#which I’m pretty sure counts as drug possession
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‘The name’s Juno Steel - I’m new to crime, but I’ve been doing illegal shit for years.’
the fact that all the other aurinkos are criminals who know of each other's exploits while juno's over there like "???" is fuckin hilarious because everyone's like "this is jet sikuliaq, the unnatural disaster" "this is buddy aurinko renowned crime boss and daughter of palomine aurinko" "this is vespa ilkay renowned assassin" "this is peter nureyev the angel of brahma"
and you know juno's sitting there frantically space googling everyone
#cue the Hyperion City guitar riff#no but seriously tho it is hysterical#these are all career/infamous criminals#(even Rita!!)#and then we have Mr Steel#the cop who copped so hard he got fired for being anti corruption#but who also ran around Old Town breaking and entering#will eat random pills he finds on the ground#which I’m pretty sure counts as drug possession#and don’t even get me STARTED on the Theta shenanigans#and our Juno is like ‘crime’???#‘me’????#LIKE BRO#DUDE#MY GUY#the penumbra podcast#juno steel#tpp spoilers#tpp#the aurinko crime family
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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (07)
MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader
Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.
Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.
Word Count: 8.1k
Aliyah's Notes: the way i wanted this chapter to be around 5k... but anyw, the ending to that chapter is pretty good so y'all can rest in peace lmaoo but problems are coming hehehehehe
The sound of her heels clicking on the pavement cut through the evening air, each step echoing louder than the last. You barely registered the chill of the evening as her figure came into view—Chiara Romano, arms folded over her chest, her expression a delicate balance of innocence and something unmistakably venomous. A small, mocking smile played at the corners of her lips, her gaze roaming over you with the kind of appraisal that felt like a slap.
Beside you, Rafe tensed, his gaze hardening as he straightened, clearly prepared for whatever barbs she had in store. You forced yourself to stand taller, meeting her gaze with a coolness you could barely muster.
“Chiara,” you said, injecting a polite edge into your voice that you knew was as fake as her smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, I just felt like things ended a bit... strange at the party,” she replied, her tone sugary sweet yet laced with something bitter. “Especially after seeing the headlines about you.” She let out a small sigh, as though feigning concern. “I couldn’t help but worry.”
A sharp laugh almost slipped from your lips. The headlines. She was talking about the recent media talking about your “potential” relapse… which were true. News of your recent struggles had been going viral, and she was here to dangle them in front of you. The reality of your relapse was raw, but admitting it—especially to Chiara—was out of the question.
“Did you, now?” You kept your voice light, your smile tight as you watched her closely.
“Of course,” she nodded, her eyes darting pointedly between you and Rafe, her expression softening with feigned empathy. “Us girls have to look out for each other,” she added, a hint of mock sincerity weaving through her words. “I just hope Rafe’s taking excellent care of you. I mean, if he’s able to.”
You fought the urge to roll your eyes or worse—to let your anger slip through. Instead, you returned her smile with a casual shrug. “He is, thank you,” you replied, forcing your tone to stay neutral. “And I’m doing just fine. I haven’t relapsed—.”
“You sure?” she pressed, her voice a touch too innocent. “You look... thinner than I remember.”
You felt a twisted sort of satisfaction creeping in, an internal smile that you kept hidden. It was strange—almost absurd—but her attempt to make you feel small, to jab at your insecurities, did the opposite. She said it to be cruel; she thought her words would cut you deeply. But instead, they landed somewhere softer, failing to sting the way she intended.
Rafe’s voice cut through the tension, his tone sharp and commanding, filled with an authority that even you hadn’t heard from him before. “Alright, that’s enough,” he warned, his words laced with a chill that could silence a room. “Keep talking like that, and you’ll be the one making headlines.”
Chiara’s gaze flicked to Rafe, her lips curling into a sly smile, undeterred by his warning. “Oh, Rafe, always so protective,” she cooed, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “I thought we were past all that. After all, we did come here together.”
You blinked, the words sinking in like a stone dropping into still water, each ripple spreading through you. “You… came here with him?” you asked, keeping your voice steady, though your heart was pounding.
Chiara’s smile widened, a hint of triumph in her expression. “Of course. We just thought it’d be convenient, didn’t we, Rafe?”
Your eyes shifted to him, searching his face for any denial, some sign that this was just another one of her games. But Rafe stayed silent, his expression tinged with guilt, lips pressed together as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.
He had, in fact, come with her.
The air thick, with Chiara’s truth and Rafe’s guilty silence. Every moment he said nothing, the disappointment pooled deeper in your chest, twisting painfully.
You crossed your arms, your gaze hardening as you looked at him. “Convenient?” The word slipped from your mouth, laced with bitter disbelief. “Convenient for who, exactly?”
Rafe opened his mouth, struggling to find the right words, but nothing came out. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he might deny it, try to explain. But his shoulders sagged slightly, defeated, as he glanced away.
Chiara’s voice broke the silence, her tone feigning sympathy. “Oh, don’t be upset. It’s not like you’re the only woman in his life, right?” She leaned back with a satisfied smile, clearly relishing the wedge she’d managed to drive between you.
“Alright, you know what?” you said, forcing a calm into your voice that belied the anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I don’t really care what arrangement you two have. But what I’d like to know, Chiara, is why you’re actually here. What do you want?”
Chiara’s smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, before she recovered, her expression shifting to a mischievous glint. “I’m here to support my father’s event, naturally,” she replied smoothly. “But I couldn’t resist the chance to catch up with Rafe and see how… everything’s going with you two.”
You felt the anger begin to surge again, but you reined it in, straightening and lifting your chin. “Then let’s hope tonight’s as memorable as you’re expecting.” You threw a final look at Rafe, disappointment flickering in your gaze.
With that, you walked toward the car and sat in the passenger seat, forcing yourself to ignore the ache in your chest as you disappeared into the throng of people.
From the corner of your eye, you watched Rafe and Chiara exchange a few heated words. His jaw clenched as he spoke, his eyes narrowed in a way that told you he was holding back the anger simmering just beneath the surface. Chiara, on the other hand, looked anything but apologetic, her expression smug as she responded with an air of indifference. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but every movement, every flash of irritation in Rafe’s eyes only deepened the tight knot of frustration in your chest.
Before long, they finally turned, heading toward the car, and you forced yourself to look away and just focus on the city lights ahead of you. The silence that filled the car was thick, unbearably tense. The engine hummed beneath you, but the weight of everything unsaid made each passing second feel longer. You kept your eyes on the window, refusing to break the silence, even as your exhaustion began to creep in, your eyelids growing heavy.
Just as you started to drift, you felt him lean forward, his breath warm against your ear as he broke the silence, his voice low and soft. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, the apology laced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.
You exhaled sharply, holding back the initial pang of anger. “You’re sorry?” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you finally turned to face him, one eyebrow raised. “For what, exactly? For keeping me in the dark? For thinking I wouldn’t notice you driving here with her?”
Rafe’s expression softened, his guilt evident as he held your gaze, searching for the right words. “It wasn’t like that. She… she just showed up. I didn’t think—”
You scoffed, cutting him off. “That’s the problem. You didn’t think. Or maybe you did, and just didn’t care to clue me in.” As his apology hung in the air, you couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable,” you muttered, refusing to look at him. “So what, Cameron? You thought I’d just sit there and take it?”
He shifted closer, his voice strained. “I told you, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t invite her. She just… she knew I was coming here, and it felt easier to—”
“Easier?” You turned in your seat to face him, disbelief and frustration clear in your eyes. “Easier for who, exactly? Because it sure as hell wasn’t easier for me.”
Rafe’s gaze dropped, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel. “Look, I know how it looks, but… she was already in the car before I could even think about it. I didn’t want to make a scene.”
You narrowed your eyes, unimpressed. “So, you thought the best plan was to just go along with her? To let her be seen with you, knowing exactly how that would make me look?”
“Y/N, I know I messed up, okay?” He leaned closer, the regret in his eyes almost palpable. “I was just trying to keep things calm. I didn’t want it to turn into something it didn’t have to be.”
“Oh, so you didn’t want to ‘make a scene’ with her, but now you’re perfectly fine with making me feel like an idiot?” you shot back, folding your arms. “How considerate of you.”
Rafe let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. “Can’t you just trust that I was doing what I thought was right?”
You rolled your eyes, the bitterness evident in your tone. “I don’t trust you.” You turned away, staring at the passing lights outside. "And you’re only apologizing now because you got caught."
He was silent for a moment, the weight of your words settling in. “I don’t want to keep doing this, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to feel like this… like I don’t care.”
You laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Then stop giving me reasons to feel this way.”
