#it might just means you don't know what the fuck you're talking about

[seitmai]

A bubble of laughter escaped Bob. "What's No Nut November? Like no peanuts?"

Bless him, he is adorable

"More like no penis," drawled Hangman. "Or vagina," he added when he saw the look Phoenix was giving him.

Yeah let's be inclusive here ☝🏻

Rooster stared at him in confusion. "I think she might notice something's up if I go from being balls deep inside her at least once a day to giving her nothing!" "There are workarounds, Rooster. Don't you ever use your mouth for anything other than whining?" Phoenix asked, earning laughs from the others. 

The guys all turned and looked at Phoenix who was stretching before she started weight training. "Oh, I'm already out. I lost." Rooster's brow scrunched up. "What do you mean you're already out? It's November 1st at 9:30 in the morning." Phoenix just smirked at the boys. "I had a guest over last night," she said coyly. "Legendary," Fanboy muttered. "You've got more game than all of the rest of us combined."

As she should 😌

 By November 15th, Rooster estimated he'd gone down on his girlfriend about a hundred times so far this month. This wouldn't have been a problem for him at all, except now his jaw was starting to ache, and she was desperately trying to reciprocate. 

Not Rooster complaining about his jaw aching lmao

Payback cocked his head. "But if you were avoiding intercourse, how are you out?" Rooster looked slightly crazed now. "She licked me! She licked me three times and I came all over the fucking place! And now she's concerned that I should talk to my doctor about premature ejaculation! I was out there in the trenches, fighting for my life, and now she thinks I have a disorder!"

Hahaha can't 😂

Then the cutest girl he'd ever seen started hitting on him. "Can I buy you a drink?" she asked shyly, and he was putty in her hands.  An hour later they were kissing next to the jukebox. An hour after that, she was touching him under his shirt.  "Okay, I'm out guys! I had a good run! See you tomorrow!" he announced merrily as he left the bar with her.

Hahaha he is very realistic about his own abilities 😅

Hangman cradled his head in his hand. "Ihadawetdream." Phoenix howled and bent in half laughing, but the guys all stepped a little closer to hear him better. "Sorry, you what?" asked Coyote. 

😂😂😂

Bob smiled serenely at everyone. "Oh, I practice mindful meditation for stress relief. Plus, my wife has been in Europe for work all month, so it was quite easy." Bob jumped back as the guys all shouted at him in bewilderment. "You're married?!" 

This is the best ending 😅 not just that Bob won because he meditates for stress relief but the wife reveal at that 😂

I hope they have a great reunion after her month in Europe (who am I kidding everyone knows Bob is a pussy eating king lol)

No Nut November I Top Gun Dagger Squad edition

Summary: When left to their own devices for too long, the Dagger Squad aviators usually got up to no good.

Warnings: Humor, adult banter, smut, ridiculousness

Length: 1700 words

Pairing: a mention of Rooster x girlfriend and Payback x hookup

Check my masterlist for more!

When left to their own devices for too long, the Dagger Squad aviators usually got up to no good. As they finished a group run and headed into the gym for some weight training, one such conversation began to take form. 

“Halloween was fun last night,” Phoenix said with a yawn. “The Hard Deck was wild though.”

“Yeah,” Fanboy agreed, shaking his head as he got a bench press set up. “Crazy! But November is a way more chill month.”

Hangman snickered. “Chill? You think No Nut November is chill?“ 

Coyote shook his head as he did some squats. "It’s the roughest month of the year!”

Keep reading

[tofics]

You Owe Me - Part 1

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: Forced through circumstances out of your control to rely on Joel Miller, you end up traversing the country with him. You're not particularly enthralled with him, and neither is he with you - or so you think, until your period strikes, and you're practically bed-ridden. Or: Joel can't stop jerking off to you after he accidentally got a taste of your lips.

Warnings/tags: canon typical show/game violence, sort of dubious consent (reader gets kissed without being asked and only later agrees), age gap (reader is about ~25 years younger), enemies to lovers kind of, awful period + period cramps, jerking off, fluff

Word count: ~7.4k

Periods are not fun to begin with.

They're even less fun in a post-apocalyptic world, where sanitary products are hard to come by and more of a luxurious rarity than a given staple item in your average survivor's backpack.

You knew you were bound to begin your cycle eventually, and had you had more time, you'd probably have prepared yourself some way or the other. But, with the way things had gone in the past two weeks, you had not had any time to think about bodily functions beyond what your every day efforts demanded of you, and even that was hard to care for.

Ever since the night that you fled Boston's QZ, you hadn't had a proper night's rest, let alone a hearty meal to replenish your energy with. Your escape had been 'spontaneous' to say the least, a necessity brought upon by circumstances that you'd stumbled into rather than purposefully involved yourself in, and before you knew it, you were pointing your finger at Joel Miller, of all people in the world, hissing threats through gritted teeth about how he at least owed you this much if he was going to get you involved in his business without your consent and how you weren't gonna get hanged just because he'd dragged you into his bullshit.

Joel, of course, was not a man you could just point your finger at and demand things of, much less in a hissed tone, even less in the form of threats.

And yet, he'd smuggled you out of the city in a cloak-and-dagger-operation that same night, despite his hard glares and hushed warnings to keep your mouth shut. You'd been anything but prepared when he'd appeared at your side like a magician out of thin air. He'd laid his arm around your neck like a lover might on an evening stroll, but the gesture hadn't been kind, his arm too tight around your throat, pressing on your airway as he'd instructed you - commanded you - to follow him, like you'd have had any other choice with his arm wrapped around your neck like a boa constrictor, all the while a smile on his face that feigned nonchalance to possible onlookers. Nothing to see here, just two lovebirds on their way home after another long, hard day of work.

You'd shaken him off once the two of you were out of sight, ripped his arm off of your throat as you swiveled out of his headlock. "What the fuck, Joel," you'd hissed and he'd stared back at you with that same cold and hard look you knew him by. "Do you want out of the city or not?" His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his tone matching the iciness of his eyes. Your jaw tensed. The nerves of this guy. "The hell are you talking about?"

He scoffed like you were being dense. "Out. Flee the nest. Hit the damn road-" You cut him off with another pointed finger. "Don't be cute. I know what you mean. What I'm asking is, now?!" He eyed your finger like he was debating cutting it off if you jabbed it into his face one more time. His jaw ticked. "Yes, sweetheart, now." Your nostrils flared at the sarcastic tone of the nickname, but he gave you no time to interject. "Got tipped off. They're gonna do a raid tonight, hit everyone they know I'm involved with. Since you got all flustered about my - 'involvement' of yours-" "Oh, is that what you call that? Grabbing and kissing me out of the blue?" "-I figured I'd do you a solid by giving you a heads up," he talked over you, ignoring your comment entirely. You were seething. "Ever heard of a thing called 'consent', Joel?" He flicked his tongue, rolled his eyes. Clearly, he had no time to entertain your attitude. You didn't care. "It's when you ask someone if they wanna do something, and then only do it if they say yes. Now I know that concept might be a little hard to grasp for you-" You were slowly advancing on him, getting up all in his face, when his hand closed around your arm tightly. Your gaze fell down to his grip, your lower jaw pushing out slightly. His eyes flicked over your face like he was waiting for your next outburst. "Are you quite done? Cause we gotta go. Unless you'd like to stay and be questioned by FEDRA officers? I'm sure they'd be very interested in your lecture about consent." Joel's upper lip curled back in an ugly sarcastic smile.

And so you'd let him lead you through the city, begrudgingly at first and then bewildered when you realized you were heading in the opposite direction of your apartment. "What about my stuff?" He'd only shaken his head. "No time for that. We gotta go now. Got some backpacks waiting for us a couple blocks ahead."

He only realized you'd stopped walking when he was at least ten steps ahead. "You comin' or what?" You could tell by the tone in his voice that he was nearing the end of his patience, but as far as you were concerned, you were already at the end of yours. You didn't budge, just stared him down from where you stood, shooting icy daggers out of your eyes and your pursed lips quivering as insults swarmed in your head, all fighting to be let out at once. He looked back at you with dull disinterest in his eyes. "By all means, take your time. Ain't like we're on a clock here or somethin'."

"Oh, you son-of-a-bitch, you ignorant little cock-sucker, you absolute blithering idiot-" The stream of affronts sputtered out of you. Joel quickly closed the distance between the two of you and forcefully grabbed you by the arm, dragging you with him once more. "Walk and talk, yeah?," he said over your flood of offences, the jabs seemingly rolling off of him like water droplets against plastic. You kept up your clamor all the way down the next block, until he dragged you into yet another side-alley to avoid a group of FEDRA soldiers marching past.

The two of you stood closer together than both you and him would have liked. If it hadn't been for the parade of soldiers walking past you, you might've scratched his eyes out, something you made sure to convey with your eyes as you stared him down in silence. His indifference only fueled your rage. "Do you have any idea what you're asking of me?" You hissed at him when most of the parade had passed by. Joel wondered if he'd ever hear your normal tone-of-voice. "Come again?" He cocked his head. "The way I recall it, you asked me to get you out of the city, not the other way around. Now who's imposin' on who?"

He saw it coming before it was looming in his face again. That damn finger of yours, pointed right at his nose once more. His lips pursed, his hand twitched on the handle of the blade he kept concealed on his waist. Just one quick swipe. Your howls would likely attract the guards. Not worth it. Yet.

"We're only in this predicament because you couldn't keep your damn hands off of me!" You almost spat in his face, your voice all hoarse from trying to keep your shout down to a whisper. Your head looked like it was about to implode. Joel flicked his tongue again.

"You wanna discuss bygones again or you wanna get goin'? Time's not waitin' on us, sweetheart."

"Oufff." You growled in response, your finger so close to his face you'd take out an eye if he moved an inch in the wrong direction. "Get that thing out of my face," he finally snapped and smacked your hand down. "Now quit whinin'. You wanted out of the city, you're gettin' out of the city. Giddy up. Time's a' wastin'."

Without another look to check if you were following, he dipped out of the alleyway and marched down in the direction of his - your - first pit stop. You stood between the tight walls for another moment, breathing heavily. If FEDRA hadn't been breathing down your neck, you would've turned around on your heels and sent Joel off to whatever miserable adventure he was about to embark on, but alas, he'd made his miserable adventure yours against your will. You cursed under your breath, then hurried after him.

"All I'm saying is, what about my shit? You think I don't have any sentimentals at home? Necessities? Stuff I wanted to bring when I left?" You whispered to him as you kept up with his pace beside him. It could've been your imagination, but the people out on the street looked more hurried than usual. Something was definitely in the air. Joel's tip-off likely had been right. Something was brewing.

"You win some, you lose some," came his sullen reply, paired with a shrug. You had to stuff your comeback back down your throat as the two of you filed into the crowd of people heading home, hurried steps and hard, concerned faces all around you.

Escaping hadn't been easy. Every single guard had been on high-alert. It seemed that the tip-off must've come out - the number of guards had been tripled, and you and Joel had a hard time going by undetected, despite the added benefit of nighttime and the rain that had picked up, muffling your steps as you hurried from dark corner to dark corner.

The Firefly attack took him as much by surprise as it did you and the soldiers. The booming sound of an explosion just a few hundred feet ahead made you flinch and Joel instinctively pulled you down with him. Rubble rained down on the two of you, crashing into the muddied floor just inches besides you. You gasped and flinched away, losing your halt on all fours, but a strong arm caught you around the middle before you could slump to the ground. "Let's go," Joel urged in your ear and dragged you up to your feet in one swift motion.

Shouts erupted around you from all sides, then got droned out as FEDRA's sirens kicked up. You scrambled after Joel as he evaded spotlights that swiveled across the floor from all directions, keeping the two of you safely tucked away in the few shadows that remained. Smoke burned in your nose and lungs as you sprinted from safe haven to safe haven. Loud cracks cut through the uproar of your surroundings, accompanied by deep thudding sounds as more rubble fell to the floor. The fire from the explosion site was now spreading out, slowly licking at buildings in its path. Many of the decrepit structures quickly crumbled away under the heat, porous and unstable to begin with.

It was disorienting, frightening. For the first time in over a week, you were glad for Joel Miller. If it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't have made it out of the chaos alive.

Granted, if it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place, but he kept his word and got you out.

You'd never meant to stay with him, but as things would have it, you weren't presented with much of a choice in that either. You made it out of the city just fine, save for a few jump scares along the road, but then ran into a hoard of infected that had been attracted by the ruckus of the explosion, just a few miles outside of the quarantine zone.

How you made it through that encounter alive, you didn't know, you just knew that Joel was a more-than-worthy asset in that debacle, as much as you hated to admit it. As if that hadn't been enough, you barely had one peaceful night before a group of raiders pulled through the section of outskirts where you and Joel had holed up for the night. It was an 'out of the frying pan and into the fire' kind of turn of events that kept you and Joel running and fighting for your lives for almost two weeks straight, stumbling from one disaster into the next, until finally, finally, you seemed to leave your losing streak behind.

It had now been three whole days since the two of you had found yourselves in mortal danger last, and though it felt almost wrong to be hopeful for a peaceful stretch of days, you couldn't help but be just that.

Until, of course, you felt that familiar sharp pull in your abdomen.

Crap.

"You didn't happen to pack anything female-related when you packed this, did you?," you asked as you rifled through the contents of your backpack. Well, Joel's backpack really, since it was the one he'd bestowed upon you the night of your escape. Your own backpack was still back in Boston, probably picked apart by FEDRA by now, along with all of your other belongings.

"Like what?" Joel was poking at the fire he'd set out to build. The flames wouldn't quite take, a few feeble blue streaks dancing between the twigs he'd collected.

"Like, I don't know, a pad, maybe? Tampons, if I'm allowed to dream?" You had almost emptied out the entire backpack now, and even though the contents you were bringing to light were certainly useful, none of them were what you were looking for.

Joel looked up, a kind of perplexed look on his face. You took in his facial expression and sighed. "I'll take that as a no. Crap." You slumped down on your butt in defeat. "That's gonna be a problem."

Joel scratched behind his ear, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Yeah. Sorry, kiddo. Wasn't on my radar when I was packing." It could've been the dim light of the barely lit fire playing a trick on your eyes, but you could've sworn that some color rose in his cheeks. You just sighed once more and shrugged. "Eh, can't blame ya. Not something I'd expect to be on the mind of a..." You looked at him, eyebrow raised. "...something year old man."

He snorted. Sparks flew up from the twigs as he kept poking around. "Fifty-six," he said after a little while. "If you must know."

"Huh."

"What." He eyed you over the now growing flames. It looked like he was ready for you to pounce on him.

"Nothing." You raised your arms in defense. "Just... wouldn't have thought so. I just mean," you quickly added when you saw the expression on his face, "you've held up better than I would've thought. Jeez, relax. I'm not coming for your age."

"Right. Cause you ain't been jabbin' at me for just about anythin' else. S'cuse me if I'm just prepared."

"Cause you been jabbin' at me for just about anything else," you mocked under your breath. "And I got a right to. Need I remind you, I wouldn't be in this mess if-"

"-I hadn't dragged you into it." He interrupted you with a groan. "Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first trillion times. You ever gonna let it go?"

You scowled at him over the flames. "No." He quirked an eyebrow at you, and the exhausted apprehension on his face made you crack up. "Fine. Maybe. The jury's still out on that."

A day later, the sharp pull in your abdomen had grown into full-sized cramps, one of the four horsemen of your period riding in in full stride. You tried to ignore it as best as you could, but your period pains had always been on the worse side, sometimes leaving you crumpled into a ball on the floor. Your cramps could be debilitating, and a gnawing pit of worry formed in your stomach as the day went along.

Back in the QZ, you had your ways of coping: hot water bottles or hot potatoes wrapped in tinfoil tucked into a sweater so that their warmth radiated throughout your belly. There was even a bottle of emergency ibuprofen tucked away in a little secret corner of your bedroom. You longed for it now as the cramps begin to grow in intensity and longevity. You'd certainly planned to bring them along for your escape, but alas...

A groan escaped your lips as another cramp pulled on you from the inside. Your steps faltered and you leaned over for a moment with a hand pressed to your lower belly.

