, wondered why he wasn't understanding what you were trying to say. Wasn't it obvious? Maybe you were being too vague, but you were sure that you had said everything you could to get your point across except the actual words.

"Because," you rolled your eyes. "Look at the facts, Logan. We both know I get a lot of people asking to take me home every night and I let the grumpy bouncer drive me home. What does that say to you?"

"That you aren't looking for anything." You let out a sigh of frustration and shook your head, making Logan even more nervous. What was it that you needed to tell him and why did you need to say it in the back room of your place of work?

"Oh geez, I guess I'm going to have to spell it out for you, aren't I?" You chuckled nervously and Logan felt his heart pound in his chest as it all finally clicked in his head. Your hands rested on his cheeks and you looked into pretty hazel eyes.

"Logan, I'm in love with you," you said, watching his his widen, his mouth falling open as the six words set in. He just stared at you in response and you were beginning to take that as rejection.

Your arms slipped from his neck and seeing the look on your face was enough to break his heart into a million little pieces. And as he watched you make you way your way out of the back room, he could have sworn that he could see you wiping tears away from your cheeks.

You were leaving. You were leaving and he was just going to let you. You were quickly slipping through his fingers as the seconds passed and he felt sick to his stomach thinking about the possibility of losing you.

So he ran. He ran as fast as he possibly could, following you out to the parking lot where you were heading to your car that you had actually driven there for once. You stopped to pull your keys out of your purse and Logan took the chance to stand in front of you, stopping you from moving.

"Get out of my way," you commanded, but he just stood there, staring you down.

"No," he said firmly. "Not until I'm done speaking. And then you can keep hating me, but I need to get this out, okay?" He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm in love with you," he said. "I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've never felt this way about anyone and honestly didn't think that you reciprocated my feelings, so when you told me that you loved me, I don't know...I just panicked." He was talking a mile a minute and you honestly barely understood him, ut you got the jist.

"So please don't leave," he pleaded his hands finding your waist. "Stay, because I don't know what I'd do with myself if you left."

"You love me?"

"More than you'll ever know, doll," he replied and pulled you into a kiss, neither of you bothered by the loud sound of your keys and purse falling to ground as your arms found their way to his neck once again. "Now let's get out of here."

"But what about the whiskey," you asked against his lips and he just chuckled.

"Just put it on my tab," he replied before pulling you in for another kiss.

You stayed like that until the early morning, kissing and giggling to each other, sitting on the hood of your car to watch the sunset together then heading back to your place for some much needed sleep before talking about how you were going to move forward over coffee and breakfast.

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 2

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: I decided to put this chapter out a bit early due to some Father's Day stuff tomorrow. I was blown away by the response from you guys on Part 1!! Thank you so much. 🥰 I had some trepidation writing a new character, but I'm so glad you guys seem to enjoy where this little series is going so far. It makes me even more excited to bring you the next chapter of ESC! 💜

Song Inspo: “Too Late” by The Paper Kites

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: Shaw family feels, a bit of mystery, tinge of fluff and mutual pining, and a twist…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 2: “Family Reunion”

The next day after he left, you finally managed to get Charlie on the phone. He implored you not to try and find him.

He claimed he was staying with a friend for now, and was picking up some odd jobs through a connection at the museum—another security guard who knew how to get extra work. 

“What kind of extra work?” you asked. You sunk back into the couch in your living room and held a hand to your aching head. You had already lost sleep over this, worrying about where he was and what the hell he was doing.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” Charlie said.

He really knew how to frustrate you to the nth degree.

“Charlie, just come home. Please,” you said. Tears burned in your eyes, choking your words. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

You heard him sigh.

“You had a right to be mad,” he said. “I’m the big brother, remember? But I’m…I’m a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“We take care of each other, and you know that,” you said sharply, wiping at your eyes in frustration.

“Listen, I’ll come home when I can, okay? Be good.”

“Charlie! Ch—” The call ended, and you nearly tossed your phone in aggravation.

“That stubborn fucking idiot,” you muttered.

Four months later, your worry was eating you alive.

Charlie refused to come home or tell you where he was staying. The only time you got to see him was when you visited him on his night shift at the museum. You tried to talk him into coming home, but your brother remained stubborn.

“You get that from Dad,” you’d told him once, while watching him eat some leftover meatloaf you’d made for him. The two of you stood outside the museum on his break.

Charlie had smirked at you. “Yeah, well, you share the disease.”

You’d rolled your eyes at that.

But just when you thought you were starting to get through to him, now, he’d stopped answering your calls. For that matter, the museum hadn’t even seen or heard from him in a week or so.

So here you sat, in the living room of Dory’s apartment, crying into a jar of Nutella that you’d long ago stopped spreading over the strawberries she’d laid out. You had a chocolate-covered butterknife in one hand and a used Kleenex in the other.

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t want necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

You hadn’t had a chance to meet him when he dropped in a couple of months ago, but she’d told you about his brief visit to find a graduate student who had been kidnapped, and nearly killed by a professor in the Sciences department for uncovering a flaw in the man’s research. That flaw would have costed him his entire grant, and possibly his career and reputation. 

The terrible incident had caused an uproar on campus. Students were released from their classes for an entire day after the professor was arrested. 

Now, Dory considered your question with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll call him.”

You were grateful, but your face became pained as something occurred to you. You held up a hand.

“Wait, I just realized I can’t pay him,” you said. You didn’t have more than a thousand dollars in your savings account, and that was for emergencies. Like the time Charlie nearly burned the house down after a lighting mishap with his bong.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that,” Dory said. She laid a comforting hand on your arm. “He’d do this as a favor to me.”

“I don’t know,” you replied, your brows furrowing. “That’s a pretty big favor.”

She’d told you what some of Colter’s fees could run up to, but she tried to quell your reservations and promised to call him regardless.

However, the more you thought about it, you already had a phone number in your cell…for the one person who would understand the part of your brother that you might never be able to. 

After you left Dory’s apartment, you debated the idea in your head for the entire drive home. 

And when you got to the house, you picked up your cell, and you called him. Your nerves had you pacing back and forth across the living room as it rang. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help smiling just at the sound of his voice, smooth and pleased, and a hint surprised.

“Hey,” you replied, biting your lip. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You’ve got good timing too. I just came off a job,” he said.

“Oh really? Where are you?”

“Well, I’m states-side now. Just got back from South America.”

“Oh, wow,” you said, blinking incredulously.

What the hell was he doing there? you had to wonder. Maybe he was protecting some Latin American emissary. Or maybe, he was doing things you didn’t want to think about. Your brother had filled you in a bit about civilian contract jobs in recent weeks, as he’d considered going after those himself.

“They can pay very well, from what I hear,” Charlie had said. “The problem with that is, it kind of defeats the purpose of leaving the military.”

Despite that mildly troubling thought, you tried to focus on the fact that you had this man on the phone at all.

A smile formed across your lips. “Did you get yourself a nice tan?”

“Eh, not really. Was more of a night job,” he said. “But uh…how are you doing? Not gonna lie, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m not all that good, if I’m honest,” you said.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You heard the concern in his voice. You steeled yourself before you answered.

“Russell, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you for a big favor.”

“Hmm, this sounds serious,” he said.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. When you next took a breath, it came out unsteady. “My brother’s missing.”

It was a bright Saturday morning when you welcomed Russell Shaw into your house. He looked around, finding family pictures, bookshelves, paintings, candles, all things that began to shade in who you were in the comfort of your home.

“It’s nice,” he said. “It’s uh, homey.”

You smiled and closed the door behind him.

“Well, it’s the house we grew up in,” you replied.

You and Charlie had of course inherited it after your parents’ passing. Their life insurance policies had helped pay off the three-bedroom house while you two were still in school. Your grandparents helped a lot back then too, and had even moved in for a time. Now they each had plots beside your parents at Grandview Cemetery.

“You want some coffee? I know you had a long drive,” you asked.

“Sure,” Russell agreed. He followed you to the kitchen, where you put on the coffee pot. You made a discreet glance at him. He looked virtually the same, with that familiar green jacket, jeans, boots, and a Jimi Hendrix shirt. You'd had a feeling he was a classic rock guy.

“Look, not that I wasn’t glad to get your call,” Russell said, “but you do know that I’m not the tracker in the family, right?”

“Dory did offer to call Colter, but I can’t afford to pay him,” you said.

“I could help with that,” said Russell. You raised up a hand to stop him there.

“I don’t want that kind of help from you,” you said firmly. “I didn’t call you for money, Russell. I called you because you’ll probably understand where Charlie’s head’s at. Better than me, anyway.”

He hesitated, but nodded in understanding. When the coffeemaker dinged, finished percolating, you turned to make him a mug with cream and sugar, as per his request.

While he waited for the coffee to cool, he admired you for a moment. Even in a plain V-neck shirt and a pair of jeans, your hair swung up in a ponytail, you were still a sight. (Your lipstick did match your shirt though. That made him smile.)

And Russell could admit, it was good to see you again.

“Me and Colter reconnected recently. Did Dory tell you?” he said.

Your brows raised high in surprise. “Oh yeah?”

The two of you found your way back to the living room with your mugs.

“Yeah. We talked for the first time in…shit, over twenty years,” Russell laughed, raking a hand through his hair.

Not only had he been able to say his piece to Colter about their…family issues, they’d also solved a case of their own, with Colter agreeing to help him find his friend Doug, who worked for the same black ops contract agency as Russell. The Horizon Group.

The aftermath of that still left Russell with a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of how Horizon would’ve left Doug to rot, if it hadn’t been for him and Colter pressing their luck and digging deeper into who’d taken his friend.

That whole mess had also made Russell begin to wonder if maybe he needed a new line of work after all. But, because the money was just that good, he’d ended up on a new job by the end of the month.

Your voice soon broke him from his thoughts.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said. You reached over and touched his arm, with warmth in your eyes. 

Russell gave you a smile. The closeness between you brought up memories of that dusty bar, and the taste of lime and tequila on your soft, supple lips. But you subtly cleared your throat and took your hand back. He hid a twinge of disappointment.

“So what’s going on with your brother?” Russell asked.

Get back on track, he reminded himself.

You sighed. “Damn Charlie.”

Over coffee, you explained that Charlie took off a few months ago, the night you got back from the bar. You had seen him only briefly, whenever you were able to catch him at the museum after work. He’d been keeping in touch with you on a weekly basis, but now, he hadn’t called in almost two weeks. You couldn’t get ahold of him on any of the numbers you had. They all seemed to be burner phones. Plus, he’d been let go from his job at the museum after not showing up for the past week. 

“What’s he into, extracurricular-wise?” Russell asked.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me,” you said in frustration. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled. “He said it was safer that way.”

Russell laid a supportive hand over yours, earning your watery gaze.

“And you haven’t gone to the police?” he asked.

“I think he’s gotten into something…dangerous. I don’t want to get him in more trouble than he might be already,” you said. “I just want him to get help for his problems. Physically and mentally.”

Russell nodded. He understood that you wanted to protect your brother. Sometimes though, getting into “trouble” was the rock bottom someone needed in order to face their problems.

“Does he have friends?” he asked. “Some kinda crowd he hangs around with?”

“Not anymore. I think he’s lost touch with his Air Force buddies,” you said, though you tried to think. Your brows furrowed as something occurred to you. “He knew someone at work, at the museum. Another security guard on his same shift. After they cut his hours down to part-time, Charlie said the guy knew how to get extra work.”

“Okay, that’s definitely where we start,” said Russell. “Let me just give Dory a call. If I don’t let her know I’m in town, I don’t even wanna know the consequences.”

You laughed through your tears and tried to brush them away. 

“Yeah, do that. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Russell took one look at you, and he tightened his hold on your hand.

“Hey,” he said.

You glanced up at him, as tears clung to your lashes. His heart couldn’t help but clench for you. He really didn’t like to see you like this.

“We’re gonna find him. You’ve got my word,” he said. 

You were desperate to believe him. So you nodded, sniffling as you tried and failed to keep yourself together. You were scared, for the first time in a long time. 

“All right, come ‘ere,” Russell said. When he guided you into his arms, you went willingly. You pressed your face into his chest to hide your weeping. His hold was warm and strong enough to make you feel secure. Just for this moment, you didn’t have to pretend you had everything handled.

“He’s the only family I have,” you reminded him. He nodded.

“I hear ya. We’ll get him home,” he said. “And I am going to call Colter. Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll square it up with him.”

“Russell—” you protested, but he just squeezed you playfully. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pull big brother rank. He’s got no choice,” he joked. 

You shook your head, but you allowed him to comfort you for a bit longer. Because all too soon, you’d have to steel yourself again. You’d have to be the version of yourself that you always had to be, ever since you were fourteen years old.

You invited Dory over to your house, where the three of you were soon joined by the last of the Shaw siblings: the one you had yet to meet.

Colter made it in time for dinner that afternoon. The tall blonde took up your doorway with his broad shoulders and offered you a polite smile, along with his hand. 

“Hi, I’m Colter,” he said. 

You mentally tripped up a bit as you shook his hand and gave him your name. Did all the Shaw siblings have to be so damn attractive?

“Uh, yes, please come in.” You ushered him into your home and led him into the living room, where Russell stood from the couch. 

“Ahh, there he is,” Russell grinned, slapping his younger brother on the shoulder. 

“Here you are,” Colter gestured at him. “Where the hell did you take off to after last time?”

“Ah, you know. Argentina was fun.”

“I’m sure it was.”

You paused in the doorway, just watching the brothers in mystification. Dory shot you a questioning look as she came over from the kitchen. You met her with raised brows. 

“What?” Dory asked. A smile played on her lips.

“Do all of you have to be so unbelievably pretty?” you whispered over to her. Dory smirked and bumped your shoulder, nodding at Colter. 

“What, you wanna make out with him too?” she teased. 

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. Dory just laughed and moved on to say hello to the other blonde. She pulled him down into a hug, and he reciprocated warmly.  

Russell then laid a hand on Colter’s shoulder, as well as Dory’s. He wore a big, proud grin.

“Hey. Look at us, huh?” he said. 