You leaned against the window, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the passing city lights. During the car ride, Chiara, for once, seemed to get the hint and kept her mouth shut, though every so often you caught her glancing at Rafe through the rearview mirror. Rafe, on the other hand, drove with a steady determination, occasionally glancing at you as though he was waiting for you to say something���anything—that might break the unbearable quiet. But you refused to give him that satisfaction, and instead, kept your focus outward, on anything but the two people in the car with you.
As the car rolled to a stop in front of the charity venue, Chiara was quick to jump out, immediately making a beeline for her father, who was waiting near the entrance. The flash of photographers’ cameras lit up the scene, and she threw a gleeful smile their way, basking in the attention as she reached her father’s side.
You took a steady breath and turned to Rafe, letting out a sigh that seemed to carry every ounce of frustration you’d been holding onto. He was watching you, his expression caught somewhere between apology and uncertainty.
“Alright, Cameron,” you began, forcing a professional tone. “Let’s get this over with. We need a story to tell about how we met, so listen to me; we met through a mutual friend at some rooftop party in the city. You were immediately smitten.”
“Smitten?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow. His mouth curved into a playful grin. “Strong word there. Don’t know if I’ve ever been ‘smitten.’”
“Well, you have now,” you said without missing a beat. “We sat at the same table, and you told me some fake, but charming story about how you don’t like crowds and would rather be anywhere else.”
“So, I’m just a liar?” he said with a grin.
“Yes, apparently,” you said, your voice flat as you rolled your eyes.
“That’s deserved, alright,” he shrugged, and leaned closer. “But, let’s make this fun. How about we tweak the story a bit? Let’s say you chased me down after that rooftop party, practically begging for my number.”
“You must be high,” you scoffed, looking at him like he’d just suggested the earth was flat. “No one would believe I’d chase after you. Besides, I’d rather walk across hot coals than let people think I was desperate for you.”
Rafe gave a lighthearted shrug, clearly entertained by your reaction. “Alright, but if anyone asks, I’ll just say I was the reluctant charmer who had to be convinced.”
You couldn’t help the sarcastic laugh that slipped out. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘charm’ like ghosting someone for two weeks.”
He winced but quickly recovered, that easy smirk slipping back into place. “Ouch. Alright, I deserved that one too. But admit it, you’d be impressed if I played hard-to-get. It’d add some mystery to our ‘relationship.’”
You deadpanned, “It’d add some credibility if you remembered the actual story. Try to keep up with the backstory, Cameron. We’re supposed to be in love, remember?”
Rafe placed a hand on his heart, feigning a wounded expression. “So cruel. Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you’re just brushing me off like I’m nothing.”
You stared at him, unimpressed. “How does that feel, huh? To be brushed off?”
His smile dropped immediately. “I’ll stick to the script. Mutual friends, a little bit of rooftop magic, and me falling head over heels. Got it.”
“Good. And try to remember: we’ve been dating long enough that you’d know basic things, like my favorite color and the fact that I don’t like seafood.”
“Got it,” he said with a nod, giving you a mock salute. Then, with a sly grin, he added, “Anything else I should know? Like, if you’ve got a celebrity crush, maybe?”
You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smile despite yourself. “This is a charity event, Cameron, not a middle school dance. Stick to the basics, and we’ll be fine.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, boss. Just wanted to know if I’ve got any competition out there.”
You couldn’t help but scoff. “Trust me, you’d know if there was competition.”
The banter fell into a comfortable silence, the tension lifting slightly as you both prepared for the performance ahead. But as you glanced out the window, watching Chiara drape herself over her father’s arm like she owned the place, the humor faded, and a steely resolve settled over you.
Rafe must have noticed, because he leaned forward, his expression growing more serious. “Hey, I know tonight’s going to be… less than ideal,” he said, his tone softening. “But we’ve got this. Just follow my lead if things get tricky, alright?”
You looked at him, skepticism still lingering, but his sincerity caught you off guard. “Let’s just keep this professional,” you replied, but your tone was gentler, almost reluctant.
“Deal,” he said, giving you a small, genuine smile. “Let’s make ‘em believe it.”
With that, he opened his door and walked around to your side, offering you his hand as you stepped out. You hesitated, then took it, maintaining a cool composure as camera flashes went off around you. The crowd erupted in a flurry of clicks and flashes, and you could already hear the low hum of voices speculating about the two of you.
Rafe leaned down slightly, his hand resting lightly on your back as he guided you forward. “Smile like you’re the happiest you’ve ever been,” he whispered, his tone playful but warm. “And maybe… just pretend you don’t want to strangle me for a few minutes.”
You tilted your head, flashing him a fake, overly-sweet smile. “Oh, trust me, that’ll be the hardest part.”
He chuckled, giving the reporters a charming wave as he leaned in, whispering back, “Keep smiling like that, and people might actually believe you like me.”
You leaned in closer, maintaining the smile for the cameras. “Don’t get too comfortable. This is just for show.”
“Right,” he whispered, a teasing glint in his eye. “But if we happen to have a little fun, is that so bad?”
Before you could answer, Chiara’s voice rang out over the crowd, all fake sweetness as she greeted her father, loudly proclaiming her excitement for the event. You caught Rafe’s eye, sharing a look of silent exasperation.
“Stick to the story. Don’t slip up.”
“Got it, boss,” he whispered back, his tone lighthearted as he gave you a quick wink. “Let’s go give them a show.”
You sipped your champagne, feigning interest in the event as your gaze flickered over the crowd, hoping to find something—anything—to break up the monotony. Conversations about Rafe’s latest matches, your recent shoot for Vogue, and even the upcoming Chanel campaign rolled through the evening like clockwork, the same pleasantries exchanged over and over. Rafe played his part perfectly, always flashing that magnetic smile, leaning in as if every word you said was his world. You kept a poised expression, smiling when necessary, but each compliment and question blended into the next, leaving you restless.
Just as you managed to suppress a yawn, a commanding voice sounded from behind. “Y/N Y/L/N, the woman of the hour.” You turned, and there stood Charles Kensington, a CEO of one of the event’s largest sponsors, known as much for his relentless pursuit of younger models as for his cutthroat business strategies. He extended a hand with a smirk that was more predatory than friendly, his gaze sweeping over you with an appreciation that lingered far too long. “I’m Charles Kesington. It’s a pleasure.”
“Likewise,” you replied politely, giving him a polite smile as you shook his hand. “And congratulations on your company’s recent acquisition. Impressive move.”
Charles smiled, clearly pleased. “Ah, you’ve been keeping up, I see. You’re as sharp as they say.” His gaze lingered, a touch too intense, and his hand remained over yours a second longer than necessary. “And I must say, even more beautiful in person. Your upcoming campaign with Chanel is already causing quite a buzz.”
Rafe’s arm tightened around your waist as he turned to face Charles, his smile polite but lacking warmth. “Nice to see you, Charles.”
Charles nodded at Rafe, though his attention stayed firmly on you. “I’ve seen your work everywhere recently,” he said, his voice dropping into an intimate tone. “Chanel made a wise choice—although I’d argue that any brand would be lucky to have you representing them.”
“Thank you,” you replied coolly, catching the faint annoyance in Rafe’s jaw as it clenched. But Charles either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“You’re too kind, Mr. Kensington,” you replied, ignoring the way his eyes drifted over you. “And thank you. I’m honored to be working with such a renowned brand.”
“Oh, please,” he said, dismissing the formality with a wave of his hand. “Call me Charles. You know, I’d love to see you star in one of our campaigns someday. I’d love to discuss a potential collaboration over dinner,” he added, his voice lowering just enough to feel like a private invitation, despite Rafe’s presence.
You forced a polite laugh, though you felt Rafe’s grip tighten again. “Thank you, Charles. That’s very generous but—”
Rafe cleared his throat, the sound deliberate. “Actually, Y/N’s schedule is pretty packed for the next few months,” he said, his tone friendly but laced with an unmistakable edge. “With the Chanel campaign, her other upcoming works, and our time together, I’m not sure there’s room for much else.”
Charles raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rafe with an amused smile, as if he’d only just noticed him standing there. “Ah, Mr. Cameron. Quite a lucky man, aren’t you?”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, but he managed a tight smile. “I’d say so.”
Charles leaned a bit closer, his attention fixed back on you. “Well, if you ever find a free moment, I’d be more than happy to take you on a tour of our headquarters. You know, just to chat about future opportunities.”
The thinly veiled invitation hung in the air, and you felt a slight discomfort, but you kept your smile in place. “Thank you for the offer, Charles. But as my boyfriend mentioned, I’m quite busy these days.”
Charles’ gaze flicked between the two of you, his smile widening slightly, clearly enjoying the tension he’d stirred up. “Of course. I understand entirely,” he replied smoothly, offering you a final lingering look before excusing himself.
The moment he was out of earshot, Rafe turned to you, his expression thunderous. “What the hell was that?”