"Hey. You good?" Joel had been a few steps ahead of you, but he'd turned around at your groan. You'd been a trooper for the last two weeks, making him think more than once that getting you out hadn't been such a bad bet after all. You fought like hell, and when you weren't busy being mad at him, you followed orders quite well, especially when yours (or his) life depended on it.

Of course, he'd never say that out loud. You were still routinely giving him an earful about how he'd made you leave everything you owned behind, how you'd have had more time to properly prepare if he hadn't just dragged you into his mess, if he hadn't just kissed you that night-

You never missed a chance to remind him of all his wrongdoings, bickering on and on and on about the predicament you now found yourself in. As if he hadn't been the one to get you out. Sure, yeah, he did owe you as much after... having dragged you into his mess (his jaw clenched at the thought), but he'd paid his dues in full, as far as he was concerned. Hell, not only had he gotten you out in one piece, he'd even packed a whole get-away bag for you, survival essentials included. Had you thanked him for it? Certainly not. You hadn't complained about it either though, that was for sure, and Joel was certain that was about as much of a thanks as he was going to get from you.

You straightened, a somber and tight expression on your face as you nodded, but Joel could tell you were in more pain that you were letting on. Two weeks of fighting like crazy and just minutes of sleep to go on for days, and he hadn't heard a peep outta you. He had to give it to ya - you were tough, a fighter through and through. When you complained, it had nothing to do with where you slept, what you ate, who you fought. You just did it. He appreciated that quality in you. It made you a decent travel companion - if it wasn't for your bickering about everything else. That, he'd had decidedly enough of.

Today, though, you had been unusually quiet. You had yet to point an accusing finger at him, and though he could do without another finger pointed at his face for the rest of his life, he couldn't help but notice the change in your demeanor. Your pace was slower than the weeks before, even though you were now eating and sleeping better than you'd had in all previous fourteen days combined. Your movements seemed sluggish, almost lethargic, and you were hanging behind more often than not. This wasn't the first time you'd stopped either.

"We can rest for a moment, if you want." Joel gestured towards some trees on the side of the road. "Sit a moment in the shade. Catch our breath."

You looked like you were about to throw a snarky remark his way, but then you just nodded and trotted over to the patchy area of shade.

He sat down beside you with a groan, then stretched his aching legs out on the ground. Even if you thought he'd held up just fine, his legs certainly disagreed. If anything, they felt older than fifty-six. More like bordering on sixty.

Joel took a sip of his water, then nudged you with his elbow. You looked at him through hooded lids, exhaustion written all over your face. "Drink. Gotta stay hydrated."

Another wordless nod from you. No snarky comment. You got your own bottle out and gulped down a few sips.

"You sure you're good?" He eyed you carefully. There was a light sheen of sweat above your upper lip, some more pearls glistening on your forehead.

"I said as much, didn't I?"

Ah. There it was. Joel nodded. "There we go. Thought you were dyin' on me or somethin'."

You shot him a quizzical look.

"You haven't talked back to me all day. Was startin' to get worried," he shrugged with half a smile on his lips.

Your eyes narrowed at him. Joel Miller? Worried about you? Yeah, right. "What, you sweet on me or something, Miller?" A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Uh-huh. Glad to see you still got your wits about ya. C'mon." He got to his feet and dusted the dirt off his pants. "If you can jab, you can walk. Let's go."

You knew you had a couple of hours, maybe less, until hell's gates would open and the floods would come raining down your legs. Literally.

At least your periods were dependable that way, always following the same pattern.

Evening was fast approaching, and so was a town in the distance, just down the hill that you and Joel had just reached the top of. He raised a hand to his eyes, shielding his view from the evening sun that hung low on the horizon.

"Best bet is to go around it," he assessed, one hand on his hip. "No way to tell what's waitin' down there. Easier if we don't find out."

"Yeah, umh, about that."

He turned to you, a golden glow around the outline of his head. He looked like an angel. You blinked, cleared your throat.

"I need to find some cloth. Preferably clean, but anything will do, really. I know there's a spare shirt in my backpack, but I really don't want to cut it up..."

Joel frowned at you, visibly not understanding what you were getting at.

"Pads, Joel. I need to make pads. I'm about to start bleeding like a slit throat. I'm talkin' Niagara Falls."

He blinked, scratched behind his ear. "...right. Yeah. Okay."

It irked him that he hadn't thought of anything for your period. Granted, he hadn't had to deal with the topic in a long time, no woman in his life sticking around long enough (he made sure of that) that the topic could even come up. Still, he was a man who prided himself on being prepared, and he felt anything but as he helped you rummage through open and broken drawers to look for anything that might be useful.

You were tensing up more frequently now, pausing in whatever you were doing with shut eyes and a tight expression on your face. He knew what that meant, even if it had been a long time. You were cramping, and by the looks of it, quite hard.

Joel was irritated to find that he felt sorry for you. Though, no, that wasn't what irritated him. He may have been gruff and closed off on the outside, but he was still human after all, capable of empathy. What irritated him was the need he felt to alleviate your pain. More than once, he felt the urge to reach out and stroke your face, or worse even, to pull you into his arms into a comforting hug. Once, when your back was turned to him, he even saw his arm lifting on its own accord, and he had to bring it back down with his other hand before it made contact with you.

What the hell are you thinkin', he scolded himself. This ain't no more than a cargo run. She's cargo. Quit daydreamin'.

He scolded himself and then moved on, once, twice, thrice, until he had to tell himself off for the fourth time and he was beginning to get seriously pissed with himself. What was it with you that he kept thinkin' about touchin' you?

You were oblivious to his ordeal, having your own problems to deal with. You'd found some cloth that looked (and smelled) clean enough to be used as makeshift pads. Your hands made quick work of the fabric as you tore the old shirt into strips, then braided them into wider pieces until they roughly matched the length of the strip of fabric that connected the front of your panties to the back. Once that was done, you wrapped the braided piece fully around the bottom of a fresh pair of underwear, tying off the excess fabric when you had done so. It wasn't pretty, it was knobby and bound to be uncomfortable, but it was better than just wrapping pieces around the middle and hoping for the best. This way, you had a couple of layers underneath you, and if you didn't shuffle too much, the makeshift pad would perhaps stay in place. You sighed, inspecting your finished work. Behind you, Joel whistled. He sauntered over to inspect your work.

"Don't look too bad. You think this'll do?"

You eyed your handful of makeshift pads, a sorrowful look on your face. "It'll have to. But knowing my flow, I'll go through these in just a day - two, if I'm lucky..." Another wave of cramps tightened in your lower belly. You winced and leaned forward, one arm across your abdomen. A warm hand appeared on your shoulder.

"Tell you what. This town don't seem too dangerous. How 'bout we try and find a place here for tonight? Hm? Sleep in a real bed for a change?"

Joel didn't need to ask twice. You seemed more than relieved that your journey today would go no further than a couple of houses down the street, which was where you found a suitable candidate to spend the night in.

It had probably been a beautiful townhouse once, back in the day, complete with a white picket fence and a front- and backyard to show for. Now, though, the garden was overgrown, the fence was hanging in pieces, paint littering off its remaining poles, and the house itself looked sad and empty, as if it was mourning the loss of its previous inhabitants.

Unlike the rest of the houses on the street though, this building seemed to have all its walls intact. That, and the fact that your steps were getting slower by the minute, was enough for Joel to declare this house as your designated sleeping spot for the night.

The two of you did a quick sweep of each room, making sure everything was safe and sound. It was strange how quickly a routine could settle between two people who'd been nothing but strangers just barely three weeks ago. It wasn't the first time this thought occurred to you either: yours and Joel's movements seemed to almost flow into one another as you cleared the house from bottom to top. It felt a little like you could anticipate his next move before he announced it, and vice versa. He'd even said as much to you after the first week of the two of you fighting for y'all's asses, talking about how maybe you weren't as much of a princess as he'd initially thought. You'd just rolled your eyes at the comment, but there had also been a feeling of pride settling in your chest that you'd been unable to ignore.

It came like you'd said it would. Not long after you had dropped yourself on one of the worn-out sofas in the living room, you felt a particularly harsh cramp cutting through your abdomen, before something warm trickled out of you. You groaned silently to yourself. So it had begun.

Joel watched you from the armchair next to the couch. He was using the last couple of hours of decent daylight to take stock of his backpack, checking it for tears and what not, taking inventory of his ammo and cleaning and sharpening his weapons. Besides the fact that it had to be done, it gave him something to do. Made him feel like he was doing something sensible, practical.

He didn't like to admit it to himself, but watching you writhe in pain on the couch beside him didn't sit right with him. Even though it had nothing to do with a lack of care on his side, he somehow, against all logic, felt responsible for how crappy you were feelin'. It didn't help either that kept tellin' himself off for it. Ain't none of yer business, he kept repeating in his head and re-focused on sharpening the blade in his hand, right before glancing back at you when you'd moan again in pain.

You were definitely going through it. Once the dam had broken, so to say, there was nothing you could do but lay on the couch and wallow in self-pity. By now, the cramps had settled into a steady churning pain that had settled in your abdomen like a straight line, going from one of your tubes to the other. Your lower back felt like something was trying to break through it from both sides, forming an immense pressure that spread up the rest of your back. As if that wasn't enough, your neck was tense, rock hard and unforgiving, uncomfortable in whatever position you brought yourself into. And then of course, there was the bleeding itself, and the occasional harsher cramp that pulled through your entire abdomen.

You were certainly going through it, and the last two weeks had been too demanding. When a cramp cursed through you, you didn't hold back your whimpers. You just didn't have it in you to care. Joel could think whatever he wanted - no uterus, no opinion, that was as far as your thinking went in regards to him as you laid on the couch and wallowed in pain.

You had to give it to him, though. He was being remarkably quiet about your whole ordeal. You'd expected some dry comments, something about pulling yourself together, woman, you're not dying, but so far, there had been none of that, not even a distasteful scoff at your moans. You did see him looking at you from time to time, and it must've been your hazy mind, but you could've sworn he looked almost sorry for you. Almost.

Hours passed, and your pain didn't let up, if anything, it only intensified. While darkness slowly settled over everything outside, you did anything but on the couch. You turned and tossed with every new wave of pain, trying with all your might to find at least one position that alleviated your pain, but nothing helped. You had just flipped yourself over on your stomach with a groan, burying your face in one of the cushions when Joel spoke up behind you.

"Alright, enough. C'mon."

There was a light tap on your leg, then a more determined nudge when you didn't move. "Hey, c'mon. Move."

You just groaned into your pillow. I ain't movin' nowhere, it meant, but then your legs were being picked up and slowly lowered, until your knees touched the ground. Begrudgingly, and with a very fed-up expression on your face, you lifted your head from the pillow to shoot icy daggers at Joel, who was now kneeling beside you.

"Don't gimme that look," he grumbled. "Just tryin' to help ya. C'mon." He motioned at the sofa cushion. "Put your head down, get comfortable. N' put your knees a bit more together, so I can fit behind you. There you go." He instructed you until you were kneeling in front of the couch how he wanted to, your head resting on your arms on the sofa cushion. Attagirl. He shimmied behind you with some difficulty, his old knees not cooperating with him as fast as they once did, but then he finally sat behind you in a position similar to yours.

"What'cha doin," he heard you murmur into the cushion and promptly shushed you. "Shh. You about to see. Now don't freak, but you about to feel my hands on you."

You had no idea what the hell he was getting up to, but you didn't have the strength to care. For all you cared, he could've taken you off the chessboard in this very moment, and you wouldn't have minded. Everything hurt too much. It was all you could focus on.

You felt Joel's large hands on your waist, then your shirt being lightly pulled up. "Hey! What-"

You did turn around at that, furrowed brows and all, only to be met with Joel's fed-up stare. "You trust me or not?"

It took a moment, but eventually you put your head back down, not without your lips drawing into a pout. Course, you trusted him by now. Even if you didn't like it very much.

Joel waited until your head was settled on the cushion again, then he brought up your top a bit, folding it over once so it'd stay up over your tailbone. It had been a while, since he'd done this - hell, a long, long while - but he couldn't sit by no more and watch you toss and turn in pain. He'd had about enough of that.

He laid his palms flat on your waist, letting you get acclimated to his touch first so you wouldn't turn around and bite his head off once more in a second. Then, when he felt like a good enough time had passed, he lightly lifted his thumbs and pressed them down on your lower back, your tailbone right in the middle of them. Carefully, he brought his thumbs upwards, drawing two straight lines into your skin while keeping his pressure firm.

Your response was almost immediate. Joel could see your tense shoulders going down just a smidge, your back relaxing as you let out an elongated 'oh' sound, accompanied by a deep sigh. "Attagirl," he murmured, one corner of his lips slightly quirking up. "Just relax into it. I got you." He kept repeating the motion, digging his thumbs into your lower back to bring you some relief. A picture of how he'd once done the same for Sarah's mother flit across his brain. He quickly shook his head, dismissing the memory as quickly as it had appeared.

It felt like heaven, how Joel was working his thumbs over your aching back. It did nothing to alleviate your pain in the front, but it still felt a million times better than tossing and turning on the worn out cushions of this dusty couch. Just like you hadn't held back with your moans of pain, you were now not holding back your moans of enjoyment. You'd never felt anything quite like it before. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

You heard Joel chuckle quietly behind you. "I know a thing or two, kiddo. Been around the block once or twice."

You just hummed in agreement, then let out a load moan once more as his fingers dug into a specifically delicate spot. "Fuck, Joel. Yeah. Right there."

Joel was just glad you had your head buried in the cushions of the sofa. Otherwise you would've seen what your moans were doing to him, and boy, were they doing a number on him. He'd been able to ignore your first few moans of pleasure, biting down hard on his tongue and closing his eyes to focus, but then his mind started projecting pictures onto his closed lids of you, below instead in front of him, making those same sweet sounds of pleasure while he touched you elsewhere -

His eyes flew open and he grunted, willing the pictures away with all his might. He tried staring at his hands instead, but that was a dumb idea, seeing as how he could see your delicate skin being worked underneath his thumbs then, his fingers drawing out another moan from your lips -

Next was the wall. He could've drilled holes into the flaky wallpaper, with how hard he was staring at it. He could feel the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment and he could only hope, pray that you wouldn't turn around anytime soon to see how your moans were visibly affecting him, specifically in his crotch area.

"Fuck, oh my god, right there, Joel." Your voice was breathy and needy, and Joel's eye twitched. The hell had he gotten himself into with this?!

He prodded your back, trying to find the spot you'd just referred to. "Right here, sweetheart?"

He saw your head bob as you nodded, a satisfied hum vibrating through you. "Mhh, yeah. That's - oof - that's the spot."

He was digging himself his own grave, that much was for certain right now. He knew he should've stopped, should've went back to his armchair and returned to working on his gun, but he couldn't. It was like he was transfixed, glued in position like a fly to a trap. The whimpers falling from your mouth were too good to pass up, to sweet to resist. He hadn't had anything sweet in such a long time. And Joel was dying for a treat.

But he also knew it wasn't right. He knew it now and he knew it then, those few weeks ago when he'd grabbed you outside of your apartment and had kissed you out of the blue. You'd been shocked to say the least. The FEDRA guards had been on his heels and he'd needed to find a way to disperse of them quickly, and there you were, conveniently placed in his path like a lucky find, and his brain had snapped and he'd just gone for it. Pulled you into a kiss like you were his, hands flying up to your face to hold you in place. Your eyes had grown wide in shock and he'd briefly pulled his lips from yours to whisper to you. Work with me, please, I'll make it worth your while. His heart had drummed in his chest, a million silent prayers tumbling from his lips in the milli-second that it took you to subtly nod. A brief grin had flit over his lips before he'd crashed them back down on yours, kissing you like he'd been waiting to do so all day. And my god, had you worked with him. Your own hands had flown up to his head, one curling around the base of his neck and the other digging into his hair. He'd backed you up against the wall behind you, slowly walking you backwards until your back collided with the weathered bricks, and you had actually moaned into his mouth, much like you were doing now. It had sent his head reeling, and though Joel was not a man of faith, he'd briefly thanked whatever God he had seemingly pleased enough to allow him this sweet of a distraction.