Dory sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes, looking up at both of her brothers. Colter wore a more reserved smile, but he did wrap an arm around his sister and thump his older brother on the back.

You smiled. You were lingering by the kitchen doorway. If nothing else, you were glad that this whole mess had been able to bring Dory back together with her family. 

You decided to give them a moment, and you wandered back into the kitchen. There you took a beat for yourself, mainly to breathe.  

When you again thought of Charlie, you had to wonder just what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

Later, the four of you sat in the living room so you could explain everything you knew so far to Colter. He took all the information in with a pensive expression that didn’t reveal much to you. 

“So you said he was struggling?” he said. 

“Yes, after he got out of the military,” you confessed. “He had a hard time figuring himself out. I got him the job at the museum, but I don’t think it was enough for him.”

“Why is that?” Colter asked. He saw that you were reluctant to explain. “I need to know the full picture of who Charlie is if I’m going to be able to figure out his probable moves.”

You sighed. “Well, he was seeing a VA psychiatrist for a while. They wanted to put him on antidepressants, but he stopped going. He…started self-medicating instead.”

That part was hard to admit, but it was the truth. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t any longer. 

“What substances?” Colter asked. 

“Alcohol, mainly,” you replied. “At his worst, there were hard drugs, but I got him to tone it down just to weed every now and then.”

You bit at your thumbnail out of habit, but you forced yourself to stop, folding your hands in your lap. You didn’t see judgment in Colter’s eyes, just him taking in the information. You couldn’t help but glance at Dory, where you found her sympathy. She knew enough about what you’d been dealing with for the past few years. Russell seemed understanding as well. 

“Anything else I should know?” Colter asked. You shook your head. You felt bad about revealing Charlie’s business like this, but you knew it was the only way to help him. Still, you felt you had to defend him a little.

“Look, my brother has his problems, but he’s a good man,” you said. “He, um…he basically half raised me, after our parents died.”

Dory also knew this story. She rested a hand on your back, and you gave her what smile you could. 

“How old were you?” Russell asked. He earned your attention, and you met his sympathetic gaze.

“Fourteen,” you answered. “It was a car accident.”

He took that in, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry.”

The way he met your eyes when he said it, you believed him. You subtly cleared your throat and directed the conversation back.   

“So, I don’t have a lot of money. But I can give you something for your services,” you said to Colter. Both Russell and Dory met you with similar looks. 

“I’ve got it,” Dory says, before Russell had the chance. Colter waved her off though.

“In this case, it’s not necessary,” he said, focusing on you again. “So Charlie was working at the local museum?”

You breathed a note of relief at his generosity. Dory, Russell, and now Colter…they were all good people in their own way. You felt emotion rise in your throat.

“Yes, it’s about ten minutes away,” you managed to reply. “It’s closed now, but his coworker could be on shift. They always have security in place.”

You grabbed your purse to go with them when Colter and Russell stood, but the former raised a placating hand. 

“It’s best if you stayed here,” Colter said.

Your brows rose. “I don’t think so.”

Colter’s mouth parted, and he blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to push back quite like that; calm and matter of fact.

“Ah, well, it’s really for your safety—”

“I’m not going to sit and wait,” you said. “That’s all I’ve been doing for months. I may not be an expert tracker, or have been in the army, but I do know my brother. And we are going to find him.”

Behind you, Dory was giving Colter a warning shake of her head. She knew just how stubborn you could be. Meanwhile, Russell came up on your other side with a smile.

“What’s the harm in her coming along to the museum?” he said, sliding his brother a teasing look. “Unless the T. rex wakes up all the mummies, Ben Stiller style.”

You wanted to point out that that wasn’t exactly the plot of Night at the Museum, but you held it in with a smile. You gave Colter an expectant look.

He sighed at Russell’s antics, but he turned to you with a nod.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said. 

“I’ll head home then,” said Dory. “Call me if you need anything.” 

You gave her a hug after she gathered up her purse. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, rubbing your back. “Colter’s the best.” 

“All right, fine. And what am I? Chopped liver?” Russell remarked, gesturing wide with his hands. You all filtered out of your house, and you locked the door behind you.  

“Oh, you’re special, all right,” Dory quipped back, but she gave her eldest brother a warm hug as well, then patted Colter on the arm before she left.

Russell shot Colter a playful smirk. “I got the hug.”

Colter rolled his eyes and pointed over to his big pickup truck. 

“Just get in the car, please.”

You had to smile at all their sibling teasing. It reminded you of how you and Charlie used to cut up, when things were good. On your way down the driveway, you hesitated by the Chevy Chevelle parked next to your own car. She was still black and sleek and beautiful.

You happened to glance up, and there was Russell, getting into his brother’s pickup. He winked at you across the driveway. You turned your face to hide your smile (and your blush) as you climbed into your car.

Colter noted the exchange when he buckled up into the driver’s seat. He watched Russell do the same on the passenger side, all while wearing a certain smile on his face. When he noticed how Colter was looking at him, his brows raised.

“What?” said Russell.

“What was that?” Colter asked.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right,” Colter chuckled. He began to pull the car out of the driveway after you in your car, so he could follow you. “What, do you two have a thing or something? Is that why she called you before me?”

Russell shrugged, but his smile was telling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhmm. Convincing,” Colter said, but his lips tugged upward as well. His good humor diminished though, when he considered the last time he saw his brother. “How’s the arm?”

Russell gave a thumbs up with his left arm—the one that previously had a bullet run through it. It was still healing, even now.

“It’s good,” he said.

“Did you see a doctor?”

“Sure did.”

Riiiight. Another thing Colter wasn’t sure was the truth, but he’d give Russell that one.

“And that unfinished business?” Colter asked.

Russell’s smile faded, but he nodded. “Finished.”

After a moment, Colter nodded as well. 

“Okay,” he said. 

Something occured to him then. He paused, and he reached into his pocket. He held up a small, closed pocketknife with a wooden handle, and he gave it back to Russell. It had the man's name carved on the side.

Russell's smile returned as he flipped the old keepsake through his fingers.

"Thanks for keeping it safe for me," he said.

Colter smiled back. "Thanks for trusting me with it."

Colter parked next to you at the museum. It was closed, but the security guard, Jimmy, did know your brother. 

“I haven’t seen Charlie since he quit last week,” Jimmy claimed.

“He quit?” you said. “They told me he just never came back.”

“Yeah, well, same thing,” he said.

The front doors of the museum opened, and out came Dr. Feinman, your former boss, and the Head Manager. You left Jimmy’s questioning up to Russell and Colter with a meaningful look, and you went to intercept Feinman.

“Hi, sir, how’re you doing?” you asked. Your name fell from his lips in surprise. 

“My dear, it’s good to see you, but why are you here after hours?” he asked, his British accent lilting.

“I’m trying to find Charlie. He’s been missing, well, officially for about a week,” you said. “I was actually surprised to see you here so late.”

The man cleared his throat. He smoothed a hand over his tie and suit jacket.

“Yes, well, we could’ve used Charlie’s help. We’ve had to double our security efforts,” he said. “We’re currently dealing with a sensitive issue, so the museum will be closed until it is resolved.”

“You’re doubling your security efforts… Was something stolen?” you asked. 

Feinman clearly didn’t want to tell you this, but you knew you’d hit the nail on the head by the look on his face.

“Please, keep that information to yourself,” he said. 

“What was stolen?” you asked in concern. 

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information. Not even for you, dear,” he said. “I do hope you find your brother though.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that, and as a matter of fact,” you began, but Feinman waved an apologetic hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m in a terrible rush just now. But call my office tomorrow and Brenda will help you with whatever you may need,” he said. “Good evening.”

“Wait, Dr. Feinman,” you tried, but he was already breezing past you and heading toward his Mercedes in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, Colter and Russell weren’t having much better luck with Jimmy. 

“Look, I really don’t know where Charlie is,” he said. “Haven’t seen or heard from him since he took off.”

“He said you connected him with someone who could give him some work on the sly,” Russell said, leveling a hand at the man’s chest. “Who did you connect him with, and what kind of work are we talking?”

Jimmy blew out a breath, like this was really inconveniencing his day. (Or night, at this point.)

“What, you’ve got somewhere to be?” Colter said. “You’re getting paid to stand right here, and we have no problem sharing your shift all night. You might as well just tell us what we want to know.”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance.

“All right,” he snapped. “I hooked him up with this guy I knew through a mutual acquaintance, who just needed some muscle. I guess you could call it private security.”

“A mutual acquaintance?” Colter repeated. 

“What’re you, James Bond? Who did you connect him with?” Russell pressed.

Jimmy was reluctant to talk. You came back over to join them, and the security guard became even more tight-lipped.

“You guys should go. I don’t have to talk to you, and I’ve got a job to do,” he said.

When he tried to continue his patrol around the museum, you stepped deliberately in his way. You didn’t have the patience for this, and you would no longer be a doormat, letting the Goldsteins and the Feinmans of this world push past you.

“Look, Jimmy, if you don’t give us something we can go on to find my brother, you know where I’m going to go?” you asked. But you spoke before he could respond. “To the police. And your name is the only one I have to give them. Now, if you don’t want that to be you, then give me a different name.”

Jimmy looked down at you, and then over at your intimidating shadows, Russell and Colter. Jimmy sighed.

“Eddie,” he gave, finally.

Russell raised his hands, as if to say, Is that it?

“What, Eddie Vedder? Eddie who? Come on,” Russell said.

“Eddie Mendez,” Jimmy replied in a lowered voice. “I don’t know where he lives. I don’t have his number. And that 'mutual acquaintance' is doing some time in lockup. But Eddie hangs out at a bar called Howley’s.”

You and Russell shared a meaningful look at that. You turned back to Jimmy. 

“Okay. What was stolen here at the museum?” you said. “That’s why it’s been closed, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said. “I wasn’t on shift, and Dr. Feinman keeps a tight lid on that kind of thing.”

“We’ll need to get into his office then,” Colter said. 

You blinked wider at Colter. Wait, was he really suggesting you guys break into the museum?

Jimmy pointed to the black device attached to the ceiling above them. 

“See the cameras?” he said. “That's not happening on my dime.”

Colter looked up, and he saw the cameras strategically installed across the front of the museum. 

“Then take us where the cameras don’t see,” he said.

You, Colter, and Russell were able to break into the museum via a storage unit door, thanks to Jimmy’s texted instructions. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, but it was for Charlie, you reminded yourself.

You remembered where to find Feinman’s office. You paid for a lot of your undergrad expenses, namely your books and tuition, by working full-time as an office assistant here, and the occasional tour guide. 

You led them to the room where the inventory records were kept. Colter gave you his gloves so you didn’t leave prints, and you were able to pinpoint what was labelled as missing from the latest shipment. 

“Oh great,” you muttered. 

“What was taken?” Colter asked.

“A collection of Native American weapons. Dated almost eight hundred years old,” you said, shaking your head. “The collection is valued at $1.5 million dollars.”

Russell and Colter shared a look. 

“That’s some big motive,” Russell said. 

“When did they go missing?” Colter asked. 

“Almost two weeks ago,” you said. Your brows furrowed the more you read, as you realized something. “Just a few days before Charlie left the museum…” 

The timing wasn’t lost on anyone. But if Charlie was a suspect, Feinman hadn’t let on to that at all. You checked the exact date the artifacts went missing again: a Tuesday night. Charlie didn’t typically work on Mondays or Tuesdays, you realized. And he’d left after the artifacts went missing. So maybe they hadn’t thought to question him yet. One small blessing.  

You sighed. With that information gathered, the three of you put back everything you uncovered and left the building the same way you came in. Jimmy was nowhere in sight, probably patrolling the other end of the museum on purpose.

When you all made it back to the parking lot, you turned to Colter and Russell.

“Okay, what’s next?” you asked. “Howley’s right? To find Eddie.”

“Actually, I think it’s best Russell and I take it from here,” Colter said. “We don’t know what kind of character Eddie Mendez is, but from how reluctant Jimmy was to tell us, it doesn’t sound good.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Russell drew closer and touched your arm. You could see in his face that he agreed with his brother, even though he hadn’t said anything yet.

“Look, you’ve been a huge help,” he said. “But let us work on this, okay? We’ll call you when we find something.”

Still, your lips pursed. “Russell, he’s my brother.”

“I know. Punching out drunks is one thing, but this might be a little different,” he said, grasping your arms gently. “Will you give me some peace of mind, knowing you’re home safe?”

He brushed one of his thumbs along your skin. Already you had goosebumps. From the cold chill on the air, or from him, you weren’t sure. But that simple touch, along with his earnest, imploring gaze broke you down.

“All right. I get it. I’m not the Special Ops guy,” you said. “But call me afterward so I know how it went.”

“Okay, will do,” Russell agreed. He let you go so you could go to your car. You shot the brothers one last look before you climbed in and peeled out of the parking lot.

Russell expelled a sigh of relief. He got into the passenger side of his brother’s pickup while Colter started it up.

Thanks to the late hour, and how little traffic there was on the road, it didn’t take you long to get home.

You’d debated whether you should just go to Howley’s anyway, but you didn’t want to get in the way, or make Russell worry for that matter. You smiled, despite yourself.

His touch had tingled across your arms, and whenever he absently laid a hand on the small of your back, supportive or guiding.

Thinking about him just made your heart ache. Because after this was over, he’d be gone again—on a new mysterious job, perhaps on the other side of the world.

You’d been regretting how you left things with him at the bar for months, but now you were glad you hadn’t gone any further with him that night. Your heart was too easily ensnared, it seemed, and Russell didn’t seem to be a “strings attached” kind of guy.

When you parked in front of your house, you let out a tense breath. Russell and Colter would find Charlie. You believed in them. You just hoped your brother was all right, wherever he was.

You pulled your cell out of your purse to call Dory as you headed for the front door. You wanted to give her an update and let her know that you were back at home.

The call began to ring just as you slipped your key into the lock. Unfortunately, you never got a chance to open it.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and yanked you back, and a firm hand over your mouth smothered your scream.