You blinked, feigning innocence. “What was what?”
“That guy was practically undressing you with his eyes,” he muttered, his tone low and irritated. “And you didn’t seem too bothered by it.”
You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Maybe because I don’t see the point in making a scene over a harmless conversation.”
Rafe scoffed, his hand still firmly around your waist. “Harmless? That guy was two seconds away from asking for your number.”
You rolled your eyes, barely managing to hide your smirk. “Jealous, Cameron?”
Rafe’s gaze hardened, and he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you think I’m just going to stand there while some old fucker tries to flirt with you, you’re wrong.”
The intensity in his voice sent a flicker of satisfaction through you, though you kept your expression neutral. “Relax, Mike Tyson. It was just a conversation. It’s not like he’s the first man to ever show interest in me.”
“Yeah, well,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing, “he should know you’re off-limits.”
You shot him a sidelong glance, amused by his possessiveness. “Is that right? I don’t recall signing any contract that says I’m ‘off-limits.’”
His grip tightened, his face a mixture of frustration and something else—something deeper, something he was clearly trying to suppress. “You’re my girlfriend and about to become my wife, consider it an unspoken rule, then.”
You felt a thrill at his words, but you kept your tone casual. “If that’s the case, maybe you should make it more convincing.”
He leaned closer, his hand brushed against your cheek, fingers lingering just enough to send a spark through you. “Convincing?”
His eyes never left yours, flickering briefly to your lips, and you could feel the heat building between you, a tension that seemed to stretch out endlessly. The hum of the event around you began to fade, and suddenly, it was as if there was no one else in the room—just the two of you, drawn together by something that felt far more complicated than a simple arrangement.
His breath, warm and steady against your skin, made your pulse quicken. You found yourself instinctively closing your eyes as his face came even closer, the space between you narrowing with every passing second. The moment was electric, charged with an undeniable pull that you could no longer ignore.
For the briefest moment, you forgot all the reasons you’d been upset with him in the first place. His proximity, the way he looked at you, the way his lips seemed so close—it was almost impossible to think about anything else. You ached to feel him again, to taste his lips, to feel the weight of his body against yours. All that mattered was the way your skin burned for him, how every nerve in you seemed to come alive at the thought of him touching you again. You wanted him.
Desperately.
But just before his lips touched yours, a familiar voice cut through the quiet intensity.
"Y/N! There you are!” Aisha’s voice was bright and unapologetic, carrying her trademark liveliness that filled any room. Startled, you and Rafe pulled apart just in time to see her approach, her arms outstretched and a radiant smile on her face.
You could only laugh as she practically tackled you with a hug, pulling you in tightly. Standing just a few inches taller than you, her warm brown skin glowed against the dark emerald of her satin dress, a color that complemented her deeply curly hair that cascaded freely around her shoulders. Her high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes sparkled with joy, her makeup accentuating her features with a natural, dewy look and a bold cat-eye makeup.
"Oh my God!" you managed through your laughter. "I had no idea you’d arrived already."
She finally released you from the hug but kept her hands on your shoulders, looking you over with a proud, glowing smile. “As if I’d miss this! You look absolutely breathtaking, girl—that dress was made for you. No one else could do it justice.”
You spun around, letting the fabric fan out as you struck a playful pose. “You really like it?”
“Like it? I am in-freaking-love, are you serious?” she squealed, and the two of you burst into laughter, clapping your hands together with giddy excitement. “I’ve missed you so much.”
You pressed a hand to your forehead, sighing dramatically. “I’ve missed you way more—can you believe it’s only been a year and I’m already involved with a white man? Truly, how crazy is that?”
Aisha’s gaze snapped to Rafe, who stood a little behind you, clearly surprised to be noticed so suddenly. You stifled a laugh as he shifted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Aisha's eyes narrowed slightly as she took him in, her gaze appraising and unblinking, as if she was assessing him for every possible flaw.
“Rafe Cameron, meet Aisha Patel—my best friend,” you said, tugging Aisha closer. “Aisha, this is Rafe, my... boyfriend.”
She didn’t say a word, just let her eyes scan him from head to toe with a critical intensity. You recognized this familiar expression—it was her way of warning anyone interested in you that hurting you would come with consequences. She always put your partners through this silent scrutiny, hoping to rattle them and make it clear they had to earn her approval.
Rafe, though clearly aware of her intent, extended his hand, maintaining an uneasy but polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Aisha.”
For a split second, she didn’t budge, letting the moment stretch just long enough to make him shift uncomfortably. You quickly grabbed her hand, easing it into his before she could escalate the standoff. “She’s usually much friendlier, I swe—”
“My dad has a gun,” she said quietly, her tone so flat it made the tension in the air sharpen. “And he taught me how to use it.”
You laughed a little, trying to ease the weight of her words. “She’s just kidding… right?”
But she didn’t break. Her gaze stayed fixed on Rafe, unwavering. “Only one way to find out, Rafe Cameron,” she replied coldly.
Rafe’s eyes flickered, and after a long moment, he dropped his gaze with a tight nod. “Guess I know where Y/N got her threatening techniques from,” he said with a small grin, the usual smugness back in his voice.
His expression, so casual and light, cut deeper than you expected. It felt like he knew exactly what he was doing, toying with a conversation he’d read from a distance and kept deliberately unanswered. He’d seen your texts, read every one of them, and left them cold and untouched. You felt the hurt creeping up in a way that left you exposed, vulnerable in a way you swore you wouldn’t be around him.
You pulled in a slow breath, forcing your face back to neutral, hoping Aisha wouldn’t notice the flicker of pain in your eyes. She turned to say something to Rafe, and you straightened, pulling your walls up as fast as you could, sealing the hurt beneath a calm you’d mastered. Just one more second, and no one would ever know.
Aisha leaned forward, curious but amused. “So… how’d you two meet?”
You shot Rafe a quick look, and he gave a subtle nod, leaving you to tell the story. “We met a few months back at this party,” you started.
“Rooftop party,” Rafe corrected, unable to resist chiming in.
“Right, a rooftop party,” you agreed, giving him a playful look. “And the second he laid eyes on me, he was enchanted—absolutely down bad,” you teased, letting a smirk cross your face.
Rafe raised an eyebrow, giving a mock-serious nod. “Completely leveled me. Could barely walk straight after that.”
“Completely down bad,” you agreed, tilting your head with a smile. “Apparently, my beauty was just too blinding. He had no choice but to come talk to me, and once he did? Well, he realized I was so much more than a pretty face. He was hooked on how charming, funny, and—”
“And how sassy she was,” Rafe finished, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary.
Aisha looked between the two of you, raising an eyebrow. “Sassy with you? Really?”
Rafe laughed, running a hand through his hair. “That mouth of hers—I swear, there’s not a single day where she’s not giving me that attitude,” he added with a soft smile in your direction.
“Interesting… Very interesting.” Aisha looked between you two with a grin, shaking her head. “And, what happened after that?”
Rafe leaned back, crossing his arms as he tried to act casual. "Well, after that, I pretty much chased her down just to get a date," he said with a smirk. "The rest is history."
You rolled your eyes, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, he’s underselling it. He spent weeks trying to get my number, asking me out every day on Instagram, but I wasn’t having it. I kept hearing all these things about him…"
"Like what?" Aisha leaned in, eyes widening in anticipation.
"That he was a total player," you said, pausing for effect, earning a gasp from Aisha that you matched with a knowing nod. Meanwhile, Rafe just chuckled, shaking his head at your theatrics. "I know, girl!" you went on, shooting Rafe a playful look. "But he finally convinced me to go on a date… and he actually wasn’t so bad. So I gave him another shot, and, well…" You shrugged, glancing over at him with a smile. "Here we are."
Aisha took it all in, folding her arms and tapping her fingers thoughtfully.
“Wow,” she said, eyeing him with newfound curiosity. “I didn’t peg you for the persistent type, Rafe. Especially not with someone like my girl.”
Rafe shot her a confident smile, though there was a quiet warmth in his expression that didn’t quite match the usual cocky bravado. “Yeah, she’s special. Knew it from the moment I saw her.”
You couldn’t help the warmth that rushed through you at his words, a sudden rush of affection you hadn’t expected, especially not in front of Aisha. There was something in the way he looked at you that made the air feel thicker, charged with something unspoken. It sent an unexpected flutter through your chest, a reminder that underneath all the tension, the public facade, and the expectations, there was still something raw between you—something that felt real in a way you hadn’t quite anticipated.
“Smooth talker, huh?” you teased, nudging Rafe lightly with your elbow. “You’re really laying it on thick tonight, aren’t you?”
Aisha’s sharp eyes flicked between you both, her protective instincts clearly on high alert. “Yeah, I’m picking up on that. But just so you know, Rafe, I’ve got my eye on you. You hurt her, and you won’t just be dealing with me, you’ll be dealing with my dad, too.”