The guards had trampled around the corner then, their heavy footsteps a stark contrast to the sweet moans falling from your lips. They'd cleared their throat - ahem - and Joel had unwillingly detangled himself from you enough to cast a look at them over his shoulder. What? A man can't make out with his girl in the street? Their eyes had wandered from you to him, and he saw then what they were seeing: a man in his mid-fifties pressing a what, late twenties? Early thirties? woman to the wall, her face all flustered, hair disheveled from where Joel's hands had dug into it. He'd seen the envy plastered on their faces, heard the murmurs. Lucky bastard. A triumphant grin had played around his lips, even though he knew he was treading on thin fucking ice. That he was indeed, a lucky bastard.

His luck had only lasted so long, though. When the guards had disappeared, he all but saw lucky stars in his eyes when you invited him up to your apartment. Was he really going to get that lucky?

Heavens, no. He'd been brought down back to earth swiftly when you had stood in front of him, crossed arms and expectant look on your face. So? What was that? He shrugged nonchalantly. What was what?

You, though, as he quickly came to learn, were not to be underestimated. You made him tell you in detail why the guards had been after him, then practically foamed at the mouth when he reluctantly explained what he'd been up to that afternoon.

It hadn't even been that big of a deal, just a casual, run-of-the-mill drug run, but you didn't seem to share his sentiment. Casual? Run-of-the-mill? He'd had to shush you from how loud you were screeching. Didn't you know the damn walls had ears?

My god, you could talk. Bicker, was the more fitting term. Or nag, really. You went on and on about how he'd went and done it now, how he'd fucked up your life, all because he had to go and get you involved in something that you had absolutely no interest in -

That was the first time your finger had flown into his face, all accusing and threatening, like you could do him any harm with just the tip of your index finger. Boy, had he been tempted to smack it out of his face. But he didn't. As much as he hated to admit it - you had a point. By putting you on the map as his lover, he had likely put you in a lot more danger than you were even realizing at the moment.

He'd tried to put you out of his mind. Even after you had made him promise to get you out of the QZ as a 'reward' - You owe me, Joel Miller - he'd tried not to think about you, not until his next run out of the city at least, which is when he planned to make good on his promise. Until then, he wouldn't think about you. You'd just turn into another headache, another problem he'd have to deal with, and he had enough of those as it was. Not to mention that he was almost twice your senior. He didn't have many principles anymore, but he still had some. And hell if he didn't at least stick to those anymore.

He kept his resolve up for all but two hours, when he was back in his apartment, laying in his bed and unable to sleep. You kept drifting through his mind, bickering and foaming at the mouth and red in the face, telling him how he'd went and fucked up your life, but more than that how your lips had felt on his, how sweet your mouth had tasted, how delicious your moans had sounded in his ear -

Fuck it. Joel growled and shoved his hand into his boxers. He'd rub one out to you, just once. Surely that would get you off his mind.

Well, it did, sort of. Until he was in bed again the next night, and he found himself with his cock in his hand once more, thinking about your lips and how they'd felt on him, and how they'd feel wrapped around his cock instead of his own hand -

He groaned as his release painted over his stomach, white silken strands mixing with the soft curls on his belly as he silently cursed you, then himself. The hell had he gotten himself into?

So of course he'd had no choice but to come and get you when he got intel that he was the subject of the upcoming raid, that very night. He barely had time to prepare two backpacks with the bare necessities before he went out to find you.

How all of that had brought him here, kneeling behind you as the sweetest moans fell from your mouth once more - he didn't know. Joel couldn't tell whether you were a blessing or a curse, if you were the price he had to pay or the price he received. Seeing as how his life had gone though, it was unlikely that you were the latter.

And yet he couldn't help but feel like he'd won when he brought his thumbs down on on the sides of your lower spine and earned a low moan in return, long and elongated and putting all kinds of pictures into his mind that his head momentarily fell to his chest, a pained expression painted across it.

No, no. You were both. A blessing and a curse.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Credits: plant divider by @strangergraphics

A/N: Well, here we are. Like I said, the idea for this was born while needing comfort on my own period, and then this monstrosity flowed from my fingertips and eventually I realized that perhaps, 9.3k words were perhaps a bit too much for a oneshot, especially when said oneshot wasn't complete yet. Ahem. So! Here you have the first half of what is undoubtedly going to turn into a filthy, filthy second part. 🙃 I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, I was kicking my feet giggling while writing this, lol.

No pressure taglist:

@peekyourinterest @vickie5446 @noisynightmarepoetry @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @picketniffler

@frogsdeservelovetoo @orcasoul @ashleyfilm @elli3williams @missladym1981

@spotty-boo90 @iamsherlocked-1998 @axshadows @justajoelsreader @oldmenenthusiast

[yanmuffins]

Hey there

Im actually gonna talk about your other series

I'm super curious for the yandere Batfam dynamic was they find our reader is a vampire, I kinda like the idea of reversing the typical vampire creepiness and instead of us, is the Batfam that really enjoy feeling the reader drinking their blood and each one figure out a way to convince reader.

For example let's say Cassandra manages to figure out which days your instincts are at the strongest so those days she always makes sure it's her turn to stay in the manor to keep guard and make sure you don't escape while the others are doing vigilante stuff

context.

oooooh vampire! reader ask!!! mild spoilers for future fic, gotham by night.

i'm honestly so excited to see where this story will go. this reader will not only have to deal with batfam issues, but also being introduced to a completely new world of vampires and deal with sire issues on top of daddy issues. she's having a great time (not)!

but tbh, i don't think reader would drink the batfam's blood. she would find the idea of feeding on her family extremely gross, and unnecessary, since there's other methods out there. it could be a last-resort thing, if she was starving and close to frenzy, but even then that would be something she would hate to do, as there is a risk of killing them accidentally.

and one of the main conflicts in this fic is yandere! platonic! batfam just not understanding (obviously, since they've never been exposed to it) the richness and intricacies of vampire culture, practices and social dynamics, leading to them to mishandle reader and her new condition as a vampire pretty badly. not only that, but batfam essentially kidnapping reader from her sire (who had also kidanpped her btw) messes up her self-discovery process as a vampire. oh, and a possible masquerade breach! disastrous.

but i can see the batfamily starving reader on purpose, to get her to drink their blood, saying it's safer for her to get used to drinking from her family so she doesn't feel tempted to attack innocent civilians. and she's yelling that that's not how any of this works, but they won't listen. yup, that's diabolical.

you see, this concept pretty much follows v*mpire t*e m*squ*rad* mechanics. and according to established lore, we have a variety of predator types: one of them being bagger, referring to vampires who prefer to consume blood through blood bags instead of live human bodies. this would be convenient for both reader and batfam, but mostly batfam since they could just arrange reader an endless supply of blood bags with ease.

we also have consensualists, who do not feed against their victim's free will (the lines of consent and free will might still be murky, lest they straight up admit they're a vampire looking for blood and won't you please spare some) and sirens, who seduce their victims! i'm not entirely sure which predator type vampire! reader will be, but i'm leaning heavily towards bagger, meaning she doesn't have a preference for biting necks. but who knows?

to be fair, it's a big adjusment for batfam. you were being weird before you got kidnapped (and embraced), and it takes a while and reader almost going into frenzy (aka vampiric reaction to situations of extreme stress, like starvation) for them to find out, holy shit, she's a fucking vampire now! that's what happened! and they can't just... let you go. the situation is complicated. the person who turned you is still out there, and you're unpredictable, and this wouldn't have happened if they just paid more attention to you! so let them keep you safe (captive) and provided for.

ALTERNATIVELY, deviating a bit from the original concept where reader is taken by her sire and then taken by the batfam straight back into captivity, we could have reader being so neglected and ignored in the family that they just don't notice she's been turned, and she gets time to go through a complete change in personality and confidence, and involve herself with the social and political webs of vampire society that wants to establish itself in gotham. it's not drastically different direction for this concept to go, because either way reader will be thrown in the world of darkness (ha), except here the kidnapping happens after she comes contact into it and in the paragraph above it happens before.

reader escapes them either way, cause she's a vampire ofc, and the batfam didn't have enough time and info to prepare and keep reader sufficiently trapped. they'll keep an eye on her, though.

either way, there's room for yandere madness, dark content, neglectful batfamily drama, sociopolitical vampire drama, vampire! reader being cunty, and all that in both ideas, which aren't that different, really.. i'm not sure! sorry for rambling. it's still a work in progress but i'm very excited for it.

[restinslices]

LKBS W/ A Quiet Kid

Finally getting back to requests :D. I put more focus on certain parts so it's not a copy and paste for each brother. Reread The Hunger Games recently so I imagined the kid being similar to Rue in behavior. Here you go @notbojack

He so fucking fine, omfg-

Back to the topic at hand, Tomas wasn’t the only kid his father took in

Shortly before his death, his father brought you home - a 12 year old kid who clung to him like wet tar

How did this come to be? Um, I’m imagining a situation where you were sent to kill his dad but he was like “naur, join us” and you did. Idk gang. It’s 11/6, I’m discombobulated

As we know, his father died. Now, Bi-Han is an asshole but he has limits. He wasn’t just gonna throw you out on the streets

Honestly I think he doesn’t mind how quiet you are

He’s not much of a talker either, so ya’ll just sit by each other

It’s kinda hard for him to understand your situation at first. After all, he’s a trained assassin. He’s been training since the day he could walk. To him, an assassin’s life is normal

Once his father is dead, taking care of you becomes his responsibility. This means that now he really has to be face to face with you during your worst moments

He’s woken up one day to the most awful screaming he’s ever heard. He can hear the strain on the vocal cords. It leads him to your room and he sees you screaming your head off in your sleep

He immediately wakes you up, expecting you to relax. Instead, you try to fight him off and claw yourself away from him. Only after reminding you who he is and a lot of convincing you that you’re safe and at home, you finally relax

You tremble next to him while apologizing profusely and that’s when he realizes something

This is the first time he’s ever heard your voice

I think this is when it'll really hit him how fucked your situation was. He was trained to be an assassin, yeah, but he still had free will

He's not the best at emotions, but I think he'd try for you

I wouldn't expect some long and deep talk about your past, but he'd watch over you more. He becomes very observant and takes note of your triggers

He's still strict, but he doesn't yell at you

I can see you jumping after he accidentally yells at you and he's like "ykw? I just might be the problem-"

Doesn't do it again

You have random spasms because of electrocutions. I can see him trying to find a way to help

He lets you trail behind him like you're his shadow

He absolutely will NOT say your trigger words

He thinks having your skills is something you should keep and improve on, even if they came about in an unpleasant way

You gotta fight for the Lin Kuei but I don't think he's ever like "go kill for me soldier!"

It's more like a... A uhhh "hey! We're going on a field trip! :D"

Idk if he'd ever ask if you'd like to sleep in his bed (he likes his space. "I GOTTA PUT ME FIRST LUCIOUS!") but I can see him being fine sleeping in the same room

Bi-Han and Sektor are your new parents

Overall, I think Bi-Han would be the best when it comes to handling triggers. You don't have to be a 10/10 social person to be helpful. He's just really observant and contrary to popular belief, isn't a complete evil dick head.

Y'all that's literally me next to him

"Aren't you black?" mind your business

Speaking of marriage, Kuai Liang meets you because you're a kid Harumi took in

I can see Harumi trying to introduce the two of you and you are NOT having a good time

He tries to introduce himself to you, but the second he steps close, you take off

He knows some kids are shy but this catches his attention. This ain't just shyness

"WHO THE FUCK FUCKED UP THIS HOUSE LIKE THIS? GOOD GOD!”

Harumi gives him the scoop thankfully

He's glad Harumi found you but damn, he wishes that never happened to you

He continues to try and be nice to you, but you either don’t say anything or take off

He isn’t really sure what to do at this point. Ya’ll are making no progress

This changes when one day he sees you sitting somewhere, scribbling in a book

You jump when you see him, dropping your book. He goes to grab it for you and that’s when he sees the amazing sketches inside

He’s not the type to flip through without permission. He looks at the open page and compliments that

“You like drawing?” *Nods* “These are really good!” *Shakes head* “Hey, I mean it. These are great”

He hands you your book back and you actually smile at him

*Hacker voice* I’m in-

You still stand behind Harumi, but you don’t look as scared of him as you did before

He notices you staring at him a lot, but he doesn’t say anything

Then one day you come up to him, book in hand

Which really surprises him because you never approach him

His mouth drops when you show him the drawings you’ve done of him

Your relationship continues to grow from this. He’s not sure how complimenting you on your artistic skills made you less afraid of him, but he’ll take it

He’s constantly encouraging you to keep being creative

He won’t look through your sketchbook without permission. He likes when you both look at your drawings together

Best believe he’s putting your drawings up like a proud father (if you let him)

I can see him learning basic sign language for you. Otherwise he speaks and you write things down

Ya’ll know that TikTok trend where two people paint portraits of each other? That but with Kuai Liang

His is awful but you put it up in your room anyway. This really squeezes at his heart

If you have other creative hobbies, such as writing, he encourages that too

Reads anything you’ll give him

I don’t think Kuai Liang is an artistic person in the sense that I don’t think he draws or writes in his spare time, but I think he still appreciates art

The father that stepped up

I don’t think he’d ask about your past much either. He doesn’t wanna push you. Whenever you’re ready to share, he’ll be there to listen

The little pieces you do share, he definitely remembers

Overall, I think Kuai Liang would handle the quiet and artistic aspect really well. He’s patient enough to continue trying to make an effort with you. Once you’ve opened up, he doesn’t take it for granted

My favorite white man

Pls make more gifs of him. Omg

I can see Tomas meeting you through a mission

It was supposed to be a simple “kill bad guys” mission but oh shit, there’s a child here

Now how he gets you outta there? Um… he beats your ass :D

Just a lil beating, then he takes you to Liu Kang in hopes that he can fix whatever is going on in your brain

Liu Kang is able to free your mind because god shit, but he says you gotta stay at the academy so he can keep an eye on you

Tomas should’ve been able to let you go, but for some reason he just couldn’t

He asks Liu Kang for updates on you, then eventually he just decides to visit in person

Now, considering Tomas is the one that saved you, and the academy isn’t a torture dungeon, I don’t think you’d be super alarmed when you see him

You just kinda stand there

He introduces himself, then tries to start small conversation and let you know that you’re safe now. You write you responses down on a notepad, which is odd but he’ll take it

“Do you have any family?” [No] “There’s gotta be someone out there missing you right now. You sure you can’t remember where they are?” [They’re dead. All of them]

Do I smell twinsies?!

Tomas knows the pain of losing loved ones and feels sad for you. He shares his story about how he lost his family. He doesn’t expect you to share what happened to yours, but he wants you to know that you’re not alone

This is where your bond starts. Maybe feeling safe in someone because of shared trauma is a bit wonky, but who cares?

He continues visiting you and chats with you. He tells you more about his family when you ask him to

Then comes the reveal

[I’m a bad person] “What? Why would you say that?” [I’ve killed people] “So have I” [I killed my family]

You write this long explanation, explaining that your first mission was to kill your immediate family

He’s shocked for sure, but he doesn’t blame you

He reminds you that you were just a child. Hell, you still are a child! You were also tortured and mind controlled. You didn’t want to do any of the stuff you were forced to do

[I miss them but I don’t think I’m allowed to] “Yes you are”

He couldn’t imagine carrying that much guilt around. Sure, he feels guilty about his family, but he didn’t kill them. He couldn’t imagine having memories of him killing the people he loves, and being forced to live with it

Tomas is very open with you about his own guilt and how he works to move on

It won’t be an easy journey, but he’s never giving up on you

Tomas becomes a friend, a mentor, an older brother (or father) all wrapped in one

When I tell you he’s never going to abandon you, I mean that shit. He’ll be by your side in everything and refuses to leave

He shares tips on grieving and guilt

Once you’re ready, he even takes you to your family’s gravesite

He lets you take all the time you need because he knows how badly you need this

Recovery is never an easy road. Tomas knows this from first hand experience. Doesn’t matter though because Tomas is always gonna be there to lift you up when you fall

Overall, Tomas would handle the guilt aspect the best. He has his own experience when it comes to losing family and guilt, so he’d understand how you feel

I feel like I keep giving Tomas the least amount of words, and that is not on purpose. I just be tired by the time I get to him😭. I still love you pookie

[cassiewritessalot]

no one noticed

pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader

summary: jj met reader at a bonfire at the start of the summer, as they got closer over the past few weeks, reader invites jj to midsummers excited to see where the night would take them, or if they could survive the night.

warnings: vulgar language, underage drinking and smoking, i think that's all, lmk if i missed anything!

cassie’s note: first jj post, and hopefully there will be many more in the future!! tysm for all the love & appreciation so far, i adore all of you seeing this. with love always, cassie <3.

you met jj at a boneyard party 3 weeks ago, you remember that night as if it were yesterday,

you were walking with your friend around the boneyard trying to get her away from drinks that would intoxicate her more than she already was. as you were walking she stumbled into a gorgeous blonde boy.