AN: 🫣 *Whispers* Sorryyy. But hey! What did you think of the reader's reunion with Russell, as well as the little Shaw Family Reunion? Plus, we got a bit of the reader working with Russell and Colter on the case.

Now, the real timer starts...

Next Time:

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement. 

“No…” 

That voice was all too familiar. 

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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[cranberryjuice-posts]

Before I get too mean

Pairings - clarisse x femme! Reader

Synopsis- you need closure, clarisse needs a good reason to fuck around

An: THERES NO SMUT JUST MAKING OUT😭🙏

For months now all you’ve been trying to do was get over clarisse. After you two had a big argument over something stupid and a dramatic breakup you done everything. You’ve madeout with other girls you’ve flirted around and even flashed someone but nothing compared.

Clarisse on the other hand Didn’t give two shits. She saw you fucking around with other campers but she knew none of them were better than her.

And you knew exactly what you were doing tonight, purposely wearing a tanktop that showed off your cleavage and a pair of sweats that showcased your hips and ass— you knew exactly what to do to get clarisses attention and you also knew how to get her riled up by flirting with one of her sisters. You figured messing around with clarisse one last time will finally give you the closure you wanted.

That’s why it wasn’t a suprise when you were in the ares cabin with clarisse pushed up against the wall and her hands tracing your hips and ass while you two kissed. She started to kiss down your neck eventually leaving hickeys.

“Ah!~ Lise stop” you whined and pushed her head away. “I fucking said no marks”

Clarisse Just rolled her eyes “You Wanna make-out but you don’t want me to leave hickeys, you wanna flirt with my sister and get me mad but don’t want me to react, you want me to kiss you like your my girlfriend but you don’t want me to say shit to you” she sarcastically spoke “at this point just ask to get together”

You just scoffed “as if we broke up because your an entitled bitch”

“Boohoo suddenly its a crime for a woman to have a personality” clarisse grinned before grabbing your face pulling you in not letting you respond.

Standing on your tippy toes and creasing your shoes in the process, you continued to kiss your ex girlfriend.

Once again clarisse started to kiss your neck trying to leave hickeys but this time you didn’t care and just let her. You grabbed a handful of her curls and tugged them knowing it would piss clarisse off because of the knots it made.

She groaned and bit you. “Ow! You shit”

“Don’t tug my hair”

“Don’t leave hickeys!”

Clarisse Just grunted and started to suck on your neck just to prove a point to you. “Just because your pissed doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me”

“Yeah Well im out of sympathy for you” you panted still messing up her hair.

—

Still pressed against the wall clarisse started to pepper kisses on your cheek while you played with her necklace.

“Maybe you should leave” Clarisse muttered “before you get mean and fuck shit up again by taking it out on me”

You giggled. “Yeah well your angry ass needs someone equally as toxic to keep you in line”

“Mmhmm maybe you should have left when silena Said i was bad news, that’s why your so broken hearted” clarisse continued to make her way down to your neck and top of your chest.

You closed your eyes and tucked some hair behind clarisses ear.

The moment was ruined however when some ares kids started to bang on the door. “Clarisse what the fuck let us in!” One shouted as the door was locked. You jumped at the noise and yelped as clarisse shoved you aside.

“Bitch”

“Just sneak out the window damn” she sighed and rubbed her lips that had your lipstick on it. She watched as you started to sneak out- before you shut the window clarisse whistled gaining your attention. “Keep it open and sneak in again tonight” she grinned and you rolled your eyes.

——

You: *sneaks in like clarisse asked*

Some ares kid who woke up from the sound of the door: “if your sneaking in to hook up with one of my siblings atleast take your shoes off and keep quiet”

——

Clarisse: *leaning on the bathroom sink watching you try to cover the hickeys she left*

You: your a fucking psycho these look like you tried sucking my soul out

Clarisse: yeah but you love me

——

Clarisse: *making-out with you with you sitting on her waist*

Clarisse: Let’s get back together

You: fuck you

Clarisse: so yes then

——

[jessmaybank]

Right here - Rafe Cameron

Based on the song Right here by Chase Atlantic

Outer banks x chase atlantic masterlist

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Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Reader

Word count: 7.4k

Summary: in which a secret friends with benefits relationship gets messy.

Warnings: drug use (weed), swearing, SMUT, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, nipple play, oral (f receiving).

AN: lots of mutual pining, teasing, jealousy & angst. friends to lovers. This is easily my fave thing I’ve ever written. Flashbacks are in italics, enjoy!

I'm so far from the line, yeah

I'm too deep in my mind, yeah

If she calls, I'll be right there

That's three calls in a night, yeah

“Hey” she says quietly, phone pressed to her ear as she answers his call in the middle of the night, something she still hadn’t quite grown accustomed too yet. her voice sounded so delicate and sweet, it made Rafe’s head rush.

This was the third call she had received from him this week, and it always ended the same. Each time she would tell herself that it was the last, but here she was, tangled within her lilac sheets, unable to let the call go to voicemail. She always seemed to bend her rules when it came to him.

“Hey. Did I wake you up?” He asks, voice tainted with something that sounded like concern, but she wasn’t quite sure. Rafe wasn’t exactly known for his ability to emphasise with others. Rather, his actions were always driven by his own selfish wants and needs, and he was extremely stubborn. That was was something which she learnt the day their arrangement started.

“Rafe, I swear to god, move. I shotgunned the couch” she said, arms crossed as her lips move into a small pout, her doe eyes hard to miss.

Rafe thought the expression was nothing less than adorable, observing the way her eyebrows were furrowed slightly to be more convincing, hoping to get some sympathy out of him. But despite the frown on her face, he knew she was biting back a smile. She liked being teased just as much as he liked teasing her.

The corners of his mouth upturned into an amused grin, something which should of annoyed her further, but it didn’t. Instead, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from matching his expression.

They were at toppers house, in the midst of a party which had just began to die down, the crowds of young adults sprawled around the large living room getting smaller by the minute. She had no intention of going home anytime soon, and neither did he.

“Not anymore, angel” he says, manspreading on the couch to get comfortable, but also just as a way to tease her further. But once again, the familiar nickname he picked for her, and only her, made it near impossible for her to be mad at him.

They had been friends for a long time now, so in theory she should have been used to it, but she just wasn’t. Every time the word left his cherry red lips, she felt like a giddy teenager again.

She sighs in defeat, tugging on one of the loose threads of his hoodie which he gave her, one of the many endearing gestures which made all the constant teasing seemingly tolerable.

“Stop being greedy and just sit next to me” he says, patting the empty space next to him. His shiny gold rings that decorated his fingers were a stark contrast to the dim light which began to engulf the room as it grew later into the night, and she began to wonder how one mans hands could be so attractive.

Maybe she was being greedy for wanting the whole couch to herself, but she was not about to be criticised by Rafe Cameron himself. He was quite literally the epitome of greed, even if she failed to recognise that sometimes, her delusion towards him a symbol of her naive nature.

She pretended to hesitate before sitting down on the couch next to him, the smell of her sweet perfume invading his senses, throwing him off track. She was the only person who could make his nonchalant nature falter so easy, and the feeling was so unfamiliar to him he almost felt uneasy whenever she was near.

Every time Topper threw a party, she had an end-of-night tradition. She would sprawl across the expensive couch with a blanket, smoke the pre-rolled joint she would bring with her every time, and slowly become one which the couch, her body melting into the white leather. Luckily, Toppers parents were gone for the week this time, so she had permission to smoke inside.

She turned her body, leaning her back against the armrest of the couch, before draping her legs over Rafe’s lap. They weren’t exactly used to such affections at this stage in their relationship, but she was a bit tipsy, and she certainly wasn’t going to let him stop her from getting comfy.

Her squeaky clean converse dug into his thigh a little, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sent her a glare, and he prayed he put on a good enough of a show to convince her it was real.

“What? I warned you” she said, shifting slightly to retrieve the blanket which was hung on the back of the couch, throwing it over them both.

Rafe placed his hands under the blanket and rested them on her legs, just below her knees, the evening breeze coming through the windows seemingly prevalent. He was a bit cold in his t-shirt, but he would never dare to ask for his hoodie back. He noted how warm she felt as his fingers brushed the bare skin of her legs, and suddenly he wanted to bury his head between them.

She dug her dainty hands into the pocket of his hoodie, retrieving a slightly crumpled joint and a dodgy lighter. Her manicured pink nails made her hands look so fragile, and Rafe couldn’t fathom how one girls hands could be so fucking cute.

She lights the joint, the flame lighting up her face in an orange tint, the warm hue painted over her features a perfect picture to him. He watched as she inhaled and exhaled again and again, and it dawned on him then that he could watch her do anything, and he would never get bored.

“Sharing is caring, angel” he says, placing his hand out in front of her. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress the small grin which graced her lips, her sweetness practically radiating off her as she passed him the joint, captivated in the way he inhaled before blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the living room, blurring their vision slightly.

Weed always made Rafe a little more touchy than usual. When he’s sober, his anxiety is always apparent in his tensed muscles or his clenched jaw, or the way he always runs his hands through his hair when he’s stressed out. But as soon as marijuana was flowing through him, his mind relaxed, and so did his body.

he’s pretty dazed by the time he passes the joint back. He digs his hands under the blanket once again, running the tips of his fingers innocently across her thighs, relishing in her smooth skin. but the feeling it caused her was anything but innocent.

“Do you mind?” She says, her voice betraying her as it came out shaky. He turned his head, and when she saw the mischievous glint which lay behind his bloodshot eyes, she knew she was in trouble.

He had to poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue to suppress a grin. He thought her flustered state was completely endearing, and he loved knowing the effect he had on her. “Am I distracting you, angel?”

“No” yes.

She hoped she was convincing, but he could see right through her, mostly as he observed the way she drew in a sharp breath as his hands travelled further and further up her leg, her skin tingling at his touch.

“You see, I don’t believe you” he smirks, shifting towards her, his hand stopping right at the hem of her denim mini skirt, fingers dipping under the material ever so slightly, as if he was daring himself to go even further.

“Rafe” she whispers. fuck. His name had never sounded so pretty until it came out of her mouth.

She took another hit of the joint, trying to distract herself from his dirty little games. But the higher she got, the more she melted into his touch.

She sent him a half-hearted pleading look, one which should of convinced him to back away, but unfortunately for her, he could read her like his favourite book, and the way her legs squirmed on top of him, parting ever so slightly, gave him all the confirmation he needed.

His fingers dipped under her skirt, the cold metal of his rings grazing the top of her thigh, cooling down her burning skin. She looked around, making sure no one was paying attention, and relaxed a little when she noticed everyone left was either passed out or too engrossed in conversation to notice either of them.

His lips parted as he made contact with her clothed pussy, coming to the realisation her lace underwear was soaked. His shorts tightened as his cock grew rock hard, and he prayed she couldn’t feel it under her legs, but of course she could.

Her legs squirmed once again as he started toying with her clothed clit, her calf’s rubbing right against his cock, and he swore she was hell-bent on torturing him.

Her eyes fluttered shut as his hand dove into her underwear, running his fingers up her folds, almost groaning as he felt her arousal. The heavy pants coming from her glossy lips were drowned out by the music which played from toppers speaker, and suddenly Rafe wished the room was silent.

The joint fell from her fingers and onto the blanket as he inserted two fingers inside of her, the pit of her stomach heating up as pleasure flows through her, sinking her body further into the couch.

He retrieved the joint with his free hand before it burnt a hole in the blanket, taking a hit before putting the roach into the ash tray next to him. She was shocked at how nonchalant he looked, pretending as if his fingers weren’t inside of her as they sat in a room with all of their friends, at risk of being caught at any moment.

He began to pump his fingers in and out of her, in awe of the way she struggled to keep her eyes open, the bloodshot whites in her eyes making her look even more fucked out. He draped his free arm on the back of the couch as he continued to finger fuck her with his other, and when their eyes met, electricity shot down her spine, entranced by his blown out pupils.

she lifted the blanket to cover her mouth as moans threatened to spill out of her, her legs now spread for him underneath the soft material. He didn’t care that they weren’t alone, he didn’t like the fact she wanted to hide her face from him.

He shakes his head slightly, tutting as he brings his free arm down, pulling the blanket from her face before cupping her jaw. “Let me see you” he said, his voice steady. And as she bit her lip to suppress a whimper, pussy clenching around his fingers, he knew he was in trouble.

“No, I can’t seem to sleep” she says, voice quiet through the phone, but he heard her clearly.

“I’ve been thinking about you today. Can you come over?” he says, and her eyes shut in defeat.

He would always do this, call her up and sweet talk her into coming over so they could fuck. Rafe never gave any of his feelings away, living up to his fuck boy reputation, and so everytime she would leave his house, thinking she was nothing but a warm body to him, she swore to herself she would never let him pull at her heartstrings like that again.

But just like him, her lack of self control betrayed her every time.

She takes a while to respond, and Rafe had to question if he managed to fuck everything up in a 2 minute phone call.

“I’ll be there in 10” she says, her voice sweet like honey, and finally he felt like he could breathe again.

Well girl, what do you think about

Staying right here in bed?

I didn't hear a word you said

I wasn't that high, I swear

Her eyes drifted open at around 8am, the morning sun making her wince as she tries to focus her vision, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Her movements come to a halt as she feels the weight of someone pressed up behind her, arm draped over her waist and head buried behind her neck.

Her eyes widen slightly as she turns so she’s almost on her back, observing how at peace Rafe looked as he was cuddled up to her, his chest rising and falling every few seconds, the sounds of his breathing relaxing her somewhat.

She must of passed out before she had the chance to leave last night, which happened sometimes whenever they were together super late. Sometimes, by the time Rafe was done with her, she would actually struggle to move, exhaustion overtaking her limp body.

But this was the first time they woke up like this. Usually, she would stick to her side of the bed, and he would stick to hers, abiding by Rafe’s stupid rule of no cuddling, as if it would somehow cure his growing infatuation for her.

He was not a relationship person, and that was something she definitely learnt the hard way. Growing up in the household that be did, Rafe had always struggled with letting people in. His father had made it impossible for him to trust, and whenever he got close, he would bolt, too scared to let himself feel anything.