Rafe’s lips curved into a smile, but there was something more guarded behind his eyes now, as though he recognized the weight of her words. “I get it,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Aisha seemed to size him up for a moment longer, letting the silence stretch just enough to make the air thick with tension. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she gave a slow nod, her stance softening just a little. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” she said, her tone easing. “But I’m still watching.”
You felt a strange sense of pride at that. Aisha had always been fiercely protective of you, and while it sometimes grated on your nerves, you knew deep down it was just because she cared. No one had ever had your back the way she did. You weren’t sure if Rafe fully understood that yet, but from the way he glanced at her—slightly uncertain, but respectful—you could tell he was beginning to get the message.
“Enough of the heavy shit,” Aisha said, breaking the tension with a clap of her hands and a sudden bright smile. “This is supposed to be fun, right? I’m here to celebrate, and I’m done with the interrogation. So, let’s have some fucking fun!”
You laughed, the sound light and genuine as you clinked your glass with hers. The champagne sparkled in your hand, and for the first time that evening, you felt a sense of relief. The weight of the conversation had shifted from uncomfortable to just... amusing. Aisha was nothing if not relentless in her approach, but you appreciated the way she could lighten any situation, especially when it felt like the pressure of your fake engagement was hanging over your head like a storm cloud.
“To my best friend and her very determined boyfriend,” Aisha toasted, her grin widening. “May you both drive each other crazy for a long, long time!”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Aish’. Really. A long, long time,” you echoed, sipping from your glass as she gave you a knowing look.
As the evening wore on, the atmosphere began to shift. The crowd mingled, voices rose and fell in an endless tide of conversation, and the hum of background music seemed to fade into the distance. It felt like the world was in motion, but you and Rafe were standing still, caught in some kind of unspoken orbit that neither of you could quite navigate.
People came and went, exchanging pleasantries, business deals, and compliments, but you and Rafe couldn’t seem to look away from each other. Even when he was speaking with someone else or laughing at a joke Aisha made, you felt his presence, heavy and undeniable.
You’d told yourself that tonight was about putting on a show for the cameras, about playing the part of the perfect couple, and you had every intention of sticking to the script. But as the night wore on, you realized how hard it was to keep pretending when Rafe’s touch lingered just a little longer than necessary, when his eyes followed you across the room with that possessive intensity you couldn’t quite ignore. There were moments when you caught him looking at you like no one else mattered, and for a brief second, the walls you’d so carefully constructed between the two of you threatened to crumble.
It wasn’t just the way he touched you when no one was looking, or the way he’d half-smiled at you in the middle of a crowd, as if sharing some private joke. It was the small things—the subtle ways he’d let you know he cared, even when he was keeping his distance. How his arm would brush against yours when you stood next to each other, how he’d glance at you in the middle of a conversation, as if checking to make sure you were still there, still paying attention. How he’d subtly reposition his hand on your waist, or how his thumb would brush against your back when you’d lean in close to hear something better.
And then, there were the moments when it seemed like neither of you knew how to deal with the chemistry that crackled between you. You’d both been avoiding it for so long, keeping your emotions buried under layers of professionalism and convenience, but tonight, it was becoming harder to ignore. The closer you got, the more the lines between what was real and what was fabricated began to blur.
A sudden vibration in your pocket startled you, pulling you out of your reverie. You slid your phone out, heart still racing from the interaction with Rafe, and your eyes immediately landed on the name that made your stomach drop: Mom.
Your heart skipped a beat as you unlocked the screen, only to see a simple message that made your blood run cold:
“Y/N, we’ve heard the news. This is a disgrace. This is not how we raised you. You’re nothing but a joke.”
You blinked at the message, trying to process it. News? What news? You hadn’t even talked to them in years.
Before you could think further, the sickening feeling in your stomach intensified. Without even realizing it, you clicked over to the news app, and the headline that greeted you nearly stopped your heart:
“Rafe Cameron Engaged to Model Y/N Y/L/N: A Surprise Announcement”
Your pulse spiked, your fingers trembling as you scrolled down. The article was filled with blurry images from earlier in the evening, showing you and Rafe sharing moments too intimate for the cameras, your faces filled with a mix of affection and tension. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t supposed to be this fast.
How could this have leaked?
Your chest tightened as a suffocating wave of panic hit you. You could feel your breath quicken, the world around you suddenly feeling too small, too fast, and you couldn’t catch your breath. You looked around the room, your vision blurring as the walls seemed to close in. The voices around you grew muffled, the lights too bright, too harsh.
“Y/N?”
Rafe’s voice pulled you back to reality, but it was distant, like it came from a far-off place. You tried to focus on him, on his familiar blue eyes, but everything felt off, like you couldn’t quite make sense of what was happening.
The phone dropped from your hand, and before you knew it, your vision went dark. Your breath hitched in your chest as your body trembled with the onset of a panic attack. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control, and you couldn’t do anything to stop it.
And then, in the midst of it all, you felt it—something slipping from your bag pocket, a small metallic sound against the floor. But you couldn’t focus on it. Not now. Not with everything else overwhelming you. Your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out the noise around you as you tried to steady yourself, hands trembling at your sides.
You heard the faint clink again, but you were too far gone, too panicked, to care.
Rafe’s arms were around you before you even realized he was there, his voice low and urgent. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” His hand was on your back, guiding you gently but firmly as he led you outside, away from the noise and chaos of the event.
“I—I—” Your words faltered, and you gasped for air, trying to calm your breathing, but it was like your lungs had stopped working.
“Shh, just breathe, baby, okay?” Rafe’s voice was steady, guiding you through it like he’d done this before. His hand was pressing into your back in rhythmic motions, trying to ground you. “You’re okay, I promise.”
You leaned against him, trying to steady your frantic breathing, but it was hard. Everything felt so chaotic, too fast. The news. The message from your parents. Rafe. Your relapse. The engagement. The shame. The eyes on you.
“I… I got a message from my parents,” you managed to gasp between breaths. “They already know... the news... I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for any of this, Rafe.”
His face softened, but there was confusion in his eyes. He looked like he didn’t fully understand, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he just nodded and gave you a reassuring squeeze, his arms enveloping you in warmth. “Hey, it’s alright. We’ll figure this out. I’ve got you, okay?”
You buried your face in his chest, as if you’ve been doing forever, the tears finally coming, and you didn’t even try to hold them back. Your body shook as the sobs wracked through you. Everything felt like it was falling apart, all the control you’d tried so hard to maintain slipping through your fingers. The fake engagement, the pressure to live up to everyone’s expectations, the constant balancing act—it was too much.
“Shhh,” Rafe murmured again, his voice a steady, comforting presence against the storm inside you. “You’re okay, baby. We’re gonna get through this.”
Still shaking, you pulled away slightly, wiping your face with the back of your hand as you tried to steady yourself. Rafe didn’t push you away. He just stayed close, his hands hovering near you, ready to catch you if you needed him.
“I can’t… I can’t do this. Not like this,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you spoke. “Everything’s happening too fast. I didn’t expect it to go like this, Rafe. I didn’t plan for my parents to know about this. It’s not supposed to be like this.”
He seemed to register the panic in your voice, though he still didn’t fully understand why it was affecting you like this. Still, he didn’t question you further. He just nodded again, that protective instinct rising in him. “Alright, we’ll get you home, okay?”
You nodded quietly as he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the fabric warm against your skin. If you weren’t so caught up in your emotions, you might have found the gesture cute. “Yes, please…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Just relax, okay? I’m right here.”
Before you knew it, he was guiding you toward his car, his hand firmly but gently around your arm as he helped you get inside. The drive home was a blur, your mind a chaotic mess of racing thoughts. You tried to fight the exhaustion pulling at you, but it was useless. As soon as you buckled your seatbelt, your body seemed to give up the fight.
You curled up against the seat, closing your eyes, and within minutes, you were asleep. The quiet hum of the car as Rafe drove was the only thing that kept you tethered to reality.
Rafe glanced over at you every few moments as he drove, the concern never leaving his face. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you tonight, not since the moment the tension between you had grown so palpable. He could feel it in his chest—the fear that something would go wrong, that something would happen to make everything fall apart.
As he looked at you now, sleeping peacefully, he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him. He didn’t understand it—didn’t fully understand what was happening between the two of you—but the depth of concern he felt for you surprised him. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d wanted to protect you, how he’d wanted to be there for you when you needed it the most.
But now, as you slept, he realized something he hadn’t allowed himself to admit before: he didn’t want to lose you. The idea of seeing you hurt, seeing you break down, sent a pang of guilt through him. He hadn’t planned on this feeling, hadn’t planned on the way he’d come to care about you, but it was undeniable now.