"i'm so sorry about her, she's fucking wasted.. are you good?" you ask the mystery boy. he shakes his head, a giggle leaving his mouth, "no worries, i'm good cutie." he gives you a smile before asking, "but for real, you're gorgeous, would you want to hangout when you're friend isn't bumping into me?" making you two laugh at your friend who stumbled away, finding more liquor along the way. "that would be amazing, i'm y/n by the way." you extend your hand out the shake jj's slightly sweaty ones. "y/n.. beautiful, just like you. i'm jj!" he says excitedly. you and jj continue to talk and walk together for most of the night and exchange numbers.

as the weeks passed by you and jj got extremely close, he didn't mind the fact that you're a kook and you didn't mind the fact that he was a pogue. as the hangouts increased, you felt you're feelings for jj increase as well. the fact that he flirted absentmindedly didn't help at all, he was always calling you 'mama', 'princess, 'baby' or anything that came to his mind, anything besides your name. as time passed by, your parents were pressuring you into finding a date for the midsummers, they also knew about jj and thought it would be a good idea if he came along with you guys, as you had your parents permission you decided to text jj, waiting anxiously for his response.

when jj saw your message appear on his screen, he felt a grin spread across his face.

hey jay, hope ur good :) i was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the midsummers this year? lmk!

as soon as he read your message, he immediately made up his mind. jj would go anywhere you go, he always wanted to be with you and would start missing you the second he drops you home and you wish him goodnight. however, jj had his doubts, making the grin on his face falter. what would the other kooks think about you for bringing jj to an event like that. it might not mean much to you but it means a lot to jj to make a good impression.

hey princess, 'course i'll go with you. but are you sure you want a pogue at a kook event? i don't think i have anything to wear to something like that

jj was surprised to see you tyoing away as soon as he sent the message.

don't worry about any of that, i got you a suit and shoes, just bring your cute self along, thank you jay really. it means a lot to me.

jj felt his faltered smile return back to the grin it had before, feeling giddy inside at your message. knowing that you want him to be there with you makes him feel a certain way.

anything for you princess, and thx for the suit ;)

after jj sends the last text, he all of a sudden, cannot stop thinking about the midsummers, he feels excited. excited to see you, how you’d look, what you’d be wearing, how you would act with him there. you were the only thing running through his thoughts at the moment.. but that has been a daily thing since he met you at the boneyard a couple of weeks ago.

- timeskip to the day of the midsummer -

as the day of the midsummer has arrived, jj had gone to your house early in the morning to get ready. your mom was especially excited about jj attending with you all, as this is the first year that you’ll have a date to the midsummer. while jj and your dad got ready together, which was a bonding moment that jj very much needed, you and you your mother did your makeup together.

“so.. you excited to go with jj?”, your mother asked as she brushed out her h/c hair. “definitely, i feel really good about him.”, you reply as you apply concealer to your face, maroon seeping into your cheeks with a knowing smile spreads across your face.

your mother notices the look on your face and smiles sweetly at you, “i have a good feeling about him too honey, so does your dad. but if this ends like how the whole-“ you cut your mom off before she could finish the sentence. “stop it mom, jj isn’t like that at all.” you say as you finish blending out your concealer. “i know, just please be careful cookie.”, your mom gives you a look, a look of care, a look you know all too well. you smile and hold out your pinky and she smiles and interlaces hers with yours. as you two got finished with hair and makeup, you slip into your dresses.

you’re wearing a satin baby blue dress, with nude heels, a pearl necklace and flower crown. as you got jj’s suit, you got him a suit in the exact same shade as your dress so everyone knows that you’re matching. your mother and yourself make your way downstairs to find your boys all dolled up and waiting for you.

as you make your way towards jj, his hands interlace with yours. “well don’t you look handsome,” you say as you spin the boy around, making the two of let out a laugh. “you look absolutely breathtaking, mama.” he said, making you flushed with the nickname, but also making you confused as now you have no idea where you and jj stand. as the two of you converse more, your parents let you know it’s time to leave and the two of you follow them to the car.

once you arrived at the cameron’s summer home for the midsummer event, your parents leave the car and you turn to jj who is noticeably strained with nervousness, you tap his shoulder and he turns to look at you. his tense eyes now soft as they fall onto your e/c one’s.

“you okay jay?”, you ask the blonde haired boy, “yeah i- i just don’t know what to expect.”, he replies as his eyes fall down to his hands and he starts picking at his nails. you place your hand on his hands to stop him from fidgeting. “you’ll be with me the entire time i promise, don’t worry.”, you tell the boy with a smile on your face, seeing you smile instantly makes jj smile. the two of you exit the vehicle and walk into the party, you see a few familiar faces and greet them. as you’re walking around, jj spots kiara and pope, he turns to you silently asking if you can go to them and you nod your head with a laugh and watch jj leave to talk to his friends. once jj leaves you turn in your spot to find a drink.

as jj, pope and kie are talking, they notice rafe, topper and kelce coming towards them. “what’s a bitch-ass pogue like you doing here huh, jj?” topper laughs with rafe and kelce while pointing at jj. “y/n invited him for you information.” kiara defended jj knowing that his patience was low. “wow look at you kiara defending this wanna-be.” kelce laughs while putting his arm around jj who quickly shakes it off. “i’m sorry- did you say y/n?” rafe asks kiara who nods her head in response. “wow didn’t know that slut had it in her.” rafe hummed as he turned to look back at where you were, the comment making jj’s patience go down the drain, he walks up to rafe and roughly grabs him by the collar of his shirt. “the fuck did you just call her?” jj asks in a rough voice, anger laced in his eyes. “jj stop!” kiara and pope try to intervene but jj wasn’t having it, he wasn’t going to let someone like rafe disrespect you like that. “let me go, you fucker!”, rafe screams at jj, jj then removes his hands roughly and wants to walk away before kelce makes the first move and punches jj in the jaw, making him lose his balance a bit.

“stay in your lane bro!” kelce screamed before jj punches him in the gut making him fall and jj gets ontop of him, punching the kid everywhere. the 2 pogues and 2 kooks start yelling at the two, gaining attention of the other party attendees. as you looked up at the scene you could see jj on the floor and immediately made your way over to the group, pope and rafe managed to separate kelce and jj from one another, “jj! what the hell happened.” you ask the boy who was still keeping his eye on kelce and rafe. “i’ll tell you what happened, that bitch thinks it’s okay to call you names!”, jj screams, but not at you, at rafe. you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and wanted to ask more until you noriced jj’s bleeding jaw. you eyes widened at the sight and before you could ask anything kiara and pope were following jj away from the midsummer. you started to follow them aswell, not knowing where they were going, but you wouldn’t leave them alone until you spoke to jj, you look back at the midsummer one last time for you parents. when you find them they do nothing but smile and mouth the word, ‘go.’

you returned their smile before following jj, kiara and pope to who knows where.

[catbountry]

Re: your reblog: No idea why a lot of men don't want anything to do with a movement that was regularly comparing them to bowls of poisoned M&Ms. It'll forever be a mystery

Oh fuck, that fucking post.

Like, look. I understand the importance of communicating why women might be intimidated by men. But that was such a bad comparison. I remember it being circulated by the kinds of people I was hanging out with who would wind up becoming increasingly right-wing, and it felt like every single time there was some sort of poorly articulated point about the fear that gets ingrained into us, it would just push these guys further and further away. This is purely anecdotal, but I was in a discussion with some guys in a server who said that they'd talked with multiple guys who were just kind of vaguely anti-woke not because of any deeply held principles, but because someone on the left was mean to them or disparaged them. In nerd spaces especially, these are guys who were likely already ostracized in school for being weird and are looking for, well, a safe space. And when perceived outsiders (other nerds who are demographically different from them) come in and try and make a space more inclusive, make it safer, and call anybody who objects a bad person... there's a really big social element to that. Like yeah, there's probably misogyny or racism or homophobia that could be unpacked, but those are things you can unlearn. And the best way for these guys to unlearn these behaviors is just through contact with people who are different from them with whom they have positive experiences. It's not the whole process, mind, but it's a good first step. And simply telling someone off for being bad when they might not even fully understand why it is that they have objections will succeed in getting rid of those guys from your spaces, but where do they go from there? Not the diverse and inclusive spaces we would hope they'd go, that's for fuckin' sure.

I don't want to say that it's our jobs to be super nice to these guys all the time, because you know what? Yeah, some of them do suck, as many people of all walks of life do. They won't change their minds because they see no reason to do so. But if you have the energy to try and level with these guys and just say things in a way that isn't accusatory and is just matter-of-fact, it works better. They're more likely to see you as a whole-ass person if you're willing to engage with them as a whole-ass person. It's exhausting, and I'm not the best at it, but goddammit, I've tried, with varying results. Even if they come in swinging, they can be tripped up by a simple "why would you say that?" or "I don't get it." Challenging them in a way that's not accusatory so much as it is asking them to self-reflect. Why would you say that? Why is that offensive joke funny? Why do you think it's an appropriate thing to say to people you barely even know?

I'm not one of those people that denies the existence of the male loneliness epidemic, though I certainly do think loneliness is up with everybody, not just men. I think neuroatypical men are particularly vulnerable; people with autism aren't any more likely than NT people to believe conspiracy theories, but I definitely found myself taking the word of people who I was friendly with when they perpetuated misinformation to me about shit like AGP or ROGD because why would they lie to me? Looking back, there were definitely people who were racist in a more lowkey way that wasn't immediately detectable by me because I couldn't hear the dogwhistles. But just by virtue of being a enby in predominately queer social circles, I have people around me that were able to challenge these views and help pull me away from these ideas (and help me realize that my gender is more "woman?" rather than just "woman"). These friends allowed me to realize just how stupid they actually were. There's a lot of guys, particular straight guys, who just do not have that in their lives. The bigots are always recruiting and there's nothing they love more than disenfranchised young men who are full of misdirected anger and resentment, especially ones who might be psychologically or emotionally vulnerable and incredibly insecure about it. It's a really hard mindset to get out of, particularly when your views get more extreme, and it's also something you have to actually want to change. Admitting you've been played for a sucker by people with agendas and who don't actually give a shit about you is hard. Nobody wants to admit when they've been had.

There's always a lot of resistance whenever anybody floats the idea that hey, maybe we shouldn't automatically assume these guys are assholes when we encounter them; they might just be ignorant, and you can talk to people who are ignorant without coming across as condescending or sanctimonious. Some of them might be assholes but let them show themselves first before deciding that you can't deal with them. But men are like most people; they don't want to see themselves as fundamentally bad or wicked. Nor should they. I know a lot of women who have been hurt by men; shit, I was hurt by the same man over and over and over again and was in denial about it for decades, and it was only after leaving him that I realized just how absolutely fucked he was as a person, and how he'd never have any incentive to change, even when faced with the consequences of his incredibly selfish actions. I tried so fucking hard to get him to improve only to be met with the same rote excuses for why he couldn't, and I kept giving him grace he did not earn. But also I was trying for 21 years. But his problems are his own. Not every man is going to be like him. I've known men who are, deep down, decent people, but they pick up shitty ideas that linger around them like a stinkcloud. The good news about stinkclouds, though? You can take a shower and smell better. You do it regularly enough, you won't stink no more. It's not an immutable trait. But it definitely helps to not hang around other guys who cluster and form a larger stinkcloud. You gotta wash your ass, if you must, as Del the Funky Homosapien once said.

Fellas, you are not a poisoned bowl of M&Ms. You might just be kinda smelly and in need of a bath. You can't remove the poison from those M&Ms, but you can clean up and become the best version of yourself. A lot of us have the stink of a lot of cultural ideas we've been fed without question, and you're not a bad person for having thought these things one time; it's a long process trying to challenge and prune these ideas. But you might be a bad person if somebody tries to reach out to you and you go and roll around in pig shit and declare how much you love being stinky, while also being upset that girls don't want to talk to you on account of the stink... unless they are taught from a young age to ignore it, or they also want to just socially isolate themselves by diving headfirst into the Bog of Eternal Stench. Those women do certainly exist, but they're not going to bring out the best in you, you know?

It's not an easy process, and it's not easy to reach out to people and have the psychological wherewithal to be able to handle some potentially wild shit. But if you're the kind of person who believes in rehabilitation in the justice system, then you should be able to extend that to people who just have some really shitty ideas that they just internalized without question who might just need to hear a perspective that they haven't heard before. Not everybody can do it, but for those who can? Try. You might help keep somebody from quoting crime or suicide statistics to strangers online in an attempt to feel some semblance of power above those they see below them in the societal hierarchy. You can't force change, but you might be able to nudge them in the right direction.

I think that's the best anybody can do. Try to be as kind as patient as you can, but don't take any shit, either. Remain firm in your principles. Remove yourself if you have to. But at least try, even when it's hard, because like it or not, we need as many of these guys on our side as possible of we want to affect the kind of change we want to see in the world.

... And that's all I have to say about that.

[nezoriy]

List of "normal" things that always baffled me as a person on the aro/ace spectrum:

Disclaimer: A lot of this is based on the feelings and perception of my teenage self when I started to feel people around me were weird but didn't have the language or concept yet to understand what was wrong. So, give me a break if it sounds edgy sometimes. I don’t have the energy to sugarcoat every statement so it doesn’t offend anyone. If you're part of the mainstream and feel attacked by a random dude on the internet questioning things you find "normal," maybe ask yourself why you’re upset instead of coming for me.

1. "Love at first sight."

Even as a kid, this felt like a scam. I get friendship, and I can imagine love developing out of it. But for that, you need to know the person. You can't know someone instantly. So how on earth is this supposed to work? (The answer is, most ppl can feel sexual attraction instantaneously and it gets sold as love for the kids.)

2. Finding someone "attractive" = you’d like to fuck them.

I honestly was like 20something when I realized that actually yes, when ppl talk about someone, even celebs, being "attractive," they do mean they’d like to have sex with them and not just compliment them on their looks.

Like, I can honestly say that many of my friends, Cate Blanchett, and Hugh Jackman are "attractive." But to me, that’s like talking about a painting. Like, sure, Singer Sargent's Madame X is "attractive," but no one's trying to, uh, get it on with the painting… right?

3. The whole concept of dating (to find a romantic partner.)

So, you’re telling me people meet up specifically to see if they might develop feelings for each other when they don't have those feelings yet? 

Like, what even makes you say yes to a date if you don't know a person at all? (The answer is: once again, sexual attraction, obviously.) 

On the other hand, if you’re already friends with someone and just wanna see where it goes, why bring the flowers and fancy dinners into the equation?

4. Why people (especially women) would even risk sex back when it could have had major consequences for them

The list includes (but isn’t limited to):

Women before reliable contraception in societies where an unplanned pregnancy could be socially catastrophic;

Brothel visitors once STDs were known;

(Here’s the tricky one bc I myself kinda feel guilty for not being empathetic enough) gay people, especially men, in times and places where they could literally be imprisoned or executed for having sex

I need to be very clear here, this isn’t about moral superiority as I'm not feeling any, it’s about survival. Like, if sex could legit mess up your life, why not just… not do it? 