For some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to let go of her. So instead, he made a bunch of stupid rules, in the hopes that it would stop him falling too deep.

Peering up at him with tired eyes, she came to the realisation that she would let him do anything to her as long as it meant he was this close. She would let him walk all over her, whatever way he wanted, if it meant she could stay in bed, like this, with him, just for a little longer.

She almost jumped out of her skin as Rose called for Rafe from downstairs, and the moment she could see his eyes battling to open beneath his eyelids, she turned back around, pretending to be asleep.

he shifted behind her as his eyes fluttered open, adjusting to his surroundings. He mentally cursed his lack of self control as he observed the position he was in, but surprisingly, he didn’t move.

Instead, he ran his fingers through a lock of her hair, the sweet smell of her strawberry shampoo making him second guess every single decision he’s ever made. He trailed his fingers all the way down to the curves of her bare hips, before planting a sweet kiss on the back of her head. It took everything in her to remain still, to suppress a bright smile, but she did, ignoring the shiver that ran down her spine at his sweet affections.

Rose called for him again, and he rolled his eyes, but he still just couldn’t bring himself to move. He trailed his eyes to last nights hickeys that were littered across her neck and shoulder, and he realised then that maybe, just maybe, he would bend his rules, if it meant he could stay in bed, like this, with her, just for a little longer.

It's happening again

Well, I don't give a fuck about your friends

I'm right here

Oh, baby, take a look around

I'm the only one that hasn't walked out

I'm right here

His eyes spotted her as soon as she entered his house, seemingly uninterested in the party around him. She looked good, too good, as he observed her appearance. Her summer dress painted her figure in the most delectable way, and her glossy lips looked so succulent he had to hold himself back from kissing her when she sat down next to him.

“You look happy” she says, sarcasm dripping off her tongue as she speaks. The amusing look on her face subsided as she noticed the way he licked his red lips, his blue orbs filled with something she couldn’t place.

She lent back, still facing him, almost touching his arm that was draped over the back of the couch, his fingers close to her shoulder. It took everything in him not to run his fingers along her soft skin, a deep craving to trail his fingers over the freckles littered on her shoulder, and he had to question wether he was starting to go insane.

“You didn’t answer yesterday” he says, taking a swig of his bottle of whiskey, a usual favourite for him.

Is that why he looked so glum? It couldn’t be, it’s Rafe we’re talking about here. So then why did he look so doleful? She was burning to know, but she knew better than to pry when it came to him. So, she tried to comfort him in the only way she knew he would let him.

“Can I make it up to you?” She says sweetly, and that caught his attention instantly, head turning to face her. Her doe eyes were glistening with desire, her organs pumping with adrenaline, and she swore she saw his features soften.

Her sinful thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder, and she caught the way that Rafe’s jaw clenched at something behind her before she turned around, revealing some touron she met at party a couple weeks ago. If she was being honest, she didn’t even remember his name, but she didn’t have the heart to be rude.

And just like that, she was ripped away from him, the missing warmth from her beside him making his insides twist in the worst way possible as he watched her disappear into the crowd, muscles tensing as he paid attention to how her hands were intertwined with his. Is that why she didn’t answer yesterday? Was she with him? His blood ran cold at the thought, his face contorting with disappointment as he ran a hand through his hair, taking an extra big sip of his whiskey.

He then focused his dull gaze on the empty seat beside him, and before he knew it, time started to slow.

They both sat naked in his living room, her heart racing as she straddled him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. The sweetness of her cherry lip gloss drowned his tongue as he hummed into her mouth, her insides tingling at the sweet sound as their lips moved together in a passionate kiss.

She realised then that she loved every single sound he made. Even if it was a rude remark, which wasn’t exactly uncommon with Rafe, at least it was something. At least she got to hear him.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you” he mumbled into her mouth, fingers entwined in her messy hair. His voice was low and quiet, but the words pierced through her heart as if he shouted it at the top of his lungs.

She noticed that he would only say nice things to her when they were fucking, and although she didn’t complain in the moment, she always felt uneasy afterwards, his empty words lingering in her mind.

“Yeah?” God. Her voice sounded so weak and fragile, she wished she could just lay on the floor and let the ground swallow her hole. Maybe then, her conflicting thoughts would finally subside.

But Fuck, he loved when she was nervous because of him. Her shaky voice made his lips curl up into a smirk, pushing her hips down in line with his cock, watching her lidded eyes as she pushed herself down onto him, stretching her out and taking him whole.

“Your so fucking beautiful, angel” he moaned, not being able to stop his thoughts whilst he was inside her. In fact, he never could. Whenever they had sex, he would just speak his mind freely, not being able to hold back.

Her moans were full of sin as she began to bounce on his cock, digging her pink nails into his shoulders and throwing her head back in pleasure. He took the opportunity to wrap a hand round her neck, squeezing just the right amount, making sure he didn’t hurt her too much. He brought his other hand up to play with her nipple, pinching on the sensitive skin, and she jerked on top of him, making him smirk.

“Fucking addictive” he mumbles, letting go of her neck and gripping her hair instead, pulling her head forward to look him right in the eyes.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean” she says, clawing her nails down his bare chest, leaving little red marks to replace the old faded ones.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and pushing her against the couch, her back sinking into the soft material. “Oh, I mean it”

Her eyes screw shut as he pounds into her, her breathing increasingly unorganised as his nails dug into her hips. His forehead glistened with a thin layer of sweat, his hair sticking to it, and he had to bite back a smile as he saw how fucked out she was beneath him, her cheeks stained with a faint redness.

“I hate you” she says, a sincere look on her face. And if he didn’t feel her pussy clenching around him in that moment, he might of believed her.

“Earth to Rafe” Topper says, waving his hand in front of his face, and he snapped back to reality.

“Jesus man, what’s gotten into you”

He shrugs in response, an unamused look on his face. “You playing?” Topper asks, turning his head towards the circle of people sat in the middle of the room. Rafe follows toppers line of vision, and his jaw clenches. Usually, he doesn’t indulge in party games, but as soon as he saw her sat in the circle, he was making his way over.

She sat with her best friend, Tara, laughing and giggling as she sips on her vodka soda. He sat down opposite her, their eyes meeting, and suddenly it was like they were the only two people in the room.

“Rafe looks good tonight, doesn’t he” Tara says, a small smile painting her features, snapping her out of her daze. No one knew about their arrangement, and so she didn’t really have a right to be mad, but she couldn’t deny the way her heart sank at her friends words.

“I guess” she says, doing her best to mask her jealousy with a bored look, but it didn’t really work.

The games started off innocent, a few harmless truths and dares, but as always, it turned sexual very quickly. Topper was always the one to blame for that.

“Okay, this round is 7 minutes in heaven. You know the rules, if the bottle lands on you, you have to spend 7 minutes locked in a room with whoever it lands on next. No backing out” Kelce says, and her heart began to beat a little faster.

Kelce lent forward, gripping the glass beer bottle and giving it a spin. Rafe looked across at her, observing how her eyes were glued to the bottle as it span, and he hoped to god he wasn’t going to have to watch her go into a room with somebody else.

His thoughts were interrupted as their eyes connected, and confusion filled him as he took notice of her wide eyes. He looked down, and when he realised the bottle was pointed at him, it was like all the colour drained from his face.

People began to cheer around them, topper leaning over to pat his back, but she couldn’t do anything but sit, completely frozen. Kelce then span the bottle again, and her heart sank to her feet as it landed on Tara.

Tara giggled as she stood up, smoothing out her dress with her hands, but Rafe didn’t move, clearly hesitant. He tried to ignore the alcohol induced encouragement from everyone around them, and she had a sliver of hope that maybe he wouldn’t do it.

But when she saw him stand up and begin to lead her best friend into one of the downstairs bedrooms, it was like a dagger straight through the heart. She sat there for a minute or two, in her own world as she pinched herself, over and over again, to stop the tears which threatened to spill out of her.

She made her way outside, pushing through the back doors of the house and into the empty garden, the evening breeze giving her goosebumps. She knew she only had herself to blame, he told her what it was from the start and she didn’t listen, but that didn’t make the pain any easier.

She sat down on the stairs of the outside decking, arms crossed as she rubs her arms, trying to warm herself up. She heard some commotion from inside, and turned her head to see through the glass doors.

Everyone cheered as Rafe and Tara made their way out into the living room, and she struggled to breathe as she observed the way Tara pulled her dress down and fixed her hair, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what went on.

Rafe’s heart sank as he returned, scanning around the room to find she was no where to be seen. His gaze landed on her figure outside, and he didn’t hesitate to make his way to her, ignoring the confused looks from Topper and Kelce as he walked straight passed them.

She didn’t have to guess who it was as she heard the door open, and she shot up, walking towards the pool, not wanting to speak to him just yet.

“Where are you running off to?” He says, a quizzical look on his face as he follows her down the garden, shoving his arms in his pockets.

“My best friend, Rafe, really?” She says, sass laced within her voice as she runs a hand through her hair, halting her movements as she stands right in front of the pool, the moonlight reflecting in the water ever so slightly.

“Nothing happened” he replied, and although he knew she would never believe it, he was telling the truth.

Yes, it’s true, Rafe may be known for having a wandering eye, but as Tara sat on the bed, trying her best to seduce him, he just knew no one could ever compare to her.

“Bullshit”

She scoffs at him, her features contorting with anger as she stares at the water ahead, knowing the second she looks at him, she would give in. “I know that we’re just friends” she starts, ignoring the despair in the pit of her stomach as she cringes at her own words.

“But friends don’t disrespect each other. And believe it or not Rafe, fucking my friends falls under that category” she shouts, her voice raised as she now turns to face him.

“I don’t give a fuck about your friends, okay. I’m right here with you, am I not?” He replies back, his frustration evident in his tone.

He wished she believed him. He wished she knew that sometimes, he couldn’t even sleep at night, too wound up in thinking about how soft her hair was, or how cute she looked in the mornings when they would wake up together, and she was wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“Yeah, after you had your fun” she mumbles quietly, but he heard it. Something in his mind clicked, and he wasn’t sure why it took him so long, but he finally figured out what was going on.

The corners of lips turned upwards into a shit eating grin, and she swore she had never been so close to punching him.

He takes a step forward, their shoes touching, and brings a finger to her chin, pushing her head up to look him straight in the eyes.

“Your jealous” he says teasingly, his features a picture of pure joy.

“Your insufferable” she says, rolling her eyes, trying her best to be rude even though he was right. But all he could concentrate on was the fact she didn’t even deny it.

Her poker face disappears as he moves her hair off her shoulders, bringing his head down to plant harsh kisses along her neck, biting the sweet spot in the way he knew she liked it.

“Admit it” he mumbles into her neck, his hot breath making her insides tingle.

She debated it for a second, before she decided she had a better idea.

She palmed his cock through his shorts, trying not to get distracted by him as he lifted his head up, mouth agape, his darkened eyes illustrating that he wanted to devour her mercilessly.

And when she knew he was fully distracted, she pushed him into the pool.

Rafe emerged from the rippling water, his wet hair clinging to her forehead, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry” she giggles, bending down and crouching to get a better look at him, ignoring the glare that painted his features.

His glare didn’t stay for long, too caught up in how cute her laugh was. The cogs in his brain turned as his eyebrows furrowed into a thoughtful look, and before she could react, he was tugging on her arms and pulling her into the pool with him.

“Fuck you!” She shouts, almost chocking on the water as she laughs, making sure to splash him in the face.

“All you have to do is ask, angel” he smirks, trailing his eyes down to her breasts, rejoicing in the way her hardened nipples were poking through her dress, like they were begging to be touched.

He swims towards her, skin glistening with water droplets, and she just couldn’t help but stare at him in absolute awe.

He dipped his head down, brushing his lips against hers, lingering there for a moment as he grabs her thighs, wrapping them around his waist and pushing her back against the pool wall. Her hands clung to his wet hair, and as she registered just how heavy her breathing was, she knew she was too far gone.

“Someone’s ganna see” she whispers, unable to concentrate when he’s touching her like this.

“Let them” he says, his voice hoarse. He brought his hand up to cup her flushed cheek, before their lips connected in a sweet kiss.

One draw at a time, yeah

One more, you'll be fine, yeah

And I swear she was right there

The blue glow and the night wear

“Tell me how you want it, angel” he mumbles into her collar bone, trailing sloppy kisses all the way down from her breasts to her stomach.

He had turned up to her house in the middle of the day, not even bothering to phone her. It was rare that they spent time together during daylight hours, but she wasn’t exactly complaining. And as always, it had taken him all of 5 minutes until he had her striped down to her underwear, her black lingerie set making his head rush.

“Slow” is all she says, and he’s a bit taken back, lifting himself up so their face to face again. Rafe was an experienced man, but never has he once had slow sex. She lifted her head into the krook of his neck, planting sweet kisses along his skin and up to his jawline, occasionally biting, but not enough to actually hurt him. He came to the conclusion then that as long as she kept kissing him like that, he would try anything for her.

He hooked his fingers in her underwear, pulling them down her legs and revealing her drenched pussy. It didn’t matter how many times Rafe saw her naked, each time still felt like the first.

He buried his head between her legs and kissed her throbbing clit, before lapping his tongue teasingly over the bundle of nerves, small whimpers leaving her mouth at the sensation. She dug her manicured nails into her sheets, and she could feel him smirk against her pussy.

“You like that?” He asks lowly, even though he already knew the answer. She nodded her head, screwing her eyes shut as his licks got harsher, but remained slow.

He placed one hand on her stomach as he ate her out, looking up at her blissful state, and as she moaned his name, he felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

He pulled away, climbing up her body to meet her face once again, pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth as he lined himself up with her entrance, pushing his cock into her painfully slowly. The pit in her stomach grew heavier and heavier as he stretched her out, and he practically groaned into her mouth.