Being away from you for two weeks made him come to a few undeniable realizations. He missed you—more than he’d like to admit. He missed the way your smile lit up the room whenever you looked at him, the playful roll of your eyes when you thought he was being ridiculous. He missed the banter, the little jabs you’d throw his way, always keeping him on his toes. Most of all, he missed hearing your voice, the way it grounded him in ways he never expected.
He regretted everything—the distance, the silence, the mess he’d made—and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to make it right.
The car approached your apartment building, Rafe slowed down, glancing over at you one last time. You hadn’t stirred for a while, and he didn’t want to wake you up too abruptly, but he knew you needed to get out. He gently reached over and brushed your shoulder, speaking softly.
“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice careful as if not wanting to startle you. “We’re here.”
You blinked a few times, slowly coming to, the remnants of sleep fading from your face as you sat up straight. For a moment, you looked around, trying to get your bearings, and then your eyes landed on him. You offered him a small, grateful smile, and his heart skipped a beat.
“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, your voice still hoarse with exhaustion. “I really appreciate it.”
Rafe nodded, watching you with a mixture of concern and admiration. “No problem. You okay now?” His voice was gentle, but there was an undertone of worry that you couldn’t miss.
You gave a quiet sigh, nodding. “Yeah… I think I just needed some air.”
He stayed still for a second, waiting, as you unbuckled your seatbelt and started to gather your things. The quiet moment lingered before you stepped out of the car and made your way to the front door of your building. Rafe stayed in the car, just watching you, his gaze never leaving you. His chest felt tight again, but this time, it was different. It wasn’t fear of something going wrong—it was the simple concern of wanting you to be safe, wanting you to be okay.
As you reached the door, you fumbled through your bag, checking the contents. You muttered to yourself, growing more frantic as you checked again. A few seconds later, you pulled your head up in alarm.
“Shit…” you whispered under your breath.
Rafe’s gaze sharpened as he watched you struggle, a sense of urgency in your movements. He opened the car door slightly, ready to ask if something was wrong.
“Everything okay?” he called, his voice laced with concern.
You turned back, your eyes wide with panic. “I—I can’t find my keys.”
His brow furrowed. “You sure you didn’t leave them in the car?”
You shook your head, feeling your heart pound in your chest. “I’m sure I brought them with me. I always check for them before leaving... but I can’t find them. Oh god…” Your voice trailed off as the panic began to rise again, a wave of dread settling in your stomach.
Rafe’s gaze softened. He could see the distress building in you, and for a split second, he wished he could take that weight off your shoulders.
“Hey,” he called, getting out of the car now, taking a few steps toward you. “Maybe you dropped them inside, or—”
“No,” you interrupted, your voice shaking. “I’m sure I had them when we left the event… Oh my god…” You froze, your hands hovering over your bag again as realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “I dropped them,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Rafe, but he heard you clearly. “When I… when I freaked out. I must’ve dropped them at the event. Damn it.”
You turned around, scanning the ground as if your keys might miraculously appear, but you knew deep down they were long gone. You quickly pivoted and rushed back toward Rafe’s car, your anxiety spiking with each step. Rafe watched you for a moment before following closely behind, his own mind racing as he processed the situation.
“Shit,” you muttered again, coming up to his car and looking inside like you could find your keys by some miracle. Rafe sat there, waiting for you to catch your breath before he spoke. “I’m sorry… I know this is a mess. I just—everything’s falling apart tonight. I didn’t expect any of this, and now… now I’ve lost my damn keys. I don’t know what to do.”
Rafe could see the exhaustion on your face, the mental and emotional toll of the evening weighing heavily on you. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel more alone in this.
“It’s alright,” he said, trying to calm you, his voice soft but firm. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.” He thought for a second, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. “I can call a locksmith, or we can check inside the building for a spare key. Maybe someone can help.”
You were already shaking your head, your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “I… I don’t want to bother anyone. And I don’t want to stay out here all night.”
Rafe saw how visibly shaken you were, how overwhelmed you seemed by everything. The night had gone completely sideways for you, and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, stuck in your apartment, still frazzled.
“You could stay at my place tonight…”
chapter eight
#the contracted heart#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe fic#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#obx smut#rafe obx#rafe smut#rafe cameron prompt#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron smut#outer banks fanfiction#obx fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe imagine#x reader#obx x reader#drew starkey
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as we all know, jj is not a fan of cops. so, you can imagine how angry he’d be getting a call that you’re locked up.
it's sort of a game of telephone actually. you called kiara from the jail, pleading with her not to tell jj knowing how he'd react. but, with her parents grounding her from any more involvement in pogue business, she didn't really have a choice. so, she told pope, who immediately told jj.
luckily, your offense wasn't serious, you'd been having a bad day already and decided to go on an innocent bike ride. jj was kind enough to have slipped a joint into your backpack for an occasion like this, which you happily lit up to get your mind off of everything. your mistake was riding through the rich side of the island, some kook must've seen you and called the station to complain about who-knows-what, and the smell of weed sticking to your skin made it easier for shoupe to find you. you complied, letting him haul you in the back of his cruiser while he lectured you about drug possession and public intoxication. must be a slow day.
now you're sat in the lobby of the police station, hands bound together in metal cuffs, resting in your lap. you're barely high anymore, the light feeling in your head replaced by irritation. you hear jj before you see him, and the sound of his booming voice makes your heart sink.
"where d'ya even have her? huh, plumb?" you squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of his anger growing closer and closer.
"you need to relax, maybank." she hisses, rounding the corner before him and stopping at the sight of you. she crosses her arms, almost amused. "she's right here."
your blonde boyfriend stomps in after her, wide eyes searching the room before landing on you. he's disheveled, clearly having been in a rush to get here. you don't know what to do other than to stare back at him doe eyed. deputy plumb comes to your side and hoists you to stand with a hand on your arm, spinning you roughly so she can start to unlock the cuffs.
“alright—let’s make this quick.” shoupe’s voice draws everyone’s attention, a stack of papers in his hands that he offers to jj. “i’m doin’ her a favor, just a written warning.”
jj snatches the papers from him, superficially looking them over and then using them to point at the deputy. “you’re outta your mind, shoupe. i can’t believe—“
“i suggest—“ shoupe cuts him off, and jj’s jaw clenches. “—you kids get on home now. we’ve got some real work to do.”
deputy plumb lets you go, clipping the cuffs to her belt and nudging you toward jj. “and keep the dope on the cut.” you look back at her, keeping your mouth shut as you slink over to jj’s side.
“can count on kildare P.D., ain’t that right?” jj keeps his eyes on the officers, face red with anger as he adjusts his hat and starts walking toward the door. you stick close to him, feeling better attached to his side even if he’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “pickin’ on teenage girls — real tough, shoupe. pretty sure y’all got bigger fish to fry, maybe focus on that.”
on the way out of the station, he’s silent. he doesn’t look at you or say a word until you reach the twinkie, where john b is sitting patiently in the driver’s seat. you feel real bad now, realizing you brought everyone into this mess that you could have easily avoided. jj stops at the front of the van, and you follow suit, anxiously biting your lip.
“jayj, i really didn’t mean to cause a whole—“
“nobody’s upset, sugar. relax.” he takes a second to look you over, running his hands down your arms and scanning over your body. “didn’t rough you up in there, did they?”
you shake your head. “oh, no. i’m fine.”
“good.” he brushes your hair over your shoulder, letting his hand linger by your jaw to pull you into a kiss. “least y’got a little street cred now, huh?” his calloused thumb rubs across your cheek, and a warm smile spreads across his face. you’re relieved, in the end really grateful that your boyfriend came to save the day.
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#my inbox is open! ‧₊˚.#jj maybank#obx#jj maybank x reader#jj#jj maybank drabble#jj maybank headcanon#jj headcanon#jj x reader#jj maybank gif
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𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑠
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔: 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐇𝐞 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝
Pairing: drug dealer!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
Summary: (au) The next morning, you and Coriolanus wake up and decide to spend the day together. At the pool after breakfast, your ex catches you and Coriolanus kiss, which causes a scene. After he’s take you back to his room…
Warning: 18+ (eventually smut), fluff, kissing, pet names (baby girl), toxic relationship, obsession, fantasies about readers body, possession
Word count: 3.1k
A/N: hello! slowly getting stories done! i want to say that even though i took a break, the continued support has been amazing. thank you to everyone who has helped this little blog grow! especially to those who have liked or commented on almost every post…i appreciate the kind words and dedication. as someone who is a fellow fan girl, hearing people say how they look forward to my writing or saying that me dropping a new post makes their day, warms my heart ♥︎ so enjoy this chapter and in the meantime go read Bird in a Cage if you are looking for more Coryo fics!