Yeah it's basically rip to “fallen” women but I’m different.

5. The culture of one-night stands, cruising, club hookups, etc.

This is still a bit uncomfortable in my head because this is a very prominent part of gay culture specifically, and I’ve always felt incredibly disconnected from it. But I can't edit it out.

Okay, so someone’s hot. I can maybe get that there’s a spark. But if you don’t know them… what if they open their mouth mid-action and reveal they voted for trump? Instant deal-breaker, my genitals are shriveling in terror.

6. The need to have a partner / actively searching for one.

I give it to you, if you vibe with someone, getting into a relationship may make sense. But actually, putting in effort to find one? For what? There’s so much other cool stuff in life!

7. "I haven’t had sex in five minutes/a month/half a year 😱😭" / jokes about dry spells.

Do you actually keep track of the timelines? So what if you haven’t? I get it, orgasm is great and all, but your hand still works, right? Why do you need another person for that? 

8. Imagining yourself in place of a person/character in sex scenes.

This mostly applies to fanfics but also “regular” porn. Even if the scene is hot, I don’t picture myself as any of the characters involved. Even if I'm aroused, I like it precisely for the characters in a specific scenario, I would only be a third wheel there. 

9. Sexual fantasies with yourself as a participant.

I really don't want to imagine myself in any sexual scenarios, neither with fictional characters nor with real people, even if I might have a crush on them. 

10. Cheating in relationships/marriage.

I’m not even talking about the moral aspect of breaking trust/violating the negotiated agreements; it’s the fact that someone "just couldn’t help themselves," “accidentally” had sex. Like, you’re willing to break an agreement, feel all the guilt, and go all secret agent-level to hide the thing because you… what, couldn’t keep it in your pants?

11. Extreme jealousy over sex.

Alongside the last point, I don’t really get why people make such a big deal about someone sleeping with someone else. Sure, it’s not cool to break agreements, and it’s a valid reason to re-evaluate the relationship. But just because they hooked up with someone else? Why is it such a dramatic deal?

(Spoiler alert: I’ve grown up to be poly now, who’s surprised xD)

12. The sexualization of women in media, ads, and the outrage from cishet guys about female characters wearing realistic armor instead of metal bikinis in their games now.

What do you mean, people actually like this and it works on them? Do people actually appreciate having half-naked women in their media? Seriously?

13. The priority of romantic relationships over friendships and every other kind of relationship.

From "got a partner, disappeared for two months from their friend group" to the whole idea that romance is inherently more "serious" or "important" than friendship. Why? Who made that a rule?

Okay, that’s it off the top of my head. Might add something later. 

[tlbodine]

Tips for Talking to Conservative Friends & Family

In the wake of the election, with the holidays around the corner, some of you may be wondering how to deal with friends, family members, coworkers, etc. who voted for Trump and/or who espouse his policies.

This guide is by no means meant to be authoritative and won't work in every circumstance. I accept no responsibility for what happens if you use any scripts and it goes horribly awry. But I did want to share some of my personal experience in this vein, as someone with a great deal of conservative people in my life whom I generally love and respect and would like to maintain a civil relationship with (and, hopefully, bring them back to center if not my side). I've had decent luck with these strategies in the past.

First: Only engage if it is safe to do so.

Do not get into political discussions that might endanger your job, your living situation, your access to care, or your physical and emotional safety. However, do engage if you are able to do so safely and your doing so might help someone in a more vulnerable position. What the fuck is privilege for if not using it to protect people?

Second: Identify your goal.

Do you want to de-escalate a situation so someone can get out of immediate danger? Do you want to establish a boundary? Or do you want to actually attempt to convert someone over to your side? Each goal has different tactics. Be realistic with yourself about what you're going to accomplish. If you do not have a close relationship with the person, you are extremely unlikely to change their mind about anything, and it's frankly not worth the effort. Let someone who is close to them do that work. De-escalate, set a boundary if possible, and gtfo.

But if you do have a close relationship -- if this person generally likes and respects you -- then you might have a shot at challenging their views.

We're going to assume a scenario where you're dealing with people you know and who you can generally count on not to be immediately aggressive. Somebody else will be better-equipped to talk about strategies for dealing with protests and people on the street etc.

De-Escalation & Setting Boundaries

This is your first line of defense against family members acting shitty. If someone tries to start a debate, makes an off-color joke or comment, or is otherwise behaving inappropriately, try:

Let's not talk about this over dinner.

I don't think this is appropriate conversation right now.

That's an awful thing to say.

I don't understand that joke, can you explain why it's funny?

I'm sorry, I won't listen to any more of this (leave the room)

That's not okay.

What you want to do here is make an appeal to correct standards of behavior. You want them to feel ashamed for acting out of line. In order to make this work, it is essential that you:

Remain calm and keep an even, light-but-firm tone of voice. It needs to be clear that you're not joking around, but you also cannot sound upset. (Yes, this is really hard. I'm sorry.) Practice your very best "I'm not angry, just disappointed" tone for maximum effect. If you can manage it, eye contact and a neutral or even slightly concerned or sad expression will make it even better.

Avoid insulting or attacking them. Do not say things like, "Stop being an asshole" or "I can't believe you're acting like this" no matter how much you want to. Do not say "That's racist/sexist/ableist/homophobic." These types of replies, no matter how accurate, will make them defensive, and defensive people shut down and stop listening. If you come off as angry, that gives THEM permission to be angry right back. But if you come off as the normal one, them getting angry makes them look like a dick.

Do not laugh. Avoid the urge to chuckle nervously or joke it off. It WILL feel uncomfortable. It WILL be awkward as fuck. That's the point. They are misbehaving by violating a standard of appropriate behavior, and you are setting down a boundary. The awkwardness will fade and, frankly, they'll often start behaving better pretty much immediately.

Follow through on your consequences. If you say, "Dad, if you continue to bring up Trump, I will not call you anymore," you have to stick to it. Holding firm to your boundaries is HARD AS FUCK but if you don't do it then all you do is teach them that they can wear you down. Think of it like training a dog. Consistency is key.

You're not going to change anybody's closely-held beliefs with this strategy, but you WILL make a case for what is allowable around you. If you model this behavior, and encourage and embolden other people you know to do the same, you might be surprised. A lot of times, people's inappropriate behavior is a boundary-testing mechanism -- they tell the racist joke because they want to see if they can get away with it -- and if you shut them down, they often just...stop. Or at least retreat into their little hole to talk to fellow gremlins instead of you.

Challenging Views, Changing Minds

Okay. You actually want to engage them in conversation. You want to challenge their views and help them change their opinion. How do you do that?

Again, it's essential that you remain calm. If you can't have this discussion without getting heated, it's not the time to have the discussion. If they start to get heated, be prepared to de-escalate and walk away: "I cannot continue this conversation with you right now. Let's talk again some other time when we've cooled off."

But if you can keep calm, here is what actually works (sometimes):

Listen to them. No, really. Hear them out.

Help them feel heard by empathizing with them. Repeat back your understanding of what they said and how that must feel.

Remind them that for other people, THEY are feeling xyz emotion, too.

Ask them questions. Instead of telling them they're wrong, ask questions that will lead them to draw that conclusion themselves.

Make appeals to emotion rather than starting with facts and logic. You'll know what kind of emotion to draw on because you've been listening to them and empathizing. Hint: almost always, bigotry (at the personal level) is rooted in fear.

If this is going well, THEN you can start citing some sources, statistics, and facts.

Invite them to share THEIR sources with you.

Thank them for doing such a good job at being calm and discussing this with you, reaffirm your close relationship, and encourage them to come talk to you about this at any time. It's very possible that you are the only person they might feel safe bringing this stuff up to now and you want to keep that channel of communication open.

Very often (not always, or often), conservative-leaning individuals are people who lack the education or knowledge that left-leaning people do. They may be accustomed to being insulted, yelled at, and made to feel stupid. They are conditioned to believe that folks on the left are smug, holier-than-thou, stuck-up assholes. Whatever you can do to poke a hole in that perception will simultaneously make it easier to talk to them AND cause them to question that rhetoric the next time they encounter it.

This tactic won't always work. It probably won't work at all the first conversation. It's something you'll have to chip away at over time. But sometimes, it's worth it.

And if it's not? Well. As they say.

[a-hollow-forest]

i'm not joking or being hyperbolic when i say joining an adult roleplay website with an 'extreme' section for nasty kinks the literal moment i turned 18 might have saved my fucking life

do you know what it feels like to suddenly develop serial killer fantasies (<-- flippant way of referring to my OCD intrusive thoughts) when you're like 14 and never talk to anyone about it because you're scared you'll get committed or sent to prison (or just fucking murdered/hurt by people) but you're also terrified that having those thoughts mean you're a monster and you should kill yourself to save everyone from what you 'might become'

only to stumble into a community where people are just like 'lol yeah we're horny about that. you're fine. we're fine. it's fantasy, it's thought. you're fine'

genuinely contributed to me recovering from being suicidal because until then i thought i was irredeemably evil because of something so wildly out of my control. it gave me peace with those specific intrusive thoughts that never went away but cannot hurt me in that way anymore (i still have OCD, don't get me wrong, it just moved onto different tactics)

this puritan version of fandom and writing and anti-kink bullshit is going to get people like the scared kid i was killed. it is going to make the ones that don't kill themselves hate themselves and think they're monsters that deserve nothing but abuse. you aren't protecting anyone by accusing people whose number one fear is that their thoughts make them evil of being evil. fuckasses.

[lamb-bait]

good morning,

my little lambs, i hope you're doing well. it's almost nostalgic when I post here, thinking back to better times, but lingering in the past doesn't do anyone any good - right? right.

today's topic is a controversial one, 'omorashi'.

now, as we dive deeper into my depraved desires, I'm sure curiosity may be on the rise. 'what does that mean? how does it apply to me? is this something I can picture my Shepard doing to me without his actual presence?'

and it's something you can follow along to as you read this thought of mine. first things first, you have to have a need to go to the bathroom. to pee, specially. good, good. now that you're there, this is where the scenario actually starts. the act of omorashi is controlling when and where one's submissive partner (you, specifically) is allowed to utilize their bodily function.

now, how can we picture this?

simple. this is a lot more personal than you might imagine, more control than forcing my body ontop of you, more submissive than you might think you actually are. so let's put ourselves in this position, you and me, and no one else. my sweet little lamb, just like you ~ you have to go pee. it's normal, it's understandable, but your Shepard needs to give you permission to do so. so you look for me in the house, it's not normal that I don't take you out myself - conditioning you for when you normally relieve yourself. and when you find me, it's clear that I expected you to be ready to go.

of course, it's not going to be that easy. making you lay down on the bed, to spread your legs and lean back. I'd wonder how you felt, how your cunt feels when you have to go, when it'll start feeling bad. and there's the first touch, pressing my fingers against your panties, grinding my surprisingly soft touch against you. we all know you've tried it little lamb, touching yourself while you have to pee, if felt good - didn't it? we both know how disgusting you really are, digging my fingers against your panties, as if wanting to shove them in your cunt and ignoring the fabric concealing your body. using two fingers to spread your cunt open, my other arm forcing your legs to stay apart, smiling as I ask you, "you're not going to go until I let you, right little lamb?"

of course you're going to nod, you're barely able to think - focused more on holding it in than you are on the words coming out of my mouth. pulling your panties off and leaning over your cunt, opening my mouth and letting my warm breath brush over your sensitive little parts. moving down more to press my tongue against your clit, moaning against your body as I do - my fingers that were once desperately trying to push inside you, now unrestricted and rubbing against your cunt, slowly pushing in as I lap my tongue against your clit.

feeling you squirm, to let out pathetic moans and whines, a mixture of grinding your cunt against my face and wanting to pull away from the stimulation. only for me to stop abruptly and pulling fingers out from inside you, to move my head back and get up. Will you finally get to pee? of course not. you'll see me taking my boxers off, stroking my cock as I move over you, grinding the tip of it against your clit, rubbing it down to your cunt and pushing it inside you with each slow throb.

fucking you, while I look down at your face - the mixture of worry and pleasure, gasps of air you're desperately taking, my hands wrapping around your cheek as I force you to look up at me, getting close to that perfect climax, telling you that you have to do it - right as I feeling you tightening up for your own release, moving my hand down to your clit and rubbing it as I urge my cock in as deep as it'll fit in your cunt, forcing you to piss while I practice breeding you.

--

as you can see, it's not all sunshine and flowers. im sure my interests will start getting more, and more depraved. i haven't even talked about me pissing on/in you yet. but that's for another time, as we fall deeper into the void I call my mind.

and c~𝜗𝜚, you're not being ignored. my precious little lambs, if you have something to say message me yourself, anonymity doesn't get you my attention.

With abhorrent lust,

Your loving Shepard

[tubbytarchia]

Wild Life Session 4 smallidarity thoughts (+ some Scar and Lizzie)

See it was all fine, nothing to worry about!! Joel couldn't bring himself to kill Jimmy, he barely even harmed him. I'm pretty sure he shot him just once (after Jimmy trampled their crops so. fair)? Joel calmed down, he rebuilt his car, everything is fine. He says at the start that he's wary of Jimmy because of him going after Joel last time, and that's about it for the time being

Jimmy dies and Joel makes a deal out of it and calls him a muppet. As per usual. Meanwhile Jimmy is still adamant to get at Joel whilst Scar tries to deter him because they want to be an alliance

He and Jimmy meet up at some point after their brief interaction at the start where Joel shot him, and they just banter. And Gem and Scar are just standing there like "guyss we're a family come on" meanwhile Joel and Jimmy's exchange goes as follows: Jimmy: "you're the ones with tasty lives!" Joel: "yeah bet you wish you could have a chunk of me!" "Oh I'm having a chunk out of you!" "Yeah and you know where to take that chunk out of!" "Oh I'm gonna take it! I'm taking it!" "You should!" And then Gem and Scar tell them to break it up and Joel goes "we're just flirting!!" ? what the fuck? Genuinely WHAT are they talking about. is this an innuendo of some sort. is this another ambiguous smallidarity sex scene sorry who said that

Jimmy gets a double kill (in the most adorable way btw. The way he weasels his way in there and backs off and comes back to try again all crouched. animal) and goddd people hyping him up is so so sweet. He deserves this. He's also a little bit evil, he's getting the murder rush but I'm happy for him. He needs to kill more people, he needs to get this out of his system, he deserves this, things need to get worse before they get better. ANYWAY Scar all "that was the greatest kill ever on the life series" is so cute. And man I gotta agree. There's more unique and funny and impressive kills but I would not mind calling this the best just for the fact that it's Jimmy. He's competent, he can do shit like this, but it feels like most everyone and the world is continuously against his survival, but here he is... my son...

And then Joel coming up to congratulate him... Really blummin cute. In Joel's POV also, he says "I went to congratulate Jimmy and we had a moment" which I wager he might be referring to the creeper incident as 'the moment' but that'd make no sense to call it that. With that tonation. Why did he say it like that. Stop being cute

But yeah Scar tries to blow Joel up with creepers only for Joel to save him from his own creeper and he's so casual about it. He is incredibly kind to the bamboozlers, it's really cute...

And then Jimmy does it!! He gets Joel!! And he gets him real good!! And can you believe that the first person to kill either of the family duo is Jimmy, of all people. Scott has died by this point too and Jimmy is the one to make a dent in the full 6-life alliance. Crazy. I'm so proud of him. It was seriously really good too, see, when Jimmy puts his mind to something and is able to focus he excels, he really does. And Joel, oh Joel is such a good sport about it. He keeps saying how it was good and fair and that he still wants an allyship with him. Tells him "welcome back to green" aww. And they make a truce, Jimmy got it out of his system and now they can be friends and go kill other people instead and Joel is proud of him... Jimmy "Joel, I finally got you, so I will stop now, so let's do the perfect dap" and then they both count down and clap their hands to simulate slapping palms. Awesome. All of Joel and Jimmy is just really cute this time around. Very happy about them being a more proper alliance now, but we'll see if it sticks... Joel can only be so mean to Jimmy at this point though I don't think he has it in him to betray him or anything lol. Can't speak for the rest of them but not too worried for the smallidarity, it's a plentiful crop...