He started fucking her with slow but harsh strokes, gazing deeply into her eyes, and it dawned on him then that this felt like more than just sex. He trailed his thumb along her bottom lip before pushing it into her mouth, watching as she sucked on it with lidded eyes, and as she looked up at him, she realised that his blue orbs had some green in them.

What he didn’t know, was that when he knocked on her door earlier that day, and she peered at him through her window, she decided that this had to be the last time they fucked. The jealousy and sadness that he brought on her was turning her into someone that she didn’t recognise, and she knew she had to stop before it was too late, before he had broke her completely.

She savoured every minute as he thrusted into her, digging her nails down his back, leaving little red marks. He replaced his thumb with his lips, tongue diving down her throat as she hummed into his mouth, their kiss sloppy as they were both moaning messes.

He buried his head in her neck, biting her shoulder gently as his eyes screwed shut, overwhelmed at how good this felt even though it wasn’t what he was used to.

The feeling was so bittersweet as she let a single tear roll down her red cheeks, tangling her hands in his hair, only now realising that she had fallen in love with Rafe Cameron, and now she was going to have to heal.

Girl, I've been taking it slow

You know I've been taking it slow

You're sitting alone, why are you sitting alone?

Baby, just pick up your phone, oh

'Cause I've been rolling all damn night, whoa

She took a sip of her champagne as she walked through the beautiful flower garden, mentally praising Toppers parents for choosing to get married in such a picturesque place.

Her hair was plaited into two, with daisy flowers weaved into her hair, sticking to the floral theme of the wedding, and her lilac silk dress was accompanied with matching heels.

She walked to the end of the establishment, making sure no one else was around, before retrieving a crumpled up joint and a lighter from her purse, wasting no time in lighting it, staring at all the luscious plants around her as her body started to relax.

She’s interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and she almost gave herself whiplash with how fast she turned around.

“Jesus! Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to creep up on people?” She asks, eyes slightly wide as she takes a look at the man in front of her. He stood in a black suit, which she could tell was expensive, and a glass of whiskey sat in his ring clad hand, the condensation from the glass rolling down his fingers.

“Says the one getting stoned at a wedding” he says, smirking as he gestures to the lit joint in her hand.

“Hm, touché. But its the only way I’m going to be able to get through Toppers mums speech. I love Top with all my heart, but that woman is the devil” she says, taking a drag of her joint, watching as some of the loose embers fall onto the floor.

He laughs then, a real laugh, which for some reason melted her insides, and her cherry red lips turned upwards into a bright smile.

All Rafe could think about was how someone as beautiful as her could exist, and he didn’t even know about it. He made a mental note to punch Topper later for not introducing her to him.

“You like daisies?” He asks, and confusion fills her features for a second before she realised he’s talking about her hair.

“Uh, yeah. They were my mum’s favourite” she said, a certain dullness laying behind her eyes. His hands grew clammy as he put two and two together, but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to intrude on the personal life of a complete stranger.

“I like it. You kind of look like an angel” he says, and he clears his throat as he realised what he just said, his forwardness even shocking himself.

Her smile never wavered as he spoke, features lighting up at his kind words, and suddenly she needed to know who on earth this man was.

“I’m Y/N” she says, leaning her arm out to shake his, her dainty arms no match for his muscular ones.

“Rafe” he responds, mirroring her actions, and as soon as his skin touched hers, she had a feeling he was here to stay.

She sat alone in the island club, watching her phone light up as his contact came onto the slightly cracked screen, the small vibrations of her ringtone filling the room. Her head fell into her hands as she sighed, doing everything she could to go against her urges to answer the call.

She had been ignoring him for a few days, trying to detach herself, but every time he called, she got closer and closer to caving. Everything she did was for him, and now, everything she was doing was because of him, and it was so painful.

Rafe was at toppers with the boys, sipping on his whiskey as he held his phone up to his ear, listening to his ringer as the call went to voicemail for the third time that night.

“Fuck” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair as he shifted on the couch, the same couch where he had his first sinful encounter with her.

“Who are you calling?” Kelce says, eyes squinting with suspicion as he looks at Rafe, registering his stressed out state.

“No one” he replies, and it was impossible to miss the look that Kelce and Topper gave each other.

“Rafe, you might think you were being sneaky, but we know you’ve been seeing Y/N for months now. You guys are kinda obvious” Topper says, eyebrows raised as he confesses to his best friend, a small smile on his face.

“Plus, I saw you guys fucking in the pool the other night” Kelce says, and Rafe’s eyes widen.

“Shit” he says, not really sure what to say. For the first time in his life, he was stumped.

“You really like her, huh?” Topper says, always able to know what his best friend was thinking.

Rafe hesitated before nodding his head, taking another sip of his whiskey, rejoicing in the way it warmed his insides and numbed his pain.

“She won’t return my calls” he says, his mind a spiralling mess. He was trying to rack his brain to figure out what he had done wrong, but the more he thought about it the more confused he got.

“you have to make a gesture, something to show you care. Girls eat that shit up man” Topper said, patting Rafe on the back, Kelce nodding along with him. And as he was racking his brain for ideas, one thing did spring to mind.

Oh, baby, take a look around

I’m the only one that hasn’t walked out

I'm right here

She scanned the perimeter as she stepped onto the boat, the salty smell of the ocean wafting through the mid-day air. She spotted topper at the bar almost immediately, making some sort of cocktail concoction, and she couldn’t help but giggle as she walked up to him.

“Your late” Topper says as he spots her, the sound of the blender making it hard for her to hear, but she did.

“Fashionably late” she corrects him, gesturing to her matching bikini, lifting her sunglasses off of her eyes and resting them on her head, her hair cascading off her shoulders elegantly.

“Why am I here anyway? Frozen Margarita’s don’t really seem like much of an emergency” she says, eyebrows raised as an amused look paints her features.

“Oh but it is. I need you to test my recipe” he says, and as much as she wanted to be annoyed for dragging her out here for no reason, a margarita did sound good.

“Can you go get me some more lime juice from downstairs?” he says, and she nodded her head in response, placing her purse down on the bar before heading for the stairs.

The heels of her wedges clicked as she walked down the wooden stairs, heading straight to the downstairs bar. She flicked through the cupboards as she tried to find the desired lime juice, before her eyes landed on a glass vase which sat in the middle of the bar.

She drew in a sharp breath as she gazed at the bouquet of fresh daisies, accompanied by a card with her name on it, and her eyebrows furrowed. She brought her hand up to stroke the fragile petals, and the memory of her mother plagued her mind.

“What the-“

“They were your mother’s favourite” a male voice says, and she didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. “I remembered”

He pulled on her heartstrings as he stood in the doorway, a baseball cap sitting backwards lazily on his head, and a crooked smile on his ruby red lips that she could never get tired of, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t believe he remembered such a small detail like that, and she began to think maybe her prejudice towards him was all wrong.

“Rafe” she says quietly, clearly in shock, her doe eyes wide as he makes his way to her, and holy shit, he never really could get over how his name rolled off her tongue so sweetly.

“What are you doing?”

“What I’ve wanted to do since the day we met” he said, and she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but stare at him in awe as goosebumps formed along her tanned skin, melting into his touch as he brought a hand up to her cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb before cupping her cheek in his hand.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. I’m sorry I made all these stupid rules for us, like no cuddling, or keeping us a secret, because the truth is, every time your near, it takes every ounce of my self restraint not to touch you, or not to tell you that every inch of me belongs to you” he says, wrapping one hand around her waist, pressing her body against his, and she prayed he couldn’t feel how fast hear heart was beating right now.

“I only did those things because I was scared of actually letting someone in” he says, finally letting himself breathe as he paused. “Scared of having to admit that I love you, angel”

She grinned like a cheshire cat as he finished his sentence, admiring the way his cheeks blushed with a faint redness as he poured his heart out, and she swung her arms around his neck tightly, never wanting to let go.

“I love you too” she says, before reaching up on her tiptoes and claiming his lips in a gentle kiss.

“You know i would do anything for you, right?” She whispers against his lips, practically breathing the same air as him, and just like that, his signature smirk was back.

“Well in that case, how about you start with taking this flimsy thing off” he says, pulling on the straps of her bikini top, a small giggle leaving her glossy lips as she playfully hit his arm.

“Gross. Please don’t” Topper says, and they both jumped out of their skin as they spotted him in the doorway, arm leant against the wooden frame with a smug look on his face.

“Jesus! How long have you been standing there?”

Oh, baby take a look around

I'm the only one that hasn't walked out

I'm right here

[frissy]

Earth42! Miles Morales x fem!spider/1610!Reader

(Part 1) Part 2

MAJOR ATSV SPOILERS

• Earth 1610 Miles Morales

• You are also a spider person on Earth 1610 with Earth 42 spider DNA like Miles

• Takes place right before, and when Miles (and you) are sent to Earth 42

• possessive Earth 42 Miles

• You and Earth 1610 Miles are not in a romantic relationship

• mentions of death, guns, and blood

• violence

• angst and fluff

• some OOC Earth 42 Miles

• not proofread

Let’s do this.. one more time. Hey, I’m [name] from Earth 1610. You’ve heard the story before, I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for over a year, I’ve been one of Brooklyn’s spider-people, along with my best friend, Miles Morales.

We keep the peace in the city, and we protect it. but.. sometimes it’s hard. Keeping our normal lives balanced with our crime fighting lives… but somehow, we still find time for each other. . End of introduction….

.

.

.

.

.

“DON’T LET THEM LEAVE. THEY CAN’T LEAVE.” Miguel O’Hara was shouting out at every other spider person trying to get to you and Miles.

It turns out, you guys were anomalies. You weren’t supposed to be spider-people.

But the chasing was no use, you two already made it to the machine that could send you home.

Somehow, you two managed to get inside as the almost mechanic-looking-spider began to crawl from the celling and read your DNA and build a web around you two to send you home.

But Miguel lunged over, clawing at the web, almost breaking it. He was trying to get to you and Miles. But it was no use. The avatar, who responsible for the machine looked at you and Miles with sympathy. And she pressed the ‘yes’ button to send you home. .

.

.

.

You both were shot onto a roof of an apartment complex. The one that Miles lived in. However he was lucky, and ended up near his room. .

Meanwhile you were shot out onto the roof, hitting your head. On concrete, which knocked you out. .

.

with miles…

.

“Miles?” A familiar voice echoed. Entering his room. It was his mom! .

“Mom!” He walked over to her. “what did you do to your hair?”

“nothing? Mom. I have to tell you something. But you have to promise me you won’t get mad.”

“Of course Miles. What is it?”

“you’ll still love me, right?”

“yes of course. Now what is it?”

Miles took a deep breath.

“Mom.. I’m Spider-Man.”

… “who’s Spider-Man?”

his stomach dropped. He tried explaining to her.. but she was brushing him off.

“So, you shoot webs out your butt?” She laughed. “No.. but I did have a nightmare about that once—“

He heard the apartment door open. He felt sick. Even more sick when he heard his voice.

it was his uncle Aaron… but how.

He couldn’t understand what his mom and uncle Aaron were talking about. He was in shock. But Aaron noticed him.

“Miles. Lets go.”

“oh.. okay.” Miles left his room. Walking with his.. uncle out of the apartment onto the roof.

.

.

.

Meanwhile…

.

“ah.. fuck.” You groaned, standing up. You couldn’t believe you got knocked out like that. You rubbed your head.. then you looked up.

Brooklyn was in shambles. .

Then it all clicked. This, this was not your earth.

You remembered Miguel’s words. .

“BECAUSE OF YOU TWO, THERE’S AN EARTH OUT THERE WITH NO SPIDER-MAN TO PROTECT IT.” .

How stupid could you and Miles have been? The machine reads the spider DNA.

the spider was from Earth 42… not 1610. You were mortified by this Earth’s Brooklyn. .

But it got worse. So much worse. You turned around.. facing a giant brick wall. Miles’s dad was staring right back at you. .

But your own face was looking right back at you too. .

You felt like passing out again. .

You were dead, you were dead in this universe. .

The door to the roof open. Put came Miles… and Aaron. He looked just as mortified as you. Seeing Brooklyn, and the mural.

That’s when you felt a sharp ping in your neck, and the last thing you heard was,

“I TOLD YOU TO WAIT!”

Your body didn’t hit the ground.. someone had caught you in their arms.

.

.

“I told you to wait for my signal.” Aaron said looking at his nephew, who held you as if you were as delicate as porcelain.

Who held you how he would always do.

Aaron had Miles slumped over his shoulder.

“I know. Unc.. but couldn’t help it.” .

Aaron sighed, and looked at his nephew who’s looked at your unconscious, breathing figure as if he had just found something that had been lost for a long time.

he looked at you, barely whispering, putting a hand on your cheek. “Mi querida..”

Aaron sighed at his behavior.

“That’s not your girl.” Aaron told his nephew, “Remember that.” He said, pointing at the mural behind him.

.

Miles didn’t reply. Instead he brought your body closer to him, and held you tighter.

He wanted to feel the ride and fall of your chest.

He wanted to hear your breathing.

And doing that, he felt something he hasn’t felt in so long. .

“I know she’s not my girl.” Miles replied. His voice was shaky and he didn’t take his eyes off you. .

But I can make her my girl.

He thought to himself.

.

.

.

.

.

TO BE CONTINUED….

[friendsoup]

HALLO!! I THE ONE WHO REQ THE MEDI AND DIKKE FIC AND OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR WONDERFUL WRITING!!! I ABSOLUTELY LOVE HOW YOUR WROTE THEM ALL. I legit have lot of fun reading it and laughing at poor digger but got bully by two serious person. I really adore how you write their interactions that just seem in character of them and then the end had me screaming in giddyness.