Series Masterlist | Playlist
☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎
The next morning, Coriolanus wakes up with you resting on his chest. You’re asleep, your hair tickling his lips and nose. He can’t help it and kisses the top of your head, petting your hair. You stir slightly, nuzzling into his chest. You’re still sound asleep, and he watches your back rise and fall. Coriolanus continues to stroke your hair and smiles to himself. You’re sleeping soundly in his bed. Not only that, your body is completely on top of his own. He admires how at peace you look and not to mention how beautiful you are in the morning sunlight creeping through his blinds. He kisses your head again, then firmly presses his cheek against you, hugging you.
You eventually stir awake and find him with his hands tangled in your hair, his other hand stroking your back.
“Good morning, beautiful” he whispers
“Hey…good morning” you yawn “mmm you make a nice pillow” you giggle softly, scooting up on him more and kissing his cheek. He suddenly turns his face and your chin to kiss your mouth. You smile against his lips, kissing him back. You pull back for a moment, stroking his face.
“What time is it?” You ask
Coriolanus reaches for his phone on his side table. It reads 7:32 am. He tells you and you groan.
“So early. I told mom I was at a friend’s house so I can really be back at any time.”
“So, you can stay a bit?”
“Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to get breakfast maybe. I’m so hungry”
Coriolanus smiles, kissing you again.
“We can get breakfast”
You and him lay there for a while, at least another thirty minutes. Occasionally kissing each other, Coriolanus commenting on how beautiful you are, how happy he is you’re here with him. You eventually need to use the bathroom and you get up. Coriolanus is all too satisfied with himself. He reaches for his phone again and checks his notifications, placing his hand behind his head. As he scrolls through Instagram and sees people are still talking about his Yik Yak post. A small tinge of guilt hits him and he closes out of the app. He goes to check the original post and the likes have only gone up. He’s pretty sure the entire high school knows, and not just the recent graduated seniors. He closes out and clears his app history. You come back into his room and smile at him. He looks past his phone at you and smiles back.
“Would you want something to change into. I bet Tigris has something that would fit…”
“Yeah that would be nice”
“I’ll grab you something.”
He jumps out of bed and out of his room, dashing across the hall. He knocks on his cousin's door. Tigris answers and he opens her door. She’s currently sipping on a cup of tea and sketching in her bed.
“You’re up early.” She remarks
“Yeah, hey so I have umm someone over and I need some clothes for her.”
“You have a girl over? Who?”
Coriolanus utters your name and quietly, Tigris gasps.
“She slept over?”
“Yeah, are you gonna tell Gran?”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, getting up and going to her closet.
“And purposely upset her. I’m not your mother Coriolanus.” She smirks, tossing him a purple tank top and jean shorts.
“Thanks cus.”
“I wanna know more later though.”
He nods, then turns back to go to his room. You are sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling on your phone. He hands you the outfit and you go to change.
“Hey, do you have some deodorant I can borrow? Maybe a toothbrush and some toothpaste too? Sorry I wasn’t planning on even staying at Bella’s after.”
“Yeah. You can use my deodorant and toothpaste. I’ll see if we have an extra toothbrush. Gran tends to forget once she bought things she needs, so we always have extra shit just laying around”
You nod and head into his bathroom. He leaves his room and heads downstairs to their linens closet. Coriolanus’s house was not messy by any means, his grandmother is in fact a relatively structured lady and was keen on keeping a tidy house, however all the knickknacks, photos, and pieces of old memorabilia scattered around the house made it feel full. And his grandmother seemed to develop a knack for buying things she didn’t need or duplicates since her working memory was becoming worse.
He knows that he saw her buy some new toothbrushes for cleaning last week and figured he could use one of those. He finds them behind the fifth box of tissues and takes one. He heads up back to his room and knocks on his bathroom door. You step out for a second, thank him and smile.
Coriolanus decides to change clothes himself, stripping himself of his navy button up. He goes to his closet and picks out a black tee and pair of black shorts. You watch him as he changes, admiring his toned body. He strips out of his pants, changing into shorts. For a brief moment you can see his bulge in his boxers. You smirk to yourself as you turn back to the mirror and continue brushing your teeth. Coriolanus saw you gawk at him and he loves that your attention is on him like that. Your eyes are so telling, your look so recognizable. The same look Coriolanus himself has given you many times over the years. He zips up his pants and heads into his bathroom. You scoot over as he checks himself out. He grabs his own toothbrush and toothpaste and starts his morning routine. Brush his teeth, deodorant, wash his face.
“You actually use face wash. I didn’t think boys cared about that stuff.”
“I hate pimples. They always irritate my face.”
“Well I love a man that keeps up on his appearance” you smile.
Once you’re both ready, you and him head out of his house and off to Bill’s Pancakes, the local diner. It almost feels like a date once you both are seated in a booth, Coriolanus suddenly gets nervous and feels like he doesn’t know what to say to you. You look incredibly cute in that tank top though and he decides to let you know.
“Thank you!”
He then notices you’re still wearing the necklace from last night and smiles to himself.
“So do you have any plans today?” You ask
Coriolanus shakes his head, as he starts to look at the menu.
“I mean if you want we can still hang out after this. I kinda don’t want this time to end just yet.”
“Yeah we can hang out! What were you thinking?”
“The pool at the club allows me to bring a guest. Would you want to come?”
“Sure I’d be down”
“Ok we can stop back by your house so you can change and then mine so I can get my bikini?
“Sounds like a plan”
You and him continue to chat until a waiter comes to take your orders. All in all, breakfast is delicious and now that you asked him to come swim, all he can think about is you in a bikini. He’s always thought about how incredible your body is. He’s seen glimpses of it based on some of the clothes you wear and filled in the rest with his imagination. He has a small idea about how perky and perfect your breasts are, and could tell you had a nice ass. And the thought of you wet in a bikini is almost overwhelming. The entire time at breakfast, he tried to concentrate on his food and the conversation, but is now all too eager to get home.
Once he pays and you both leave, his excitement only gets stronger. Maybe you’ll even let him pick out what you wear. Invite him into your house. You watched him change, maybe you’ll return the favor. He nearly misses his turn into his neighborhood at the thought of your bare body. He parks, tells you he’ll be right back, and rushes into his house to grab a pair of black swim shorts. He quickly returns and starts the car back up. He drives to your neighborhood and as he arrives, Sejanus is shooting hoops outside. He watches as his best friend’s car pulls into your driveway. He waves and you both wave back at him. Sejanus looks upon with confusion. You tell Coriolanus you’ll be right back as you dash up to your front door. You don’t end up inviting him in, to his disappointment, but regardless he’s still just as excited to see you in a bikini. He looks out his rear view mirror and sees Sejanus still standing there dumbfounded. He turns off the car and gets out, walking over to his friend.
“Hey!” He smiles
“Were you going to tell me about her?”
“Of course, I just haven’t had an opportunity to text you. We went to get breakfast and now she invited me to the country club pool.” Coriolanus explains
“Oh!” Sejanus exclaims
Coriolanus gives him a proud nod and looks back to see if you’ve returned to the car. Just then your front door opens and you trod outside. Coriolanus watches you, bidding Sejanus a farewell, and jogging back over to his truck. You hop in with him and he smiles at you.
“I got us some towels and sunscreen!” you explain holding up your swim bag. He nods and starts the car. Before he can put it in drive, you delicately turn his chin, and kiss him. He kisses you back, but you pull away, leaving him wanting more.
“What was that for?” Coriolanus inquires
“Because, why not. You’re so handsome.”
He can’t help but smile at you, blush almost. At the same time, his chest swells with pride, loving that you think he’s so attractive.
“You really think so?”
“Mhmm.” You nod
“Yeah…” he starts stroking your cheek. “but you’re even more gorgeous.”
You give him a playful, girlish giggle and kiss him quickly again.
He starts the truck and pulls out of your driveway. He heads to the country club and when he pulls into the parking lot, he initially pulls into a spot in the back for guests.
“Oh, you can park in our spot.” You remark
“You have your own spot?”
“Well no, it’s just where we always park. Go to the members lot. I’ll show you where to go. “
He follows your instructions and pulls into a “members only” spot. He parks the car and the two of you walk around the back gate to the pool. It’s a nice area, with brick pavilions, a bar, chairs for lounging, and even an area for kids. It wasn’t too big, not like the public pool at the park. In the summer, as a boy, Coriolanus and Tigris’s grandparents would take them together before their Grandfather passed away. Except it was more crowded, more loud, and filled with mostly pee.
“The men’s bathroom is that way. I’m going to change.” You declare, pointing as you press a key fob up to the gate. Coriolanus nods and walks in the direction you pointed while you head off to the women’s restroom. He changes quickly and then awkwardly waits for you to come back out. He feels so out of place at the country club, even though he’s tagged along with Sejanus before. Finally, you come out and Coriolanus is taken aback. Your body is stunning in your blue bikini, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. It was just modest enough, but fit you perfectly. Your breasts sat perfectly on your chest and he can see how perky and round they are. Just like he knew they would be.𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 imagined He tries to contain himself, hoping not to develop a hard on through his swim shorts, but you’re so damn tempting. You walk to him, swaying your hips.