Also a very important exchange between Lizzie and Jimmy at some point: "I just finangled a load of diamonds off of Joel" "Oh? How did you do that?" "I asked him just really nicely" (lie btw she was moreso extorting Joel) "Oh, that doesn't work when I... I guess... you are his wife, I guess..." "Yeah..." "Lucky for some I guess- right (unrelated topic)" I'm not 100% confident that's what Jimmy said at the end, it's a bit hard to make out but. what? Hello?

I also extend gratitude towards Lizzie for being so nice and supportive of Jimmy, she was the one to suggest the cobweb creeper trap that ended up taking Joel out, but she also insisted that he drink a health restoration stew beforehand in case anything went wrong. Jimmy didn't end up doing so (he was full) and Lizzie is all "why?" and "something could have gone wrong". man. Nice to him...

[coffeeghoulie]

Ghostober Day #26: Stoned Sex

Much thanks to @kroas-adtam for putting Ghostober together <3

Pairing: Aether/Cirrus

Cirrus always gets painfully sensitive after she cums. Aether wants to try a work around

Explicit, 1.4k. Contains quintessence use/quintosis (because what is quintosis if not a mind altering substance lol), oral sex, and overstimulation.

Divider by @wrathofrats <3

Cirrus cums with a gasp, fingers tightening in long purple hair as her clit throbs. Between her legs, Aether groans appreciatively, his tongue pressed firm and flat to her folds as he drinks her release down. His eyes gleam amethyst as he glances up, and it's electric as she meets his gaze.

"Fuck," Cirrus hisses, her head thudding back against his pillows. Her hair is tangled from tossing her head. Aether doesn't falter, lips sealing around her clit and working her through her orgasm.

Far too quickly, the pleasure turns to uncomfortable overstimulation. Cirrus tries to shove Aether back from her cunt. He growls and grabs her hips firmly, pulling her back to his mouth.

"Not so fast, dearheart," Aether chuckles, pulling back just long enough to lick slick from his lips and nuzzle against her inner thigh. "Or are you tapping out?" No shame in that, Cirr."

She pants, muscles jumping in her inner thigh as Aether scrapes his stubble against it. "You know I need a minute, cosmos."

"Aw," Aether whines teasingly. He pats her hip. "I thought I said I was gonna reward you for taking such good care of the pack while I wasn't with you on the road."

Cirrus laughs breathlessly, knuckles creaking as she loosens her grip in his hair, petting him apologetically. "Yes, I remember," she says. "But one's reward enough."

Aether gives her a boyish smile, his gold fang glinting, and turns to kiss her thigh. "Oh, dearheart. I know you're satisfied with one. But did you think I'd be satisfied with just one? I missed you too, you know. Missed your taste." He licks his lips with a rumbling moan.

Cirrus groans softly. The ebbing heat in her core attempts to rekindle, a spark against wet tinder. Her fingers flex in Aether's mohawk. "I just- Sensitive," she sputters, voice tinging on a whine. She's still a little woozy from her orgasm, apparently the first of the night. Despite her oversensitivity, she's curious where he's going with this.

"I know you get sensitive, honeysuckle," Aether says, and Cirrus melts at just the gentle tone of his voice. She missed him just as much as he missed her. "I can give you time, if you want. Or, if you're game, we don't have to wait."

Her brow furrows, and she's about to open her mouth to ask him what he means when he lifts the hand that's petting her hip. Aether waggles his fingers coyly, and her eyes lock onto the deep violet sparks that jump and dance between his fingertips.

Cirrus laughs, carding her pianist's fingers through his mohawk. "Oh, you wanna dope me up with quintessence so I just have to take it?"

Aether's brow furrows, a look of surprised concern falling over his face. "No, no, not at all, not unless you want that. I, uh, had something else a little different in mind, dearheart."

Her hand freezes in his hair. The air is cool against her cunt, except for the puffs of his breath. Aether keeps talking.

"I thought, if quintessence gets into your brain, can alter sensation and thought. I might be able to get in there and, well, flip the switch in your brain that makes you experience overstimulation. And I could keep eating you out until I thought you were well rewarded for taking care of the pack for me."

"Oh," Cirrus breathes, considering the possibility.

"No discomfort or pain, just pleasure," Aether says, leaning his head against her thigh. "And if you don't want to try it, we absolutely don't have to, and we can call it a night right here and now."

Cirrus ponders, hand idly moving in his hair. He chuffs, pressing up into her touch, his eyes not leaving hers. "I don't see why not," she hums, chirping as Aether's face lights up in a grin.

"I knew you'd want to give it a whirl," he chuckles, nuzzling her thigh. His stubble scrapes pleasantly against sensitized skin, and she shivers. "If anything doesn't feel right, dearheart, you know how to get my attention?"

She smiles fondly down at him, scratching his scalp with blunt claws. "Yeah, cosmos. Stoplight or snap."

Satisfied with that answer, Aether rewards her by mouthing at a mark he's left on the inside of her thigh. He noses at the downy feathers that trail down from where they cover her mound, inhaling her scent. "Alright, sweetheart. Deep breath."

Cirrus complies, eyelashes fluttering as she feels the staticky sensation of quintessence seeping into her nervous system. It creeps up to her brain, familiar. It feels like him, and she shuts her eyes and relaxes back against his pillows.

"Oh, dearheart," Aether chuckles, not unkindly. His hand goes back to her hip, tracing an arc with his thumb. "Feeling good already?"

Cirrus lets out a low hum, feeling the discomfort melt away from her body. "You sure you're not just making me feel good, Aeth? Feels nice."

"No point in making it feel bad," he teases, thumb not stopping its repetitive motion as he focuses on the pleasure center in her brain. "But no, there's no extra pleasure. Just a little nerve block. For lack of a better term."

She hums again. Her fingers idly pet through his hair, a soothing little motion as her body relaxes. "Well, whatever you're doing t'me, feels good."

He laughs warmly. "You think you're ready to keep going, dearheart?"

"Yeah," she smiles back at him. Her hand gently pushes, no more than suggestion, at the back of his head.

Aether rolls his eyes playfully, but leans back in. He licks a slow stripe from the bottom of her entrance all the up to the highest point of her clit.

Cirrus's eyes shut again, a soft sigh slipping past her lips. When she feels Aether freeze, waiting, she pries them back open to meet his gaze.

"How's that feel?" he asks, his hands shifting to hold the meat of her thighs just hard enough to dimple her grey skin. "Any discomfort?"

"None at all," Cirrus says, a relieved giggle slipping past her lips. "By all means, keep going."

"As you wish, dearheart," Aether grins. He leaves a trail of kisses up the inside of her thigh before planting one directly on her clit just to feel her squirm. His eyes soften and unfocus then, jaw working as he laps at her.

Cirrus moans, loud and unashamed. One hand grips at the back of Aether's head, tangled in his hair, and the other fists the sheets under her.

Aether groans into her cunt as she pulls his hair, eating like a man starved. Distantly, behind the waves of sensation washing over her, Cirrus is surprised at how easily the pleasure comes. Especially with how little it's been since the last time she came. "Fuck, just like that."

He rumbles low in his throat, and Cirrus's toes curl as his voice vibrates through her entire body. Every inch of her skin feels tingly, but not in any way unpleasant. Especially not where his lips wrap around her clit and suck.

If he hadn't said that he wasn't using his quintessence to pleasure her, Cirrus would accuse Aether of using it to push her over the edge. She's never cum so quickly twice in a row in her entire life, and it's just as much a crashing wave as her first. "Fuck!" she cries out, so loudly she knows somebody else in the ghoul wing had to have heard it. Her fingers tighten painfully hard in Aether's hair.

He doesn't protest or pull back to breath. Aether only spares her an upwards glance to watch her chest heave before rededicating himself to working her over.

The aftershocks sputter through Cirrus's body, and she tenses in anticipation as they peter away. But the discomfort never comes as Aether keeps licking at her folds, sucking on her clit like her taste is candy.

Cirrus groans loudly, her head lolling back, as she realizes Aether's little trick worked. Her hips rock up against his lips and tongue, and his fingers tighten around her thighs as he keeps eating. His breath comes in hot little puffs through his nose, ruffling her down, sticky with her release and his spit.

"Aether, oh fucking Lucifer, Aeth," she gasps, not loosening her grip in his hair. Cirrus almost cums again as she feels him grin against her cunt.

[theitgirlnetwork]

What Are You Willing To Do?

Ch. 1 : Self-Restraint (Rafe has none)

Milan's Party Outfit

Note: Okay this took forever to come out and I'm sorry. Please let me know what you think. Also something to note, I have an OC who is the main love interest in my JJ story. She is present in this story, but the two stories don't intertwine. Just something for those of you who will read both. I hope you enjoy and I love interacting. I will accept (constructive) criticism. And feedback. Another note, Milan is a little more of a bimbo character than my other ones, she won't be fully lost and I refuse to make her childlike. She just likes to be in the wind and chose a man who handles stuff for her. Also she doesn't have a permanent face claim yet, so if you have any ideas for that, please message them to me! :) Thank you for giving my story a chance, and if you're reading any of my other stories, I hope to be posting more to have some reprieve from the state of the world. Thanks so much!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual conduct, strong language, drug use

“Let’s go, I don’t know why I have to wait for you, we’ve got things to handle today, you’re makin’ me late-”

“Yeah, Dad-” Rafe huffs, jogging his way down the steps, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack in the foyer. “Well, Sara has been in my shit again so, maybe you could talk to her about that-”

“I don’t touch your shit, no one wants your shit, Rafe.”

“I can tell, you probably brought your bum ass pogue boyfriend in here too, he shouldn’t be in the damn house-”

“Rafe!” Ward’s voice booms, making Rafe’s eyes snap to his father’s obediently, mouth snapping shut. “Do you really think that it's productive for you to waste time arguing with your little sister when I just told you we need to get a move on?”

“Uh,” the younger man breathes heavily through his nose, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides as he glares at his sister over his father’s shoulder. “No, sir.” 

“Alright then.” Ward rolls his eyes, nodding his head for his son to grab the bag on the ground and grab the car keys before turning to address his eldest daughter. “Need you to be home for dinner tonight. There’s a new family moving in a couple blocks over and we wanna make a good impression. That means no fighting,” the older man raises his eyebrows at his children, placing his bluetooth in his ear, “no boyfriends, Sarah,” Ward finishes with a rough pat on his son’s back, “no drugs. Get it? This could be big, Gregory Cabot is big in the oil industry and they might want to…settle here. If they do, we should be their first friends, understand?”

Rafe nods quietly, attentively hanging onto his father’s every word. Taking them in with an intensity that would satisfy any other dad. But not Ward Cameron. “Sarah, they’ve got twins about your age. Make sure you and Wheezie are cleaned up nicely. Rafe,” the 21 year old is met with his father’s rough hand smacking his cheek once, twice, under the guise of an affectionate pat. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“It’s like he uh, doesn’t get it, right? Like I do fuckin’ everything he asks, and I’m uh…I’m the fuck up.” Rafe stammers irritably before sending a powerful swing into the golf ball in front of him, watching it sail off into the distance. 

Topper and Kelce exchange looks as their friend grinds his teeth, grabbing a beer from their cart and taking a deep swig. He’d been ranting about this morning since they’d started on the course an hour ago. Apparently, his father’s comment had carried in Rafe’s mind all of the way through the brief errand down at the docks he’d accompanied him on, followed him to the country club and was going to last the entirety of their hang out. 

“Yeah man, I mean,” Topper begins, “I get it right? My mom’s always on some shit too. Like I screw up everything I do.”

“You do, Top.” Kelce chuckles, lining up for his swing.

Rafe nods along, taking another swig. “For real, like realistically, I do everything I’m supposed to, like I really step up and it’s fuckin’ bullshit that I’m still supposed to act like I’m his little bitch boy. I’m fully a man. I’m focused and shit. Because for real, Top, I feel like if Sarah asked you to come over right now you’d go runnin’ right?”

“Fuck you man.”

“Motherfucker knows I’m right.”

“Kelce?”

“I mean, Top, let’s be real.”

Topper rolls his tongue in his cheek irritably, turning red at his friend’s taunting, “Well, y’all are the ones who lost a girl to Maybank. Angel is glued to his broke ass.”

Rafe scoffs, picking his club back up and practicing his swing. “Yeah, fuck that, that was Kelce’s thing. Angel’s bad, but she’s more like the sister I wish Sarah’s annoying ass was.” 

“Sarah’s just like, young minded, she doesn’t know what she wants.”

Kelce laughs again as Rafe rolls his eyes, the two men switching spots as Rafe goes up for his turn again. “She knows, it’s just not you, man. Maybe that pogue just has better dick than you, Top…or did she ever let you fuck her?” Kelce laughs, turning his head to look up the hill at the juice bar at the edge of the course, squinting at something in the distance.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’.” Rafe huffs, swinging again, smirking as the ball goes directly into the hole, resting the club on his broad shoulder. “If you bitches weren’t so worried about chasing ass, maybe your game would be better.” The dirty blond brags, turning to see both of his friends now staring off into the distance. His jaw ticks in annoyance as he realizes that his friends had missed his impressive swing and ignored his bragging to stare at… “what the hell are you idiots looking at?”

When they don’t answer, Rafe decides to look for himself. The sight he sees is simultaneously exactly what he’s expecting and something he couldn’t have seen coming. 

Standing at the juice bar was possibly the sexiest little thing he’s seen in his 21 years of living. Sure, he’d expected to see a pretty girl. That’s just about the only thing that can get both Topper and Kelce to shut the fuck up for more than two seconds. Their eyes wide and mouths slightly agape, the two men didn’t hide their attraction at all. 

But Rafe, he was experiencing something else entirely. He’d thought she was fucking hot like they did, obviously. But this was a different kind of fine. She had to be new. There was no way that she would have evaded him by now. His cheek dimples slightly as he absently bites his lip a bit, watching the girl lean over the counter, her feet lifting slightly off of the ground, her tiny white skirt giving him a shot of the smooth skin that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. Rafe’s eyes follow her every movement, like a predator stalking its prey. Intense blue drinking in the dark, shiny, barely shoulder length hair falls out from her hat as she lifts it from her head, smoothing her hand over it before placing her hat back on.

Come on, baby, turn around for me. Lemme see the rest of that body. Lemme see that face.

It’s as if she could hear him. Like she decided to move, position herself, just for his enjoyment, because she turns. She turns and pulls herself up onto one of the barstools with a hop, pulling her shades from her face and tucking them onto the front of her shirt. She’s far, but even with the distance, Rafe finds himself puffing out a breath of disbelief, drinking in her gorgeous features. Full, glossy lips, tinged red, big eyes and a sweet, absent expression.

Next thing Rafe knows he’s making his way up the grassy hill, ignoring the calls of his friends for him to wait up. 

“But, my parents are signing up for membership today.” 

“I’m sorry ma’am, but until you’re in the system you’ll have to pay with cash or card.”

Milan pouts and furrows her brows. She just wanted to have a quick refresher before she met up with her mother at the new house so she’d ridden over to the club with her father. She didn’t really think she’d need money. She never carries cash because she’s likely to lose it and she’d left her card in her red purse, but it didn’t match her outfit so she’d sent it ahead to the house. She could go ask her father for money, but he was in the club owner’s office talking shop and had instructed her to explore while he finished up. “But it’s hot out here.” she whines. 

Milan turns to her right and starts scanning the outdoor bar area, looking for someone who looked friendly enough to spot her until her dad came down and paid them back. She drums her manicured nails on the wood of the countertop, ignorant to the bartender rolling her eyes at the girl. 

Finally, her eye lands on a table with three guys that look fresh off of the golf course. They’re all dressed similarly and just like every other guy at the club. Polo shirt and khaki pants. Two of them wore hats. They looked like her friends from back home. But the third one, he’s the one who gives her pause. As soon as her eyes land on him his shoot over, locking on hers. She straightens her posture a bit under his gaze, offering a polite smile before doing what most normal people do when accidentally making eye contact with someone, looking away. Her bob length hair brushes her shoulder as she turns her head away, but she can’t help but feel someone was still watching her. She decides to turn her head back slowly, trying to be inconspicuous, only to find she’s right. The guy is still watching.