If is okay could i req again for medi and dikke with a reader that often sleep randomly at the most uncoventional of place, which is how vertin found out your relationship with them. Feel free to decline if you cant but still thank you so much again for writing my req i really love it and i hope you have a nice day!! 😭💖💖

Also i so sorry for ranting

A Quiet Moment

Recipe: Established romantic relationships, GN! Reader, Reader x Medicine Pocket, Reader x Dikke, Dumbass and idiot used as petnames, You and Medi try to out fluster each other, Dikke is a super simp for you, Vertin is supportive WC: 2,001

Chef's Note: WAAAHHH I'm glad you enjoyed the last one!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! I'm super happy to write for you again, anon! Don't be afraid to be a repeat customer! If you want, you can assign yourself an emoji even :0! Anyways, I had fun writing this! I have a bunch of requests I gotta bang out though....hehe

Medicine Pocket wasn’t the type for “love”. Or any other foolish emotions. They’ve always found romance to be such a stupid waste of time, taking away from more important things, like their research. More than once a scientist on their team would do something absent mindedly while thinking of their wife at home. Then they’d mess up, ruining Medi’s most important results. Those times were met with no sympathy, Medi ruthlessly tearing into her team members for their foolishness.

…However, you were kinda cute. And interesting. That’s what Medi liked about you most. You were strange, not like the other people they’ve met. They liked everything about you that was different. Your laugh, your personality, your interests. They found it fascinating the way you thought, the way you acted. Medi wanted to study you, and if that wasn’t love? They didn’t know what was. However, the two of you had been keeping things on the low. Medi didn’t want their reputation as a mad scientist to be tarnished, nor did they want to show any weakness in front of their fellow arcanists. Not to mention that you had a reputation of your own to uphold, and a lack of close friends on your team to blab to. The two of you kept quiet about your little arrangement, but that was fine. Neither of you felt the need to brag, and given how fast gossip spread around the suitcase, the two of you were happy to stay far from it. But oh, the foolishness of a person in love never fails.

Naps had always been one of your favorite ways to pass the time, and with how much training you were getting, a heavy layer of exhaustion hung over you like a blanket. No matter how hard you tried to fight it, you were always a few seconds from falling asleep. Lost within your own dreamy haze.

Today just happened to be especially tiring. You were helping out with some chores around the suitcase, preparing for the next mission, when you felt the strong siren call of another nap wash through you. You dragged yourself through the halls, your body too tired to stay upright for long. You needed a place to sleep, and quickly. You found your respite in the dining room, underneath the table. It was nowhere near meal time, so you were certain you’d be undisturbed for a while. Dropping to a crawl, you made your way underneath and placed your head on the wooden floor. It wasn’t comfortable, far from it, but it was enough for you to begin to drift off. Medi hadn’t been looking for you. At least, they didn’t think they were. They’d been wandering all day, avoiding chores like the plague and ignoring the urge to continue their studies. They’d been suffering through a major creative block with their experiments, which frustrated them to no end. They were a genius! Why couldn’t they get it together?

Medi found you underneath the table. At first they laughed at the sight, then a fond smile came to their face. And then, realization. “[Y/N]!” They called, kneeling down to your side. “You’re going to hurt your back if you sleep on the hard floor!” They warned, shaking you awake. 

Groggily, you turned to them, annoyed that your nap had been cut short. “Nuh-uh.” “The fuck do you mean ‘Nuh-uh’?!” They exclaimed, “Dumbass! You’re going to hurt yourself! What are you thinking?!” “Tired.” You answer. “So, so tired.” Medi bites their fingertip through the glove, narrowing their eyes at you. “I’ll have to take a blood test to make sure you’re healthy. Even for an idiot like you, this isn’t healthy.”

“You’re worried.” You state, a warm smile growing on your sleepy face. “Nuh-uh!” Medicine Pocket shoots back, turning their face away from you. You can see a blush on their cheeks.

“You know…” You begin, reaching for their hand, “I might sleep better if I have something to rest my head on.” Medicine Pocket’s face grows redder, a pout twisting their expression. “What are you getting at, dumbass? Spit it out!”

“Can I rest my head on your lap?” You ask, bluntly. 

Medi covers their face with their hand, still not daring to look at you. A smug smile grows on your lips, enjoying how much you’ve flustered your partner. You don’t expect them to agree, PDA isn’t something the both of you necessarily enjoy. It’s more a game of chicken, seeing who bends first. Medicine Pocket swallows, then nods. “Of course you can.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, I wasn’t serious!” You argue, the thought of PDA making your face heat up. “Too late to back out now!” They giggle, scooching next to you. They take a seat right next to your head, patting their lap. “Come on, sweetheart, take a nap with me.”

The pet name, despite how mockingly it’s used, sends an arrow straight through your heart. Though you’re hesitant, the offer is appealing. Cuddling with Medi isn’t something you often get to do, and here they are, presenting you with the opportunity. And so you lift your head, and place it on their lap. They squeak instantly, the flush returning to their face all at once. “Hey! What if someone sees us?” “They won’t.” You mutter, already losing the battle to sleep. You yawn. Medicine Pocket is so warm, and feels so soft beneath your head. You could stay like this forever, you think. “Nobody will.”

“Are you sure?” Medicine Pocket asks, yet they get no answer. You’ve already fallen asleep, lost in your own dreams. Medicine Pocket sighs, putting a hand on your head and stroking your hair softly. You remind them of one of their dogs like this. All gentle and cute. They find themselves smiling uncontrollably, lost in the bliss of being close to you. About a half hour later, Vertin enters the dining room. “Medicine Pocket? [Y/N]?” She calls, glancing around the room. “Where did the two of you go?” She asks herself, a scowl deepening on her face. The two of you were skipping your responsibilities, and as leader, she had to get you both on track. Medi froze, eyes wide with fear. They couldn’t be caught in a situation like this! Especially by the Timekeeper! But they also couldn’t escape! Your sleeping face was just too cute, they didn’t want to disturb it!

And then you snored. It was a slight, quick breath, but Vertin is a very perceptive girl, and she heard it right away.

“[Y/N]?” Vertin asked, “Are you napping again? You’ve ought to get your tiredness checked out by a-” She leaned over to peer under the table, locking eyes with Medicine pocket. “Oh!” Vertin exclaimed, before her eyes fell upon you, slumbering away. “Oooh.” “It’s not what it looks like!” Medi objected, keeping their voice to a hush. “It’s just- I’m just! It’s an experiment! They’re a test subject to me!” A light danced in Vertin's eyes as she saw you two, though her face bore no changed expression. “It’s alright. Your secret is safe with me.” She gave a curt nod, and stood. “Vertin- Wait!” Medicine called behind her, panic in their voice. “You’ve got it all wrong! No!” “You have nothing to worry about.” Vertin reassured them. “I wish you two love and prosperity.”

“Vertin?!”

Though Vertin did not breathe a word to a single soul, the suitcase was alight a week later with rumors of the new couple among their numbers. And though your days of being a quiet couple were over, at least Medi didn’t feel so embarrassed to be seen sleeping next to you anymore.

Her Peace

Dikke had never been a fan of romance in plays.

The way bards would speak on and on about the sweetness of love, of the bliss of another’s touch, of the pangs in one’s heart, it didn’t seem possible to her. How could love be so powerful? She’d felt romance before, towards some fellow knights, though her feelings never clouded her judgment. She always managed to keep a clear mind, and was able to keep her thoughts rational. The stuff the bards spoke of was hyperbole. …You muddied that belief. Dikke was unbelievably weak for you. It scared her, in all honesty. She’d never been so vulnerable around someone before. Your smile made her sway, your laugh made her weak in the knees. She found herself thinking of you late into the night, unable to close her eyes without seeing your face. The walls she’d spent so many years building, crashed around her. Destroyed by a single person. Nobody knew of this relationship of yours. It wasn’t as though it was secret, it just wasn’t something you discussed with other people. Dikke didn’t often speak on matters of the heart, and you never found a good excuse to bring it up. And thus, the suitcase was unaware of the budding relationship in their midsts. Dikke had been training for hours. It was what she did to clear her mind, to calm her anxieties. There was something comforting about doing repeated exercises. It kept both her and her blade sharp. However, it was also extraordinarily tiring. The hard labor strained her muscles, making each movement painful. Though she was careful to never overexert herself, she still remained sore after each intensive workout. This time was no different.

Dikke dragged herself through the forest, focusing on her deep breaths. Birds sang in the trees around her, the same songs they’d sung in her homeland. Bees buzzed by her, brushing gently against her as she walked, clumsily making their way through. The same way they did a hundred years ago. And before then as well. Dikke lost herself in thought as she walked, allowing the nostalgia to ease her weary bones. And then she saw you. Like something out of a fairytale. You were sprawled beneath a grand oak tree, your chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. Dikke was stunned by your beauty, completely beside herself at the sight of you. Was it OK for her to see you like this? So vulnerable and pretty? Her heartbeat quickened, it was so loud she was worried it would wake you. You looked so peaceful, it made her dizzy. The fact that you could sleep so soundly here, without a care in the world… She wanted that tranquility. That trust in the world. Dikke sat next to you in the plush grass, keeping her guard up. She couldn’t just leave you here! What if something happened? She’d never forgive herself! As quietly as she could, she removed her cape, draping it over you in a single movement. Dikke loved the view of you in her cape. Seeing it made it hard for her to think, her brain only filled with thoughts of you. Surely it was alright to indulge. Just this once? You wouldn’t mind the company, would you? Holding her breath, Dikke laid beside you, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. She didn’t want to intrude, but she wanted some of that peace. Some of that tranquility you held.

It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep. The mix of the workout and your presence was too much on her weary mind. By the time Vertin found the two of you, you were entangled in each other’s arms. Your head on Dikke’s chest, and her face pressed into your hair. The sight surprised the timekeeper, though she knew better than to react. She didn’t want to risk waking you up.

Later, Vertin would seek you out. “I see you’ve found your knight in shining armor.” She tells you. Though it doesn’t reach her face, you can hear the smirk in her voice. “What do you mean by that?” You ask, confused. “I wish you and Dikke well. That’s all you need to know.” She responds. You grow too flustered to continue the conversation any further.

[skrrtscree]

P3M MAKOTO YUKI MISCONCEPTIONS

To be honest, it kind of annoys me when people watch the persona 3 movies and come away with it with the wrong idea of what Makotos character is in them. I don't mean the people who don't like the movies or their portrayal of him. It's fine if you don't, btw. Media is subjective, and different people will take away different things from the same thing, but I feel like some people end up completely missing the mark and mischaractizing that version of him.

For all the odd choices the p3 movies make, I'm adamant that his character and his arc is the best part about them, so it kind of urks me when i see tharpeople take away from it is that 'he's emotionless and devoid of personality' or 'a complete asshole who doesn't care about anything' both of which is untrue in all the films.

CW: blood in one of the images (the car accident scene, it just shows the hand but still)

First of all, the whole him being 'rude and uncaring' thing; To be honest, nothing he says strikes me as rude, it all comes off as blunt and not fitting the situation (him asking if they can leave during the hospital scene, and his answer seemingly having no sympathy when they talk to Natsuki). Of course to those who don't know him that well, he comes off as cold especially since his facial expression or tone barely change.

And the uncaring bit continues to get debunked through every film. Even in the first film, where he's closed himself off and doesn't care about living. He awakens to his persona to protect Yukari, he helps Fuuka collect her stuff twice despite not knowing her and even listens to her talk about Natsuki, he summons a different persona and throws himself at the Priestess to save Junpei. He goes against what he was told to do and goes straight into Tartarus because of the fear that his team will die if he doesn't.

It's made clear in the first movie that despite avoiding connections with people, he still can't let people die, deep down he cares about those around him getting hurt and wants to prevent that. It seems to heavily be rooted by his PTSD of the accident, him getting flashbacks to it in both the second and third full moon at the thought of someone dying. He's willing to throw himself in danger, not giving up even if he gets hurt or could exhaust himself, he has no care about his life, but he still cares about those around him.

The only claim I could see holding weight is the 'no personality' part but that's mainly because he spends half of the first film following orders from other people, but that itself can be seen as part of him, he doesn't have any direction or any care about his life so he follows what everyone tells and wants from him. He fights because he was told hed make a great asset to the team, he stays behind because him going would make Yukari mad, he has no reason not to listen or any argument to refute it, and this is dismantled near the end where he refuses to listen when they tell him to run because he can't let anyone die.

This is all I've gathered from the first movie still, I could carry on for all of them (and there is alot to talk about in each one in regards to his character) but I think I've made my point. Not only does they continue to prove those points incorrect, his character continues to evolve with the events around him.

I don't think there's a right or wrong way to write or portray makoto. The movies are not the be- all-all-end all of his characterization, but when you're talking about or writing that specific version of him, just don't end up writing him in a way that completely contradicts what the film shows.

[avelera]

I am never going to be over what the movies did with Steve and Tony's dynamic, because- listen, listen. The reason Civil War was (supposed to, it was kind of a hot mess) hit so hard in the comics was that these two were *best friends* and had been for decades of comic time. In the movies, they never are friends, so Civil War is just two colleagues who never really got on, and not the devastating tearing apart of a long-established friendship group.

Dude I literally burst out into like... outraged, furious laughter in the theater when Tony said, "I thought I was your friend?" because, umm, footage not fucking found?

I completely get and respect the comic readers here for whom Steve & Tony and Steve/Tony were, in fact, the best of friends! But the MCU never ever actually showed it.

To cram that line, which felt lifted from the comics, into the MCU was genuinely laughable. How could Tony possibly think he compares to what we've seen of Steve and Bucky's relationship, since childhood even if you don't ship them, as the only person Steve has left from his entire life pre-WWII? How could Tony possibly think he compares except through the lens of a galaxy sized ego and being totally self-involved to the exclusion of all else? How could any work colleague, since that's what they are at best when not outright antagonists to each other in the MCU, think they'd compare to a childhood friend in danger, that Tony is actively putting in danger? Who Tony is blaming for the death of his father despite the fact they've got piles of evidence that Bucky was a mind-controlled prisoner of war being actively tortured at the time?

It's literally staggering, it beggars belief that this line was uttered. And wildly enough, it's not even my least favorite line in Civil War. (That one goes to Vision's stupid fucking comment about how strength invites challenge, basically victim-blaming the superheroes for having villains, which only possibly makes any sense if you ignore Thor, the greater galaxy, all of the infinity stones, and basically every other part of the MCU timeline before Steve Rogers got the serum, Christ that line makes me mad.