“Let’s find some chairs. Do you think you could help me with my sunscreen?”
“Of course.”
You and him find some empty chairs and sit down. You get the towels and sunscreen from your bag, handing him one. You start to apply the sunscreen to your body, working it into your arms and chest. He’s mesmerized by you, watching closely as you apply the white cream on your chest and cleavage. You notice him and smirk. Then you readjust and turn around, handing him the bottle. He squeezes the sunscreen into his hand and you lift up your hair. He slowly applies it to your back, feeling his cock hardened as he does. He rubs your shoulders, back and down to your lower waist. He can’t help but notice how sensual this simple act has become. His hands are so delicate as they move across your skin. You’re so smooth, so soft, and he could feel you all day like this. He applies some extra sunscreen, just so he can continue to feel you. You sigh and hum into the feeling of his hands. You giggle at the coldness and his touch, then turn around when he’s done.
“My turn.” you declare
“I don’t really use that stuff.”
“Well you are with me. Stay still.” You insist, squirting the cream into your hand. You rub it on his chest and shoulders, admiring his toned build, excited that you get to see him shirtless again. You focus on your own touch, making sure he feels good as you lather him up. You’re so soft and gentle and he loves how your finger rubs into him.
“If you wanted an excuse to touch my chest you could have asked me” he smirks playfully
“Noted, now let that sit in for a bit.”
After a few moments, you both get into the pool, swimming around and chatting. He loves how gracefully you flow through the water, and still can’t get over how fucking sexy you look in your bikini. You’re caught up in him as well. His piercing blue eyes, his charming smile. At one point you swim over to him and give him a quick kiss.
“What was that for?” He asks
“Because I can” you smile kissing him again
Little did you and him know that Devon was entering the pool area, fresh out of a round of golf. He spots you, then sees Coriolanus. You kiss Coriolanus again, and that gets him fuming.
“Hey!” He storms over to you
You whip your head around and see him. You gasp and move behind Coriolanus.
“Hey, let's go back to your place.” You whisper
Coriolanus looks up and frowns at Devon as he stalks over him.
“What the hell are you doing kissing my girl, Snow?” He pouts, starting to draw attention to himself and you.
“She’s not your girl. You don’t own her.”
“Hey!” He shouts at you ignoring Coriolanus’s remark. “You can at least talk to me! C’mon you can’t just avoid me.”
“Stop talking to her.” Coriolanus speaks up, getting out of the pool, while you scurry off to gather your belongings.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” He shoves Coriolanus. “Get out of my face, and get your tongue out of my girl's mouth!”
“She’s NOT your girl.” Coriolanus shoves back
“You really wanna do this, Snow, embarrass yourself and your family name more.”
That pisses him off. Before he can take action, going to throw a punch, your hand grabs his wrist and pulls him towards the exit.
“I said I don’t want anything to do with you anymore Devon. Leave us alone.” You tell him off “C’mon”
You rush off with Coriolanus, the sound of Devon’s anger trailing behind with the last thing you hear him say being “This isn’t over. We still need to talk. You can’t ignore me forever.”
“I’m sorry…” you apologize as you get into his truck.
“For what?”
“For that becoming a scene. So embarrassing.”
“But you didn’t do anything.” Coriolanus cups your face, consoling you.
“I just feel like this is my fault.”
“C’mon, let’s go back to my house and take your mind off things.”
You nod, holding back your tears. Coriolanus gets to his house as fast as possible, ushering you inside and up to his room. He closes his room and you immediately burst out into tears.
“Hey, hey, please don’t cry baby.”
You sniffle and a stream of tears runs down your face.
“I’m sorry it’s just…just…everything has been so crazy since the breakup.”
“I know I know. But it’s not your fault.”
You and him both have a seat on his bed, leaning against his chest with your hands buried on your face. He wraps an arm around you and hugs you.
“Sweet girl, please don’t cry.”
“It’s hard not to. I’m sorry I’m such a mess”
“You’re not a mess” he kisses your forehead, pulling you closer.
You sniffle against him as he pets your hair. A whirlwind of emotions surges over you and you can’t help but let you an even louder sob. He rocks you, trying his very best to console you. You bawl into him and he hugs you tight, whispering to you softly.
“It’s ok. I won’t ever let him get to you ok. Not to while you’re with me baby”
“You mean that?” You utter
He nods and you lean up to kiss him. He moans unexpectedly, but once you don’t pull back, he kisses you back fully. He can tell you’re still swimming in emotions, your kiss so fierce and passionate. You shift and move your body onto the bed more. He scoots back to accommodate you and then you do something he doesn’t expect. You straddle him, cupping his face as your lips refuse to leave his. He moans in surprise, raking his fingers through your hair. He pulls you closer and moans into your mouth. You kiss him fiercely, and your lips move at a desperate pace. He can barely keep up and pulls back. He looks at you, cupping your face and meeting your gaze.
“What's up, baby girl?”
You blush and immediately kiss him again.
“I need you” you mumble into his mouth.
He’s completely overwhelmed and barely utters out a “are you sure?” as you feverishly nod your head. Then, he is pleasantly surprised when you push him onto the bed.
This is what he’s dreamed of. You, totally in need of him, his lips, his body, his arms wrapping you close to his chest, and his body tangled with your own. You can’t help but to start to slowly grind on his hips. He grins against your mouth, eager for more of you.
“Mmm baby girl. Tell me this is real?”
“It’s real.” You moan
꧁🝮❤︎︎🝮꧂
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus smut#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth#tom blyth characters#fan fiction#smut#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#fan fic smut#drug dealer! coriolanus snow#drug dealer coriolanus#coriolanus snow x female reader#coriolanus snow smut#x reader smut#tom blyth smut#coriolanus fanfiction#smut fanfiction#fan fic#hunger games smut#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas#coryo x reader#x reader#x female reader#coryo snow#drug dealer#hunger games au#au fanfiction
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More Stoner! Rin Itoshi
✧ Stoner! Rin Itoshi x Fem! Reader ✧
A/N: I can't stop thinking abt Stoner! Rin. And I’m also starting to think abt other bllck boys as stoners 🤤
Here’s a “part 1”? (You don’t need to read it but it’s what I wrote before this?.. lol)
CW: established relationship, drug usage (marijuana), grinding (clothed), making out, pussy playing (not explicitly stated that Rin’s fingering reader), clingy/possessive Rin <3. (Aged up Rin ofc)
Word count: 272
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Stoner! Rin who always has you sit on his lap when y’all get high, he thinks it’s easier if you guys are close so he doesn’t have to move much when passing you the joint, pipe, etc. (Totally not because he wants to feel you up, his hard clothed cock pressing up against your clothed ass.)
Stoner! Rin loves to grab ahold of your jaw and pull you into a deep tongue kiss just to blow some smoke inside your mouth. Groaning into the kiss when he feels you grind down on his cock which is already leaking precum out the pretty tip onto his boxers.
Stoner! Rin that talks and touches you more when he’s high. When his eyes get red and droopy, his hands seem to wander you wayyy more. Always on your waist, thighs, or toying with your pretty pussy.
Stoner! Rin who taps your lips, signaling you to plop out your wet tongue so he can use it to dampen the paper he’s using to roll his, and your joint.
Stoner! Rin loves your attention all the time, but especially when he’s high. When he’s high he doesn’t let you look away for a second, and his hands never leave you either.
Stoner! Rin that doesn’t let you leave him at a party. He makes sure you sit your pretty self down right on his lap at any and every party you go to. He’ll even show you off a bit. Making out with you in front of anyone who looks at you a little too long. Making sure whoever was staring at you knows that you’re his. (And that he’s yours!)
#v4mpi33#rin itoshi x reader#blue lock smut#blue lock x you#blue lock#blue lock headcanons#blue lock x reader#blue lock x female reader#rin itoshi#rin itoshi smut
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Forgive Me (Joel Miller x f!reader/ofc)
MASTERLIST - follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/ofc (unnamed, no physical description)
Words: 3.5k
Rating: E 18+
Warnings: masturbation, the male gaze, dub con (looking at nudes without consent), references to p in v sex and blow jobs, references to drugs and alcohol, violence, general Joel Miller angst and self-loathing [let me know if I missed anything]
Summary: When Joel finds himself in possession of some sexy photos, temptation makes him question himself as he's fascinated by a woman he's never met.
A/N: She's back! I think it's been a year since I've posted any Pedro fic. I've been kind of uninspired but mainly focused on publishing my first novel. But Joel's got me all kinds of distracted from revising my manuscript. Please enjoy some angst.