He wets his lip as he tilts his head. His eyes still trained on her as he uncrossed his muscular arms. A small, what seems to be a smile, rests on his lips as he drums his hands on the arms of the chair he’s sitting in, pushing out of the seat and making his way over. One of his friends making a comment about something being ‘fuckin’ unfair’.

Milan fully straightens, tucking her hands under her butt and whirling around to face the bar again as if she hadn’t just been staring back at him. She kicks her feet until she feels a presence behind her? Beside her?

She turns her head and looks up to find the same guy, caging her in, standing slightly behind her with one hand resting on the bar at her side, the other grabbing the bottom of her stool and turning her to face him fully. 

Seeing him up close she can see how cute he is. Pretty blue eyes, clear skin and pink lips. His jawline is sharp, his seemingly blond hair is buzzed short to his head, and a dimple is revealed in his cheek with his smug grin. He’s big too. Tall and muscular, his presence is all imposing, crowding her against the bar and giving her no choice but to accommodate him in her bubble. “Hey.” he says softly, his voice still a deep rumble. 

Milan finds herself mimicking his position, tilting her head to match his, placing her elbows behind her to rest on the bar leaning the same way he was. Missing his eyes dropping briefly to wear the fabric of her shirt strained against her breasts. “Hi.”

“So, you uh, you want a drink or somethin’?” he asks lowly.

“Um..” she shrugs sheepishly, lifting her shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “I dunno.”

She does. That’s what she’s been trying to do for the last few minutes, but that was before the cute guy was towering over her, taking up her space. He furrows his brow for a second, a smile still on his face as he pushes up a little, whistling into the air, nodding his head for the bartender to come over.

The woman sees the man and immediately sweeps her hand over her hair, smoothing it out and prancing over. “Yeah, yes, hi Mr. Cameron.” She twirls the end of her ponytail, offering him a wide grin. “What can I get for you?”

“Yeah, Erica, get me and the boys some beers and, uh,” the man raises his eyebrows at Milan.

“Oh, Milan.” she smiles up at him prettily before looking back at a very annoyed Erica. “Can I have a peach refresher? Please?”

“She doesn’t have a membership account yet-” Erica starts only to pause when she realizes that the blond hadn’t glanced in her direction since calling her over.

“Then put her shit on mine. Want anything else, sweetheart?” he asks, a heavy hand resting on Milan’s lower back.

“No, I think I’m okay.” she hums, lifting her chin as the bartender rolls her eyes and strolls away. “Thank you, by the way, for covering me. My father will pay you back when he’s done with his meeting.”

The mention of her father has the man recoiling a little, retreating his hand from her with his smile dropping slightly. “Don’t uh, worry about it, aight? So, Milan, how, uh, how old are you anyway?”

Milan works an even wider eyed look on her face, perching herself on the edge of the stool and swinging her legs. “15, how old are you, Mr. Cameron?”

His eyes widen and he takes a large step back, smoothing his and over his jaw, looking away briefly before looking back at her. “No shit? I uh…I’m-”

“Cute.” Milan giggles, hitting his arm lightly, pulling back when she feels the muscles that are barely concealed by the stereotypical polo that he’s wearing. “‘M 20, Mr. Cameron.”

“Rafe.” he says firmly. Milan straightens again when she feels his imposing presence once again, the heavy hand back at her back, spreading warmth up her spine. 

“Rafe.” she repeats.

“Good.” Rafe praises. Milan shifts in her seat at his approval, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion at the feeling she gets from the praise. “You, uh, new around here, or…”

“Yeah, I’m new, just settling in.”

“Right, yeah, and uh…your family just left you all alone, that doesn’t seem fair.” He offers her a small pout that Milan fails to recognize as patronizing. “Wanna join me and the boys?”

“Sur-”

The sound of a glass slamming down on the bartop startles the girl, the splashing of her drink leading her to scoot back, bumping into Rafe’s hard chest. “Three beers and a refresher.” Erica sneers. Milan checks her outfit for juice stains while Rafe tosses a tip onto the bar, an unimpressed look on his face.

“That shit’s not cute.”

Both girls whip their heads to look up at him, a hard look of disapproval has Erica huffing and storming away after snatching the tip from the counter. As quickly as it appeared, the look is gone when Rafe refocuses his attention on the girl directly in front of him.

Milan finds herself smiling again as the man mumbles a short, ‘you’re good’ under his breath as he scans her clothes for any evidence of a spill. Just as she’s going to agree to join them she receives a text from her father. Time to go. “I’d love to, but my father is ready to leave, it’s been a long day for him, I don’t wanna keep him waiting.”

“Nah, we wouldn’t want that.” Rafe offers Milan a hand, helping her hop down from the stool and passing her the drink. “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll see you around.”

As Milan walks away perkily all she can think about is the cute guy she met at the country club. Turning back once to wave her fingers at him and being met with a crooked smile and a nod of the head she flounces off to find her dad. 

And sharp blue eyes follow her skirt the whole way.

The muscle working in Rafe’s jaw is doing overtime as he cocks his head to the side, staring blankly at the wall trying to temper the rage boiling in his stomach as Ward carries on screaming in his face. 

Apparently if he didn’t have anything better to be doing, he should have been shadowing his father today instead of golfing.

Apparently he was a dickhead for even thinking he’d be sitting at one of the seats at the end of the table because that’s where the head of the house sits and he doesn’t run shit but his mouth. 

Apparently he was a poor excuse of a man for not knowing why Sarah was late and Wheezie’s dress wasn’t perfectly ironed, because how the women in the house look and act is a reflection of him and more importantly, Ward. 

So Rafe stood there. And he ate that shit. Nodded quietly, eyes squinted, internalizing every slight, every insult, and making note.

He counted every book on the bookshelf in his father’s office until he felt his jaw being gripped and forced over to face Ward. Then, he started counting the wrinkles on his face. 

The verbal lashing didn’t end until Sarah came barreling in, her straps to her dress barely on and her hair combed for fucking once since getting with that fuckin’ bum. But Ward softens. He redirects his attention to tell his daughter she’s beautiful and thank her for coming. And then he points a warning finger in Rafe’s face before storming out of the room.

“Where the hell were you?” he asks his sister through gritted teeth. 

Sarah rolls her eyes, pushing past him. “Don’t have to answer to you, Rafe.”

It takes everything in him not to put his fist through a wall.

So, yeah, one could say he’s a little on edge. Sitting on his father’s right because the guest of honor, Mr. Cabot deserves the seat on the left, that’s where food gets served first. Rose sat on the opposite end, where the second host sits which will also place her closest to where Mrs. Cabot will likely be. Ward is at the head because where the fuck else would he be? And Rafe is in the seat on the right. The seat where the food will get served last. The seat where the youngest in the family is supposed to fuckin’ sit which anyone who has any kind of knowledge of etiquette would know. Which Rafe knows because he’s proactive and he fuckin’ learned it. Because he knows every aspect of running a household, not that Ward would acknowledge it. 

He needs a fuckin’ bump. 

Or a blunt. 

What the fuck ever the wine ain’t cuttin’ it. 

But Ward is watching him like a hawk and clearly won’t tolerate him disappearing to find some peace no matter how brief and slick he is about it. 

So instead, Rafe’s leg jumps under the table. And his fingers drum on top of it. And he works his jaw irritably.

“You need a nicotine patch or something?” Wheezie asks, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“C-could you actually shut the fuck up for one second?” 

“You’re such a jerk, Rafe, she’s a kid, Jesus.” Sarah huffs. “When’s this family supposed to be coming anyway?” 

“Asking that repetitively is not going to make them get here faster.” Rose groans, rubbing her temples. “Honey-”

“They’re here,” Ward calls, retreating from the door, snapping his fingers and pointing toward the sitting room for Rafe to get four scotches ready, and sitting in the seat in the corner of the room. “Ladies?”

“We’re going.” Wheezie whines, following behind Rose into the kitchen and carrying in the dinner that they were pretending Rose and Sarah made as Sarah goes to the foyer to wait for the bell to ring. “But this little routine we have is really sexist.”

“Don’t screw this up.” Ward sneers under his breath, as he takes his glass from Rafe.

“Dad-”

The ring of the doorbell has everyone falling into their roles. It all starts without a hitch. Sarah pulls the door open with a bright smile and sickeningly sweet greeting. Rafe tries to tune in to the fake conversation his father started with him when they heard the footsteps in their home multiply. 

“Oh! I’m a mess, nice to meet you, I’m Rose, please come in. Sweetheart, why don’t you go with Sarah and Louisa while I show your father to the sitting room. Then us girls can really get to know each other.” Rose plays her part easily, her heels clacking against the floor, the sound getting closer as she chatters away to what should only be the couple and their son now that she’s dumped the girl off with Sarah. “Your daughter is just beautiful, really, you’re going to have to watch her on this island.”

She says that to everyone. 9/10 it's a lie. 

“Your daughters are gorgeous too. You must have your hands full.”

Sounds like Mrs. Cabot knows the game too, usually people don’t get a word in while Rose is running her lines.

“We keep our eyes peeled, but our girls just aren’t doing the dating scene yet.” No, Sarah’s too busy laying on her back for dirty pogues to date someone worth mentioning. A little money doesn’t change status. “Ward, darling, our guests are here.”

And that’s our cue. 

Like they’ve done many times before the two men stand, Rafe watches his father’s movements carefully, making sure to always stand tall, and one step behind him. Ward takes 2 steps, Rafe takes 1. 

The man entering the room behind Rose was tall. Only a little shorter than Rafe. Broad and appearing stern. He guides his wife in by her waist and Rafe quickly looks away from the older woman. She’s attractive, and if it was him, the last thing Rafe would want is his potential business partner’s son eyeing down his wife. The man holds out his large hand to Ward first, the two of them shaking firmly. “Gregory Cabot.” 

“Ward Cameron, good to meet you.” Ward gestures behind him for Rafe to enter stage left. “And this is my son…”

“Rafe, uh Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you, sir. Ma’am.” he says, shaking Gregory’s hand and squeezing the appropriate amount. A craft he’d perfected during the early days of doing these. 

“Good shake son.”

The comment has Rafe standing at his full height, biting back an accomplished smirk as his dad glances back at him with a look of approval. 

“Handsome young man, too.” the older woman hums. 

“Thank you, ma’am.” Rafe offers her a polite smile to appease his father. 

It’s all a part of the game. This little back and forth. It breaks the ice, and Rafe is the sacrificial lamb for it everytime. Gregory would say:

“Don’t be tryin’ to seal my wife there, boy.”

Pause for laughter. 

Then Rafe would say something like, “if I was a couple years older I might give you some competition, sir.”

To which everyone would laugh and Ward would swat him with strength that varies depending on how the interaction goes. 

Rafe has this little dance down to a science. 

It was going well. Really, it was exactly how it should be, and going quickly too. Rafe was desperate to get this part over with so they could handle business, make some money, and he could celebrate by going to a party he’d heard about earlier. 

But then she came in. And suddenly this was something entirely new.

“Dad, I’m gonna go to a party with Sarah after dinner. Can I have some money?” 

There she is. Her shapely body draped in a silky green dress with pretty pink roses, her manicured fingers already outstretched toward her father. Glossed, rose petal lips pursed as she waits for the bills to be placed in her hand. 

Milan. Rafe forces his eyes away from her, feeling two warring feelings flood his body as he wills himself to keep his eyes on her father instead.

“Without Milo?” Gregory asks. 

Milan rolls her eyes to the ceiling, huffing and crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts upward and causing Rafe to work his jaw lightly. “‘M grown, Dad.”

Ward would never tolerate that tone…neither would I.

“We’re in a new place, your brother’s away on business-” Rafe can immediately feel his father’s eyes burning holes into the side of his head. 

Milan’s eyes slide shut as she takes a deep breath, retracting fully and turning to leave the room. She was so caught up she didn’t even notice Rafe. It aggravated him. Spoiled. She’s spoiled. 

I can fix that. 

Eventually they get dinner started and it’s like the interaction hadn’t happened. Milan sat through the dinner and acted her role accordingly. She introduced herself to his father, which clearly had impressed Ward. She made her obligatory conversation points, but mostly chatted with the other women at the table. When Rafe pulled out her chair, she smiled at him prettily but aside from that, gave him no indication that she recognized him from earlier. 

Rafe tries to focus on talking shop with his dad and Gregory, but his eyes keep wandering back to Milan’s mouth on her spoon and the little hums that leave her mouth. 

The damn ice cream ain’t that fuckin’ good.

“Uh, yeah, I’ve been trackin’ the macro model for crude oil and uh, I, I’d wanna know more.”

“That’s great son, yeah, it takes time, but it seems like you're on track, maybe I could put you in contact with one of my buddies that does the numbers for me, then you can run them with your dad and I.” 

Rafe’s on fuckin’ fire. He’s killin’ this shit, and he’ll be deep in those Cabot pockets in no time. But all he could think about is the man’s pretty little princess perched on her chair a couple seats down, pouting as Sarah raves about how fun this party is going to be to Milan and Wheezie.

None of my fuckin’ business. 

“Sounds really cool, Sarah.” the girl smiles behind the metal spoon, sighing wistfully. 

Don’t do this shit man, Ward’s gonna kill you.

Her final sigh and last scoop of vanilla ice cream being spooned into her mouth through plump glossy lips is what does it.

Fuckin’ weak, Cameron. Over some pussy?

“Uh, Gregory, I’m goin’ to this party too. I’m takin’ Sarah, there’s no reason why I can’t keep an eye out for Milan too.” 

If looks could fuckin’ kill. 

Ward is staring Rafe down with a look that would have a weaker man retracting his offer immediately, but the bright smile that plastered across Milan’s face made Rafe stand his ground. 

Gregory is simply pensive. His eyes flick between his daughter and the Cameron siblings. “How old did you say you were again?”

“21, sir.” 

Gregory’s brows furrow as he looks Rafe over again, before turning to Ward. “Reminds me of my boy. Protective over his sister and her friends. Good stuff, Cameron.” He turns back to Rafe with a menacing look on his face. “Back like I sent her, Rafe.” 

“Of course, Gregory.” 

The older man couldn’t have known what he just allowed.

“Fuck, Sarah, how long does it take?”

“I didn’t even want to ride with you, Rafe, John B. could’ve picked up me and Milan-”

“Yeah, well, her dad put me in charge of her safety, Sarah, and actually, Dad put me in charge of yours, so-”

“Oh my God, don’t act like…like you’re doing some noble thing, okay? I know why you offered to take us, cause you leave me all the time-” 

“You don’t know shit, alright, Sarah?” Rafe groans, backing out of his spot and turning out of their street.

“I know plenty, and I know you’re tryin’ to fuck Milan.”

“So what?”

“So what?” Sarah tosses her hair angrily, shifting in the passenger seat. “So, you’re fucking nuts, and she’s actually a nice girl. So, Dad’s doing business with her dad, that’s so what, Rafe.”

“I like, genuinely don’t need you telling me shit about shit Sarah, like for real.” 

“I really hope her brother is fucking huge, so he can kick your ass.”

Rafe snorts, slowing the car down a little and turning down the music as he pulls into the Cabot’s neighborhood. “Yeah, maybe right? Cause God knows your little pogue bitches have tried and failed.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, love you too, sis.” Rafe looks at the large house found at the address that Gregory had given him and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Get in the back seat.”

“Are you serious-”

“Back seat, Sarah, Jesus!” He huffs, slamming the car door and making his way up the walkway, stopping on the freshly laid cobblestone when the heavy, double wooden doors swing open. 

“Bye, Dad, I’ll see you later!” 

If Rafe had thought the dress Milan had on earlier was something, this skimpy number she trots out in would test any man. The girl absently twirls in her outfit. It’s a white two piece set consisting of a long, see-through skirt, barely hiding her white bikini bottoms and matching cropped top. His eyes trail along the dips in her waist, catching on the dimples on her back before finding the matching ones on her cheeks. All he could think is how perfectly his thumbs would fit in both sets of dimples. “Hi, Rafe.” 