Oh, and the line about Tony just handwaving signing the accords because their lawyers can fix it later as the most boneheaded line of insane privilege I've ever heard. Kids, never fucking sign something just because you can supposedly fix it later, christ it's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.)

ANYWAY, I have major beef with Civil War's logic. It never should have happened where it did in the MCU. Cap 3 should have been dedicated to its original plot before they found out RDJ was staying on in the MCU and they had the pieces to make Civil War (the original was the hunt for Bucky and an examination of Captain America's legacy through the lens of Bucky killing off the pretenders the US government set up to be him over the years, and I still weep that we never got it) But I do honestly, deeply, have sympathy for comic fans and why they're mad about the Steve and Tony friendship never actually appearing on screen in any meaningful way.

Civil War shouldn't have happened then. Civil War is a plot you run now, when you've got the rights to the X-Men and too many damn characters running amok. Civil War would be perfect now for pairing down some of the ballooning MCU nonsense. The cast was literally not big enough circa Cap 3 to make Civil War. And I'm eternally bitter that they pivoted away from the smaller-scale Cap-centric movie we should have had and instead made another Avengers movie in its name.

[sincere1ystar]

Almost

you two almost have it all but then life changes its plans (reader sort of takes the role of annie in this)

warnings: typical character death angst

You have always known as the victor who went “mad”. Walking through district 13 you often hears whispers of pity from everyone saying how deranged you seem to be. Well everyone except Finnick.

Finnick who sees you for who you are, not as some person who went mad because of the games. Finnick who made the effort to comfort you through your nightmares even though he had his own. Finnick who whispered sweet nothings into your ears until you fell asleep.

On days where you’re constantly plaqued by nightmares of the games, Finnick never leaves your side. Katniss and the others notices how Finnick is the only one who can snap you out of your terrors. He takes you to the beach hoping that the sound of the waves will calm you down and when it doesn’t he comforts you through his love.

When Finnick goes off on that mission before you guys could start your honeymoon, you feel a sinking feeling in your stomach. You feel like something is wrong.. no you know something is wrong. But this isn’t the first time you are like this so Finnick reassures you the best he can.

Finnick feels strongly. When your heart hurts, his hurts along with her. When uou feels upset about the past, he can’t help but mirror your emotions. And now when you are pleading and begging for him to stay, he can’t help but want to plead along with you.

When you notice Katniss, Peeta, and the others come back from the mission your heart swells when you realize that means your love is back. Finally back and you’ll never have to leave the warm embrace of his arms ever again. Suddenly all the suffering and endless nights of screams and sobs are worth it, that is until you don’t see Finnick in the crowd.

You notices how everyone is looking at you with… pity? sympathy? You don’t care much because you need to find Finnick, it’s as if you’re a fish desperate to be in the water again.

When you don’t find him you can’t help but think the worse. “No no no you’re just overthinking just like how Finnick always says you do”, you think to yourself, “Soon enough you’ll be in his arms again and you both will laugh about how silly you were when he was alive and healthy the whole time.”

Your bubble of delusion is broken by Katniss, whose words are wary and cautious.

“Hey”-,Katniss attempts to start before you interrupts her.

“Katniss!! Thank god now someone can tell me where Finnick is? Where is he? Where’s Finnick? He’s alright isn’t he? Where is he I want to see him. No I need to see him!!”, you cry out frantically before you give Katniss a chance to finish.

Just then a few other circle Katniss as a sign of some sort of support as she starts to say, “Finnick’s not… He’s not.. He didn’t… make it”.

Just then your world goes quiet. You are surrounded by others giving you their condolences trying to comfort you, but it all goes in one ear and out the other.

Sometimes it feels like you can’t breathe. “It’s like the first time Finnick taught me how to swim and I almost drowned”, you think. Other times you hopelessly cry and cry for hours. “It’s like when I wake up sobbing and screaming from my nightsmres and Finnick’s right there to hold me”, you think. And sometimes you’re just plain out angry as you let the rage take over your mind because you can’t help but just be angry. Angry at the fact that you’ve lost him right before you both almost had it all. “It’s like when I get angry about what the games did to all of us and Finnicks there to help me work through it”, you think. No matter what emotion you feel, you always link Finnick to it.

You have always been surrounded by grief, but you never really knew the strange things it makes you do. You don’t throw out the rope Finnick was tying the last time you saw him, you won’t throw out the half full water bottle he last drank from, and you refuses to clean out any of his things.

Grief also brings you jealousy. When you see Katniss and Peeta finally get their happy ending, you can’t help but mourn what you could have had with Finnick. Of course you’re happy for the couple, who wouldn’t be? But sometimes you find yourself drowning in envy when you see the two of them together. You have that same look in your eye, the same look Katniss had at your wedding with Finnick when Peeta was hijacked. Life’s funny like that, you think.

[chuuyasfanboy]

HII!! Could you do one with Dazai, Chuuya and Atsushi reacting to a reader who has one of those SHTWT accounts? It's a kind of strange request, but I've never seen anyone talk about it!!

I actually loved your blog, I'm currently hooked! <3

NOT a weird request at all! I dont have any social medias like this, but I interact with edtwt and have friends with both edtwt's and shtwt's, so I think I'm comfortable enough talking about the issue!

Now this may be very hypocritical of me BUT IF YOU ARE STRUGGLING MENTALLY PLEASE REACH OUT FOR HELP! Here's a link to a website with hotline numbers! Even if you cant get yourself to stop completely, please at least be save enough to keep living. Love you all mwah<3

https://www.pleaselive.org/hotlines/

Definitely didn't skip a matchup request to write this... Promise I'll get to you soon other person! I've had some ideas in mind heheheh

Dazai, Chuuya, and Atsushi (Seperate) x shtwt!Reader

Tw: Sh tw, mentions of edtwt in the ooc lol, spoilers dazai totally has a shtwt too</3

Dazai Osamu

Starting off with the worst reaction

Why is he the worst, you ask?

He has one too!

He totally followed you by accident because he just found this all so inspirational. And then you posted a tweet with the same joke you'd made earlier that day.

And oh he knew.

He's mad, but mostly because you never told him you were struggling.

He's the one who's supposed to be masking his emotions, damn it!

(I'm not sure if shtwt is the same way, but i know edtwt is chock full of motivational disgusting food images posting! I'm making those assumptions that its similar lol)

He definitely tries to convince you to get help, and he feels really bad for not actually being that worried.

He trusts you to keep yourself safe enough and so eventually he just gives up on the notion altogether

It doesnt take long for the two of you to be a bit more open with it all

He finally shows you whats under those bandages

It's worse than you think.

You're the one who convinces him to properly treat his cuts, and after enough bothering, you finally let him treat you the same.

Late nights when the two of you cant sleep, and he comes over.

The both of you in each others arms, disinfectant and fresh rolls of bandages discarded on the nightstand

While he may not be the one you go to for support, he definitely wont judge you for anything, not even a bit

And if you do decide to finally get help, he's there to cheer you on

Dont be fooled though, he wont be changing his ways at all

Good luck getting this stinker to find value in himself!

Chuuya Nakahara

He's got the best reaction, by far

He's trying not to judge you, really

It's not something he's ever had to struggle with these things, and the furthest he can really give you is an absurd amount of sympathy

The little experience he does have comes from his years with Dazai in the port mafia, but that was a long time ago and he hasnt had to think of it since

It brings up old memories...

You'd left it open on a private tab one night, and he found it when you asked him to look up something

He's about ready to cry, really, but he's strong

For you

He encourages you to get help, professional help

And if you decline, he doesnt push it much further

Instead, he offers you help directly

He cofiscates your razors the best he can, but he soon finds you manage to get them anyway

So he comprimises

When you forget to clean them, he does it for you

Buys you disinfectant and fresh bandages every time he knows youre running low, keeps your first aid stocked

Things like that

He politely asks to not be shown any fresh wounds, twitter post or not, and does his best not to think about the fact you post these things so openly and he hadn't even known

If you do decide to seek help, he's the most supportive.

He keeps you on your recovery plan, holds you close if you relapse, and never passes a single word of judgement your way

He's here for you, always

Atsushi Nakajima

Akutagawa found it before he did

Atsushi was told, immediately

He PANICS, and as soon as he sees you he pulls you aside

And he just cries into your arms

You're left so confused like?

What????

He understands why you didnt tell him, and he doesnt blame you for it

But he's still pretty upset

Moreso with himself than you

Again, like the other two, you'd been posting pictures of it all online and he had to be told!

He insists you get help, and he wont let up on it

Reminds you every day after a nicely times good morning text

"If you're feeling down make sure you call somebody before you do anything, okay?"

He's practically on his hands and knees begging you to unfollow the shtwt's you've bombarded your feed with

Suddenly he's terrified of looking over your shoulder at your phone, but also so afraid every time he isnt

He's really not good at sorting it out, his brain is scrambled and he's panicked every time he thinks about it

But he really does try hard to stay positive

And while one or two things he says may unintentionally come off as judgement, a good majority of his opinions on the topic is really just trying to get you help

He makes an alt account just to keep tabs on your shtwt

Its really obvious, made a day ago and following only you

You don't tell him that though<3

[rb19]

as the norstappen url holder TO ME current norstappen dynamics is SYMPATHY IS A KNIFE by charli

we know lando cares very deeply about how fans/media view their friendship. he felt he had to clear up he didn't race max hard in 2023 bc there's no point duh max was in rocketship, he could not compete, didnt make sense for his own result to put up a fight, it's not bc he is max's mate!!!! stop saying that PLEASEEE!!!!! went far to say that "we're not best friends." and i get that. just bc max doesn't let fans/media opinion get to him, it doesn't mean it's easy for lando to do the same.

max considers lando his best friend from the grid bc lando was the first driver who had the same interests as him back in 2019. finally someone from the grid understood max's sim racing obsession. lando didn't make fun of max's love for video games bc he also loved to play them. their iracing/COD streams back in 2019/2020 were fun and the reason they got close. as lando moved to monaco they started hanging out together, max loves a good party and so does lando now so to sass cafe we go. lando couldn't get max into golf god bless but they love to play padel. etc.

lando was very much a fan of max when he first got into f1. once i was stalking this inactive max fan page on instagram and noticed lando liked a bunch of posts back in 2018 😭 he saw max winning the big titles in karting. i think a few max fans are annoyed by some of lando's actions/interviews right now but they forget how he was/is always very complimentary of max as a driver/person in interviews. how he asked in the 2020 70th anniversary gp who won the race and his reaction to race engineer saying max was "legend." how he was team max throughout the whole 2021 season. how even last year he asked british fans to not boo max in silverstone. etc. and max was always there backing up lando too. stating he believes lando has what it takes to be a world champion in the future, that he made the right choice by staying in mclaren and having faith in the project.

IN 2024 they both have a fast car and they can compete against each other. max is a three time world champion, he aint got nothing else to prove. he has beaten lewis fucking hamilton. lando is the one who has everything to prove. he has to prove he can fight max hard now and back up his words. the pressure is all on lando. so how lando talks about max in race weekends, how he reacts to max's performances on track is going to change naturally. those max fans have to accept that. but things won't change for max, because max has been winning for so long now. max knows how to take losses. how to quickly recover from mistakes.

and ofc max being happy for lando in miami was ok, it was first win, everyone was happy for him. but lando doesn't want to see max happy anymore. i just beat you to pole and you come up to me to gossip about leclerc's lack of penalty??? who the fuck cares, can't you be at least a bit mad? lando will sulk after a race he feels he should've won, while max will quickly get over a p2 in miami even if he got fucked over by a SC. lando will entertain hypotheticals bc it helps knowing he was close to a win again, while max dgaf he could've won miami, he's all praises for lando.

lando does not have the self confidence max has. lando will question himself. it's normal. lando will feel conflicted. he doesn't want max to play nice with him, he doesn't want max's sympathy after he just lost a race. sympathy is just a knife. he knows it's sincere coming from max, and especially bc it's sincere he feels belittled by it. it's silly and he doesn't even want to feel that way. is he not worthy of being max's RIVAL? he doesn't want max to explain to him after the race how his aggressive move opened up the door to george overtake them both. he doesn't want max to be laughing at him in the press con. can max take me seriously for a sec?

next chapter: austria.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Can't Help Himself (18+)

Pairing: Jason/Danny

Inspired by this wonderful piece of art I wanted to write some non-con with pit mad Jason and Danny, with some random LoA assassin holding Jason's leash.

Trigger warnings (seriously y'all); rape, vaginal penetration, degradation, manipulation, Pit mad!Jason, sexual violence, forced breeding.

This is Dead Dove

------

“Keep a tight grip on the leash,” Talia said as he handed over the chain with a personable smile. “He’s very well trained but that doesn’t always help when you’re not holding the leash. I’m loathe to part with him of course, but grandfather says you have an important prisoner and Jason is an excellent guard dog~” She ran her painted nails through the young man’s black and white hair.

The masked assassin nodded, looking down at the young man at the end of the leash, he glared back with glowing green eyes, swirling with the sort of mindless rage particular to the Lazarus pits. Such people were little more than animals but they could still be useful. “I’ll take good care of him,” She assured the leader’s daughter, bowing to her before she turned to leave. When Jason was reluctant to follow Talia made a sharp hissing sound that made him flinch and follow his temporary mistress without resistance. 

It was a quick walk to the cell in the depths of the league base that held one of the more interesting things they had managed to capture. “I brought you a friend, Phantom” the assassin said cruelly as she flipped on the lights. 

Inside the young man with slow white hair and intelligent Lazarus green eyes hissed at the sudden light. He glared at the assassin baring too sharp teeth and snarling, he had talked a lot when he had first been brought here but when he seemed to realize it didn’t do any good he had stopped. Now he was giving everyone the silent treatment seemingly out of spite, occasionally yanking on the Lazarus treated shackles, the only things they’d found that could hold him. He was wary as he glanced down at Jason, his eyes widening slightly. 

Jason too had fallen still and stopped snarling, the two men were just… staring at each other. Well that was odd. The assassin clicked her tongue and gave Jason’s leash a brief tug, reminding him who he was answering too and his purpose. He blinked and, rather than falling back into line he strained towards their captive, trying to get closer. 

She hissed sharply and kicked high, bringing her foot down on the chain connected to Jason’s thick collar, using her weight to drag him down to the floor. Jason let out growling oof as he barely caught himself enough to break the fall, finally looking away from the prisoner to look at the woman now standing on his leash, keeping him down on the floor by his neck. What shocked her was the whine that Phantom let out in response. When she looked up she saw that he was also straining towards Jason, matching green eyes filled with sympathy. 

“He doesn’t want to help you, you know,” She scoffed at Phantom. “The violence of the Pit runs deep in this one, he barely has enough of his mind left to know his own name. You should thank me for keeping him away from you, he probably wants to tear you apart,” she laughed only to be met by an Extra glowy glare from Phantom.

“You want him Fine,” She said, rolling her eyes and taking her foot off the chain, letting Jason get to his hands and knees. He moved towards Phantom hesitantly, expecting to be pulled back again, but this time she let him, following with a tight grip on his leash. She didn’t think the Demon Head would be pleased if he actually let a Guard Dog hurt his prize so she had to be ready to yank him back if he got too violent. 

When Jason realized that he wasn’t going to be pulled back he sped up and practically pounced on Phantom who let out an oof as he was pushed down to the stone floor. Before the assassin or, it seemed, Phantom, knew what was happening Jason was scrambling at the being clothes. 

“No, Don’t-” Phantom yelped, the first words he’d said in days as Jason tore Phantom’s shirt open from collar to waist like a child unwrapping a present. He lashed out to try and push Jason off but bound as he was Jason was stronger and didn’t seem to be struggling to hold Phantom down. Despite not needing to breath he gasps as Jason bears down on him, grabbing at the front of his shirt. What was interesting though was that despite looking scared and saying no Phantom was not fighting as hard as he could, wasn’t going for Jason’s throat or eyes.

“Well this is getting interesting~” She laughed, Phantom’s gaze snapped to her as if he’d forgotten she was there. 

“Make him stop,” Phantom gasped and she grinned unapologetically down at him, her mouth still covered by her mask but judging by his despair he saw it in her eyes. 

“No, I don’t think I will. I think I like where this is going~” She laughed. She did pull Jason back but it was not to stop Jason, but he was so mindless right now she wasn’t even sure He knew what he wanted. But she did~ When she pulled him back onto his knees she could see that his cock was rock hard and straining against the loose pants he was wearing. 

This was wrong of course, but she wouldn’t be an assassin if she didn’t have a sadistic streak, or cared at all about what was right. So she was just going to have fun, and right now what that means was shoving Phantom over onto his stomach with her foot and leaning down to grab the back of his pants with one hand, yanking them down and fully ignoring his screams for her to stop. 

Jason was staring, his eyes roaming over the curve of Phantom’s ass and when she yanked Danny’s hips up she saw how Jason’s pupils dilated when he got a good view of Phantom’s pussy. She planted her foot on the back of Phantom’s neck to keep him down and semi-still. “Good boy Jason,” She told Jason, talking over Phantom’s objections, knowing Jason would listen to her, the one holding his leash, like he was trained to. “Now you, take off your pants.” She ordered, and of course he obeyed though never did he take his eyes off of Phantom the entire time.

“Well, I think you know what you want, go ahead and take it~” She told Jason, pushing off of Phantom’s neck and leaning against the wall, though of course she still kept a firm grip on Jason’s leash. She'd step in if she had to, but she’d much rather just enjoy the show.

Jason hesitated for a moment, but as soon as Phantom started to pull away it broke through whatever was holding Jason back and he lurched into motion. He grabbed Phantom’s hips and yanked him back making the being yelp. Jason leaned down, his nose was nearly pressed into Phantom’s pussy as he breathed deeply, scenting the other as Phantom whimpered his protest. 

“You might as well shut up again Phantom. He only listens to the one holding his leash,” She mocked. Not that Jason seemed to be listening to her very much right now, whatever innate instinct to breed Phantom seemed to be overwriting just about everything else. “Besides it looks like he just can’t help himself.”

Jason ran his tongue over Danny’s pussy, a long sweep from his clit to his taint making him gasp and shudder. Jason did it again and Danny yanked against his chains, trying to cover his mouth but coming up just shy. “Jason Stop!” He pleaded but was completely ignored, just as she had warned him he would be. 

Jason growled and pushed deeper, his tongue disappearing inside the boy’s cunt. It was only a little disappointing to see Phantom bite his lip to silence himself, less so as she watched green blood drip down his chin from where his fangs had sunk into his own lip. Behind him Jason’s growl slowly morphed into a purr before he pulled back. His dick was an attractively desperate shade of pink as he adjusted his grip on Phantom’s hips and then ground against his ass. 

Phantom yowled like a furious cat and thrashed, but chained and pinned as he was there was nowhere for him to go as Jason wrestled his legs apart. Danny fought, until with one quick, clumsy thrust Jason forced his way into the pale being body. Pinned and penetrated Phantom finally fell still with a keen that would have been heartbreaking, had anyone who was listening been sympathetically inclined. 

She cackled and yanked on Jason’s leash, dragging him further over Phantom, further into his unwilling pussy. Jason’s face was read, his strong back covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his eyes glowing more intensely than ever before, fixed down on the object of his unwanted affections. 

He pulled out and pushed back in and Phantom yelped and shuddered, clawed fingers digging into the very stone beneath him as Jason wasted no time in fucking him. He looked up at her with hatred in his eyes that… if she was honest scared her a little. His gaze seemed to promise that the second he got out of these shackles she would pay, but she didn’t show that fear of course. 

“Don’t look at me that way~ I’m not the one fucking you,” She mocked him and he gave a broken snarl before spitting blood at her feet. Huh he must have bitten his tongue at some point. 

Jason’s eyes slid closed, his breathing coming in shallow moans and keens as he rutted into Phantom’s body with reckless abandon, uncaring and eager. He found some sort of rhythm, his moans and the sound of flesh on flesh the only sounds in the cell. Phantom had bitten his lip again, his eyes closed tightly and his fists clenched so quickly she could see the blood where his claws were digging into his own palms. 

Jason’s moans took on a new breathy tone as he lost track of his rhythm, bucking his hips in frantic shallow thrusts until he came. She knew he must have because Phantom wailed so loudly she knew it would be ringing in her ears for days.

Jason let go abruptly and Phantom collapsed to the floor, curling up in a ball and hugging himself tightly. “Wonderful performance everyone,” She laughed pulling Jason away. “But I don’t think you’ll be a good guard for him after all Jason. Sort yourself out. I’ll take you back to Talia and find someone who won’t fuck the prisoner.”

[celticcrossanon]

Hello Celta, Long time no see. I hope all is well.

I’m writing to bring you some juicy gossip from 1. Bookworm2 on YouTube, 2. a jailing of a sugar, and 3. lady C will be unmasking ugly after all and 4. Meghan regrets telling kids she’s the most bullied.

Bookworm does have some far reaching long term contacts at the palace and elsewhere in the US., truly people in the know. When you publish my ask I will attach her latest video. Allegedly Archwell, is rumoured to be under investigation by the Feds and IRS. There’s the matter of the missing millions from Archwell, and failure to declare it. BUT BUT BUT there’s also the matter of the Harkles, Meghan in particular uttering death threats across state lines, as part of an FBI cyber bullying investigation. This latter charge relates to the extreme bullying and harassment Catherine underwent during her cancer diagnosis and treatment. Catherine allegedly received some really nasty death threats while she was secluded from the public, at the height of the ‘Wheres Kate’ psychodrama online. Remember William went to visit M15 and it was publicized everywhere?? Two card readers, Mad World Tarot included, did a reading that showed the 3 of pentacles card, involvement through a third party. I wonder if they were able to trace the financial angle ie payment from Archwell. Or one of the third party, ie the death threat poster, probably squealed about his motivation and bosses. MWT saw William’s energy behind this. They truly thought online threats were untraceable. Consequences people consequences.

Avid Gardener and Trevor Coult on YouTube has the woman accused of trying to bomb Buckingham Palace brought up on charges against them. She made the threat on Twitter brazenly and openly. She’s also issued death threats to Avid and her husband and had bullied Trevor out of his charity job and home. She’s been named in the press as Diane Durham, 62, and she’s an immense sugar. Stupid woman pleaded not guilty after first admitting everything. It moves on to the high court for sentencing. I think the police are concurrently investigating the YouTube harassment claims. She stands to lose her house to Trevor in damages. I have no sympathy. Consequences people consequences.

On a related topic Lady C will most likely take go fund me to court because of the illegal reopening of her money raising drive for Mr thomas Markle Snr. She alleges that someone with connections had go fund me reopen the fundraiser after it was closed as per her contract with them, and called the newspaper to accuse her of fraud, all within the space of a few days. First she threatened the newspaper with a lawsuit if they ran the story, and then she threatened go fund me after they tried to brush her off, by telling her they couldn’t identify the member of staff of go fund me due to privacy reasons. She’s not having it AT ALL. And will see them in court. She strongly hints that she suspects Meghan and Harry are behind it, again through third parties. They want to damage her reputation and get her off YouTube. I think they mistakenly identified Lady C as a pushover. Don’t they anything about her life? lol. Consequences people consequences.

There’s also a threat by the UK bullied staff to be released from their NDAs to speak on camera about Meghan’s Bullying Report buried by the Queen. This, after she went to some girls charity last week. and claimed to be the most bullied person in the world. I bet she’s regretting that now. Consequences people consequences.

They both must be sweating bullets. No wonder Harry is nowhere to be seen. I hear a rumour he’s either in Australia to harass his father, or he’s in the UK hoping to be named counsellor of State while dear old pop is away. Harry is so dumb, all he cares about are the perks of the BRF and never about the consequences of his actions. He’s thicker than a brick.

There you go. It’s quite a lot, and I hope sooner rather than later they face justice in some form or another.

Hi AnonymousRetired,

All is very well with me, thank you for asking.

Thank you as well for sending in such a lot of lovely gossip. It looks like things are starting to move against the Harkles. Like you, I hope that all the perpetrators face justice, and sooner rather than later.

Videos referred to in the gossip (I hope these are the right ones): Note: I still need the ones from Lady C

Bookworm 2

Avid Gardener

Trevor Coult MC

Mad World Tarot

[theamityelf]

(Most of this post was made before I finished the movie. It gets addressed later.)

"Does it really count as being a good person if you're getting a reward for it?" This movie has an interesting attitude toward the activity of goodness where hardship is inherently moral and nothing you do actually counts; only the circumstances around it.

We are encouraged to feel sympathy for Red and ignore any wrongdoing because of her circumstances, and we are encouraged to ignore anything Chloe does right because her circumstances make it easy.

Which...I mean, I guess it's not the worst exploration of Attribution Theory, but it sets up this world where the only lesson to be learned is that anyone who does harm has a good heart and a sympathetic reason, except high school bullies I guess. There is no reason to feel any sympathy for school bullies. They are bullies because they are fundamentally unkind, and you are being bullied because you are fundamentally kind. The worst thing you can be is a school bully, and the meanest adults in your life are probably mean because they were bullied in school. Good news; because you're unhappy now, you're morally in the clear to make someone else's childhood unhappy when you grow up. They'll feel bad for you when they hear about how hard you had it.

Ella had a bad childhood and made sure her daughter's childhood was happy. Her daughter goes back in time to meet a young version of Ella who feels disdain for her privilege. Not inherently a bad thing; just maybe a weird zag on the happy scene from the beginning. It's like they wanted to teach Audrey or Chad a lesson but couldn't, so instead they used her.

If they wanted to teach Chloe some moral lesson other than "You should feel bad for having nice parents," the line Ella gave Red about how her mother is kind when others are unkind to her would be a much better choice! Instead of showing us a version of Bridget who is this angelic being who tolerates all manner of mistreatment, make that Ella. Because that's the actual story of Cinderella?!

Let Chloe react to Red's rudeness with dislike, the way she already did. She was nice to Red, Red was rude, Chloe immediately formed a negative judgement of her character. She goes back in time, sees her mother constantly taking the high road with mean people, hears that line about how hard it is, learns a lesson. That's so much more coherent with everything we already know than making Ella really wry and condescending toward pretty much everyone and giving Bridget the halo.

But I'm not going to post this until after I've finished watching the movie, in case they turn it around. If you're reading this, I've finished the movie and I still agree with myself, lol.

Okay this is me after the movie, and they did manage to pull something together as far as Chloe's arc being that she abandons her legalistic view of the world to a more utilitarian morality. There are aspects of the execution that I don't love, like I feel like they didn't do enough to set it up before the payoff, but they definitely did something coherent with her character. I might do a how-I-would-rewrite for this one.

I will say, the vase scene is the one my mind keeps going back to. Chloe breaks the vase. She does accidental harm. She apologizes and doesn't seem to fully understand that apologizing isn't going to fix it, because she was raised in a positive environment where intentions matter. Ella, angry about the vase, basically explains that her intention doesn't erase the harm. Okay.

But neither does penitence. The resolution of this scene is "Let's give her some space because she's mad," not "Let's do anything to make things better for her." Maybe helping her with her chores later was supposed to count as that, but it more reads as a learning montage for Chloe than any attempt at atoning for the accidental wrong she did.

Bridget is wronged and turns that into a dictatorship and abusive parenting. She has no agency in the harm she does; she is just a machine where if you input "unhappy school dance" she will output "evil queen". I kind of thought that preventing this one thing from happening to her in her teens was going to prove an ineffective way to change who she became, and maybe they were going to address some deeper issue with her worldview that would resonate with one of the protagonists. Maybe connect her lesson to Chloe's, since they seemed like they wanted to connect Ella's situation to Red's.

But no, this one incident at a school dance turned her from a cheerful, nice person to an evil queen, preventing it makes her nice again, there is nothing else to it.

For the record, I'm not mad; I'm fascinated.

That was a first watch, so who's to say how I'll feel later, lol.