He tilts his head back, openly staring down at her appreciatively. “Don’t you look cute.” 

With the shy smile that overtakes her face he all but expects the girl to melt under his gaze. Rafe is pleasantly surprised when she lifts her shoulder before brushing past him to make her way toward the car. “Thank you, I know.”

He chuckles to himself as the heels of her sandals clack on the cobblestone and stop just before the passenger door. Milan purses her lips without even considering touching the handle, rocking on her feet and swinging her purse absently as she waits patiently for him to come open it, just smiling when Sarah calls from inside the vehicle, ‘it’s unlocked.’

Rafe doesn’t know what moves him. Normally, he left girls to hoist themselves into his car as he hopped in himself on the driver’s side. But he could tell, this girl didn’t even conceive that she should be the one to open the door. No, she expected him to help. To care of it. And used her pretty little grin as his payment once he gets the picture and pulls the door open and offers her his hand to settle her into the seat. “You uh, you comfortable?”

She’d already pulled down the mirror and was reapplying the lipgloss Rafe was determined to taste, humming absently to herself. “Hm? Oh, yeah.” 

Not a thought behind those pretty eyes, huh?

I like that.

Milan watches out of the window as they pass by trees and grassy nooks. String lights twinkling as they ride by, people selling produce on the side of the road. The salty smell of water in the air through the open window. She could see Sarah in the backseat, smiling to herself as she texted on her phone. Milan’s own phone lights up as she receives the girl’s message. The two of them had really gotten along when they met at dinner earlier. She wasn’t expecting the blonde girl to be so kind and welcoming. The entire family had been really kind. Wheezie was a cute kid and Rose seemed like every other tired housewife in their world. A little fake, but ultimately harmless. Ward seemed strict like her dad. He seemed to grit his teeth angrily at almost everything his family said, only to offer a wide smile when her own dad seemed pleased, or at the least unbothered. 

And Rafe. Rafe was…cute. Hot, he’s hot. He’s handsome and tall, and can talk to her dad about all that business shit she didn’t give a shit to try and understand. And he’s attracted to her. Milan can tell. His eyes were shooting between their fathers and her the whole dinner. She felt the intensity of them even as she reapplied her lip gloss, as she chatted with his sister, when she’d taken a selfie as she leaned against the headrest, posing both for the camera and him. 

But for some reason he’s wound so tight. As hot as it is, it can’t be healthy how frequently that muscle in his jaw jumps, keeping in rhythm with the bounce of his leg and the drumming on his fingers. Milan’s eyes flick across his movements and her lips part as she considers asking him if he was okay. Her voice catches in her throat when sharp, blue lands on deep brown and his brows raise as if he were asking a sarcastic ‘yes?’ When she shrugs lightly, smiling in return, he sends her a smirk before turning his gaze back to the road, peeling off at the light and turning up the music playing on the speaker to drown out his sister’s chatting. 

Milan blinks at the heat she feels on her face and refocuses on her phone, opening her messages from Sarah. 

Sorry about my brother. He’s a dick. When we get to the party you can hang with me. :)

The party was apparently at some house on the beach. Young adults were filling the walls of the building, spilling out onto the sand and grass. The music booms in the night air, and the smells of salt and weed fills their lungs.

Sarah pulls Milan along, their arms looped together as she guides her away from Rafe as quickly as possible. The man is clearly disinterested in following, offering Milan a brush on the shoulder before stalking off toward the back of the house, calls of his name in greeting following his arrival. 

“Oh okay, yeah, my friends are in the kitchen, c’mon.” Sarah tugs her the rest of the way, leading Milan to the dark kitchen over to a crowd of people. She recognizes one of the guys as the guy on Sarah’s phone. John B. she said his name was. Apparently, normally, Sarah stays with him at his house but Ward had asked her to come around today to meet with Milan’s family, and she did it because they were trying to ‘rebuild their family’. “Hi.”

John B. turns to her immediately, a grin spreading on his face as he pulls Sarah to him, effectively separating her and Milan. “Hi, baby.”

His loud blond friend with his arms draped around a pretty girl with brown skin peaks his head out from behind them, pausing mid story, and drunkenly causing his girl to stumble with him. The girl follows his gaze and offers her a kind smile, pushing the blond by his face, laughing at whatever he’s mumbling in her ear. “Hi,” she calls over the music. “I’m Angel. This drunk dumbass is JJ.” She huffs, as he gives Milan a wide grin and nod before guiding Angel’s face back to his.

The tall guy next to him is flanked by a shorter light skinned girl and a girl pouring shots, laughing with Sarah, calling her a lightweight with a thick accent. “Cleo. You want one?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a shot.” Milan shrugs. Her eyes squeeze shut as the liquid slides down her throat, burning it and her mouth. She shakes her head, before letting the warm feeling spread in her belly. A hand on her elbow grabs her attention and has her looking over her shoulder. 

“Come dance with me.” 

It’s some random guy, already tugging her toward the crowd of moving bodies, not waiting for her reply. “Oh, no thanks.” Milan plants her feet, stumbling a little against his pulling. 

“C’mon, you don’t like to dance?”

“No, I just don’t want to dance with you.” Milan chirps, glancing down at her nails to make sure he hadn’t made her accidentally knock a gem off. She watches as the guy’s face shifts from shock to a deep frown. He roughly releases her arm and storms off. She takes a couple steps back to where Sarah and her group are standing, seeing all of the couples wrapped into each other. The light skinned girl reaches her hand across the island counter to get her attention.

“You good? I was about to make my way over. The guys on this island are entitled assholes.” 

“Yeah, that’s guys everywhere. It’s never the cute ones that come to you, huh?”

“Nah, it’s generally the creeps and losers who feel bold.” The girl laughs. “I’m Kie, Kiara.” 

“Milan. Do you feel like dancing?” 

Kiara shrugs, mumbling a ‘why not’ glancing back at her own friends before taking Milan’s hand and leading her toward the sea of people dancing. Milan twirls Kie as they step onto the makeshift dance floor smiling as they begin dancing together. The two girls take turns spinning each other, holding each other’s hips and guiding their dance. Milan can feel several pairs of eyes on them as they rock against each other, the base of the drum in her ears and chest. But her eyes only searched for one set in particular. She allows Kiara to turn her and flips her hair out of her face. And then they are. Steely blue. 

Rafe blows smoke from his nose before licking his thumb, flicking through the stack of cash Kelce had just shoved into his hand. “Aight.” He nods, reaching his jacket pocket and producing a small bag of coke. He’d been giving Sarah and Milan space. For one, because he genuinely does not give a fuck what his hoe ass sister does. If she doesn’t give a fuck about the Cameron name then she could take that dirty pogue’s. On Milan’s end, Rafe was exercising self-restraint. He knows that now that they’re away from their families it wouldn’t take long for him to crack. She’d looked fucking gorgeous earlier that day, and even more so at dinner. Now that they were at a party, and he could take a fuckin’ second to breathe outside of Ward’s scrutiny…he’d break eventually. He was relying Sarah to keep her busy and away from him so he didn’t end up fucking her and fucking up the deal their fathers were trying to work out. 

“What the fuck? That’s it?”

Rafe’s brows furrow as he looks at his friend. “Yeah, you fuckin’ druggy, told you I needed to go see my supplier. Your fiend ass didn’t wanna fuckin’ wait, so take it.” 

“Shit.” Kelce scratches his head, scooping out some of the white powder and leaning forward on the couch to line it up on the coffee table. “Hey, that’s the girl from before right? At the club?”

Rafe looks up to find Milan across from him in the other room. He watches as she twirls and rolls her hips against Kiara’s. Her shiny dark hair bouncing from shoulder to shoulder and her pretty lips mouth along to the song that’s blasting throughout the house. He runs his thumb over his bottom lip as he watches her movements, completely unaware of the group of girls trying to flirt with him and offer him a bump on the couch next to him.

When they lock eyes her smile grows even brighter and his own becomes wolfish. Her movements become even more daring, she dips low, arching her back before coming back up quickly, flipping her hair and rolling her full body. Her hands cover Kiara’s on her hips as she puts on a show for him.  

Rafe chuckles darkly under his breath as he drinks her in, sitting back against the couch comfortably as if he’d paid for this little performance.

It all ends too quickly.

The song changes and Kiara leans into Milan’s ear, murmuring something and making a smoke motion before heading toward the sliding door in the kitchen. The girl is gone for like a few fucking seconds before the fuckin’ loser bastards that had been lurking around them pounce on Milan. Crowding her, trying to usher her into a dance. 

She pushes up onto her tiptoes, looking over some guy’s shoulder to regain eye contact with Rafe, an offer in her eyes as she motions him over with her finger. 

Shaking his head and smirking, Rafe pats his knee, challenging her. He cocks his head slightly to the side when she gently shakes her own head, and gestures for him to come to her with a single finger.

“Rafeeee, you got anymore?” A whiny voice calls to him. 

Right. He was supposed to be moving weight. Damn girl is distracting him. “Uh, yeah, I’m low right now, so I’ve only got baggies, aight?” 

“That’s fine,” the girl says flirtily. He rolls his eyes as he feels her hand on his knee. “You have discounts for pretty girls?”

His eyes drag back over to Milan and his jaw immediately clenches. She’s still facing him, but this time she had someone decidedly less acceptable in Rafe’s eyes clutching her. He watches as some prick who he used to play league basketball with when they were fuckhead teenagers basically nutting on Milan’s back. Rafe’s lip curls as he watches the girl dance for this guy. He couldn’t even think of his fucking name. Milan catches his eyes again, looking at him through her pretty lashes, shrugging absently. Seemingly completely unbothered by the goddamn loser basically humping her like a dog. Rafe feels his head swim dangerously and his stomach turn as he watches weak hands trail along her perfect body. Her brow quirks at him once before she turns in the guys arms, turning her back on Rafe. 

“Rafe?” The girl to his side looks at him questioningly, briefly trying to follow his gaze with her drug-addled brain, giving up and leaning on him again. 

“Uh, right, I’ll give it up for $200.” 

The girl’s eyes widen as she looks back at her friends who gesture for her to try again. She smiles at Rafe and tilts her head toward him. “Um, how much if we can hang out a little upstairs after?” 

“Oh shit.” Kelce chuckles, sniffing and wiping his nose. 

Rafe rolls his eyes. He’s so used to girls offering to sleep with him or suck his dick for drugs. Usually they at least ask him to give it to them for free, this girl was gonna fuck him for a discount. He rarely takes advantage of it, on doing it if he was trying to hit anyway. Really, he doesn’t have to exchange free drugs for getting his dick wet. Fuckin’ look at him.  

Right now, he wasn’t really in the mood for random pussy. Not when he literally can’t fucking see Milan in his line of sight anymore. And that fucking idiot that was grinding his dick on her was fucking gone too. He needed to look for her ASAP. “You got the $200 or what?”

The girl huffs and digs in her purse, dropping the money in his extended hand and snatching the bag off the table, grumbling ‘asshole’ under her breath as she and her friends stumble outside. 

As soon as Rafe pockets money he goes to shoot off of the couch to hunt Milan down, only to be stopped before he can fully stand. 

“Is that cocaine?” 

Milan’s sweet voice puts him on red alert. Rafe settles back into his seat and looks at her. She’s staring down at the table worriedly, wrapping her arms around herself as she stands in the doorway. “Was that guy a friend of yours?”

“You didn’t wanna dance.” she pouts.

“Okay?”

“And I wanted to dance.”

Brat. “So you, uh, just dance with some random dick instead?” He asks, giving her a disappointed look and relishing in the way she shifts under his gaze. 

Interestingly enough, even with his glare, she doesn’t back down, pursing her own lips and sitting on the arm of the couch. “Jeez, you’re strict, I feel bad for Sarah. Is that cocaine?”

“Yeah, I just provide a little party favor for my friends here and there. What, you want a bump?” He starts to test her limits, resting a large, warm hand on her thigh, feeling her through the thin fabric of her skirt. Careful not to move and startle her. 

“I don’t do coke. D’you?” 

It’s her wide-eyed look. The dimpled frown as she glances back down to the white substance on the table. She gives herself away to him easily. Milan is a good girl. She’s just a good girl who knows she’s pretty. That’s what the whole dance was about. She was being cute. That’s what she does. But she’s not really about shit. Daddy’s girl with a protective older brother. Two dragons guarding their little princess. Never had anyone tell her no and mean it. If Rafe used the logic in his brain, he would know, he’s too much. What he expects of the girls he hooks up with. God forbid dates. He’d turn this pretty little thing out. He should be nice, and leave her alone. 

But Rafe isn’t a nice guy. Not really.

“‘Course not, can’t get high on my own supply.” He smoothes a thumb over her knee. “Don’t worry, Princess, it can’t jump off the table and get you.”

Kelce snorts and Milan’s brows furrow. Rafe whips his head around to his friend, nudging him sharply and sending him a silent message. “Oh, uh, I’m gonna get another drink. I’ll be back.” Rafe sends him another look. “Or I won’t.”

As soon as Kelce gets up, Rafe scoots over on the couch, holding one of Milan’s hands and guiding her onto it with him. “That was one of your friends from earlier right? At the country club?” 

“Yeah, Kelce, he’s a fuckin’ idiot.” He says absently, reaching over and grabbing the blunt he’d abandoned when he’d started dealing, re-lighting it. “You don’t smoke weed either, huh?”

Milan shrugs, scooting closer. “I just don’t know how to do it by myself.” 

God she’s just fuckin’ perfect isn’t she? Rafe hangs his head, letting out an exasperated laugh. It’s like she was sent as a test. She’s already bad as shit, she’s just sitting here, damn near in his lap with her big fuck-me eyes and wide-open personality. She knows she’s sexy and that’s just about it. But her dad let her go because he was supposed to be responsible. That’s big money on the table, and Ward would fuckin’ kill him if he was distracted by the opportunity to hit on the literal oil baron’s daughter. “Figures, pretty thing like you can’t do anything by herself. What, you need me to light it for you?”

“I’ve only ever had someone shotgun it for me.” She says.

Rafe’s hand is at the back of her head, fist in her hair before he can even realize what he’s doing. He pulls her close, tugging her against him and halting right before she hits his lips. He brings the blunt to his own lips, inhaling the smoke before leaning even closer, drunk on the way she’s looking at him. “Yeah?”

When she gasps out a breath, offering him a little nod, already puckering her plump, lips for him.

Fuck it. Rafe thinks. 

He could be a responsible man for his dad tomorrow.

[frankbigfan]

I have something important to say,

In this post, everyone cursed me, yes it's true, I criticized this Haiden Post, The reason I hate it is because I see these all the time, I may have an opinion, yes it is my right, but if I infringe on other people's rights, it is my stupidity... I apologize to everyone ( It's your choice to forgive or not to forgive) I shouldn't have talked about everyone's drawings yep...

Because I see it all the time, I don't see anyone drawing Frank. Not a bit of an insult to the other pictures... It's just Frank not being there that makes me sad ( I'm not making dram ) You're right, yes. But The character of Hakon is always loved, The others are good too, I don't understand why they like it so much, I think Rowe and Frank characters should be here too. (I don't mean be a fan or love it.) It would be good to add other characters to Dying Light 2 tag in Tumblr or Twitter or other.) I can't force you, you are human too, you have the right of course 🤝

Another thing is, I'm not a bad person. But I'm lonely, social but shy, Antisocial or something... I might get mad because they don't like Frank. The only character I really like is Frank Marvey. Others I like very little.. I was just doing what everyone else liked. I was silent... I'm not making drama, some people might think so...

I truly apologize to these people, forgiving them doesn't matter, nor does not forgiving them. I know I'm not that good Person, I think they is really Baby Girl or something. I hope you don't think badly of me when I explain this.

But saying "fuck you, bitch Idiot" I am an emotional person who gets upset when it is said,

I'm very very sorry guys 🥲

Hey.... are you guys alive....

[the-saucy-wave-equation]

coming to the conclusion that the kind of writing that my old PI wants is overly simplified because she's overworked and just not thinking straight a bunch of the time

[front-facing-pokemon]