...
It rained. A gray sky blanketed the QZ making everything look even more bleak. As if it needed help. Joel and his customer had taken cover under some scaffolding. Luckily, the weather meant that there weren’t a whole lot of people around, no suspicious glances in their direction.
Joel opened his wet bag to reveal a pair of work boots to the buyer. Vince’s eyes lit up.
“Hell yeah,” he said.
Joel flipped the backpack closed again. These had been hard to come by and he’d gotten pretty good at this beat. Nobody got their hands on any goods without paying first.
“Alright. I got you, man,” Vince said. This wasn’t his first rodeo either. He’d been doing business with Joel since the very beginning. He bought all kinds of shit— a radio, chocolate, tiny bottles of shampoo. Joel wasn’t sure if Vince resold the stuff but it was better not to know about that kind of thing.
Vince put his cards into Joel’s hand and Joel counted.
“What the hell is this?” Joel asked.
Tucked into the stack of ration cards were a couple of photographs. A quick glance showed him they were all the same woman, naked or nearly naked. Vince had tried to pawn this stuff off on him before. In fact once he tried to pay with porn and Joel had to tell him he only accepted ration cards.
“Just a little something extra,” Vince said with a wink. He happily took the boots and gave them a once over. “You got my size and everything.”
“I’m not interested,” Joel said and tried to hand the pictures back.
“Come on,” Vince chuckled. “A stiff prick for a stiff prick.” He gave Joel a friendly slap on the shoulder which only deepened his scowl.
“See you around.” Vince walked away and Joel had no choice but to tuck the bundle into his jacket.
When he got home, Joel hid the ration cards away as he always did. He put the photographs into the hole in the floor as well. He hadn’t given them another look since they went into his pocket. Joel might’ve just gotten rid of them but nothing went in the trash without careful consideration. Everything in the QZ had value and these pictures were obviously worth something to somebody. It didn’t feel right to sell them but in a pinch, it would be good to have something that could grease some wheels.
He put the floorboards back and promptly forgot about them.
...
Joel’s hand reached into the hole in the floor. It was the end of a long and awful week. The Fireflies were causing trouble which meant the FEDRA rats were out in force. Joel hadn’t done any lucrative business in days. The honest work he could get was as degrading as ever. He smelled like trash and shit. He needed a fucking drink, couldn’t wait to feel it burn in the back of his throat. There was no chance his muscles would uncoil without a couple of shots. As he fished his bottle out of its hiding place, his fingers caught on something else. The slick side of a photograph stuck to his sweaty palm as he drew his hand out from under the floor. It’d been a while since he’d put the nudes down there and he hadn’t thought about them at all since.
Joel looked at it. Curiosity, plain and simple. It was a Polaroid, taken on long-expired film that gave everything a tinge of sepia. The woman in the photograph looked out at him, a coy smile on her lips. It wasn’t her face that caught his attention. She sat on the edge of a bed, tits bare. One of her thumbs was hitched in the elastic of her panties.
He pulled the other two out, just to see the variety, and took them over to his bed along with his bottle. The photos got more explicit. In the first she was laying back, completely exposed and touching herself. The other one had her on all fours, looking over her shoulder at the camera, at Joel.
At first Joel chuckled to himself. He never considered himself to be the type to go for such exaggerated, porny stuff. And he hardly lost control of himself. There wasn’t room for desire in his life. Pleasure wasn’t a part of his vocabulary anymore. From the sludge that passed for his morning coffee to the hard mattress he lay on at night, there was nothing enjoyable to be found around him.
Still, he felt himself twitching in his jeans. She had a nice body, the kind he used to like when he thought about things like that. She looked soft and he bet she smelled good.
Joel began to wonder about her, if she’d taken the pictures for her lover. Or maybe for an ex who’d traded them to spite her. Either way, they weren’t for him. She might’ve posed for a creep like Vince to get a few ration cards.
He didn’t like that. He didn’t like knowing that he was the kind of man who got stiff gawking at her. Joel did all kinds of things he wasn’t proud of but he had a good reason for them. Getting off on some woman’s private pictures just seemed wrong.
She wasn’t his daughter but she was somebody’s and that made Joel’s gut twist.
He tossed the photo aside and laid back, draping his forearm across his eyes. For a while he laid there trying to will his hard on away. His muscles were even more tense than before. He ground his teeth and screwed his eyes shut but the image of the woman had burned itself in. Soon he was absentmindedly touching himself through his jeans, dragging his fingertips over the lump in the denim. He craved that release. Each slow stroke made him pulse with want.
He growled. What fucking difference did it make? Joel was acting all high and mighty like it meant something. He wasn’t any better than the man who’d given him these pictures. He had his own vices and he always felt about an inch away from violence. This poor girl had no idea he was looking at her body, that seeing her flesh was getting him hard. If that was the worst thing that ever happened to her, he told himself, she was lucky.
Human decency be damned. Joel gave in to that selfish part of him, the animal inside that cared only about his own survival, his own desire. This world had taken everything from him and he was going to steal something from her. He knew what that made him but he didn’t care.
Joel unzipped his fly, his cock weeping furiously and straining against his boxers. He took up the last photo, the one that was doubled over ass-out, and spit into his other fist. He pulled at himself as he glared at the picture. It felt good. Slick and tight.
He could see a trail of wetness at her core reflecting the camera’s flash and he imagined how fantastic it would feel to plunge into her, to hold onto her hips and groan and buck against her. He kept tugging on his cock, squeezing at the head and dreaming up the noises she’d make, the sounds of their bodies connecting. He sped up his fist. He wanted her to cry out his name. He wanted her to take him away from all of this shit, just for a minute, just sixty fucking seconds when he could forget.
A spasm ran up from his groin, an electric shock that travelled up his spine, and he moaned and swore through gritted teeth as he came. His heart pounded in his chest as he lay back, sticky and sweating. The photograph was still in his grip as his breath evened out.
That wasn’t the last time he used her picture. Whenever he was amped up or way down, he’d retrieve the photos and get to work on himself.
There was one photograph he favored over the others, the one where she was on her back. He liked to think about standing over her, taking in the sight of her. His eyes would move over every velvet inch of her before he went any further.
She could be whatever he needed. Sometimes he would imagine her seducing him, straddling his hips and lowering herself onto his cock with a luxurious sigh. Others, he liked her to be sweet and innocent, just for him. When he was having a shitty day, he’d picture himself fucking brutally into her mouth until tears ran down her cheeks. It was messed up and he knew it but the guilt wore off quickly. He had next to nothing in this world, at least he could have this release.
...
Joel had been waiting longer than he wanted. He’d circled the block three times already and he was getting impatient. He was meeting a buyer who was late and if they didn’t show soon, they’d be out of luck. Joel didn’t like to linger.
He rounded the corner on the square and did his best to blend in. Another round of executions were underway. Above the crowd, four people were lined up on the catwalk, ropes around their necks. Joel chose to ignore it. He scanned the faces around him until he saw someone familiar. It wasn’t his contact. He wasn’t sure where he’d seen her before. That happened often— he’d spot someone he thought he knew from his past life. Most of the time, it was just a trick of the eye, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew the woman on the other side of the square.
She had her arm around another woman. The other one was more than middle aged and crying, tears running over the wrinkles on her cheeks. The woman, the one that Joel recognized, pulled her friend in close and glanced around. She wasn’t crying but she had a lost expression on her face. That’s when he realized.
Joel was looking at the woman from the photographs. There was no doubt in his mind that it was her. He’d spent over a year staring at that face. In person, she was just as pretty but her appearance was hidden under the same dirt and weariness everyone in the QZ wore.
Joel’s chest went tight and he couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t breathe. His body was crushed by shame and disgust. He had violated her and she didn’t even know it.
The FEDRA officer read out the charges and she squeezed her friend in close so she wouldn’t have to watch the bodies drop. Obviously there was someone up there that they knew. Joel watched her face go stony as the platform fell out. She barely winced, like she was just there to bare witness, but he could guess how she felt. You lost enough people, what was one more friend dying right in front of your eyes?
The crowd broke up and she lead her companion away, a tender hand on the older woman’s shoulder. Joel had no choice but to move and his feet decided to head in the same direction as the woman. He kept his distance because he wasn't following her. At least he told himself that he that. It just wasn’t safe for him to hang around with FEDRA crawling all over. Dusk was falling so she was probably headed home before curfew fell.
Joel watched her wind down the streets, all the while sick to his stomach. He truly was a creep. He didn’t know why he was going after her. The last thing he wanted was to spook her and it wasn’t like he planned on introducing himself. There was a funny idea in his mind that she might turn around and see him and know, just by looking at his face, what he’d done. Maybe she’d scream at him and slap him in the face. Part of him wanted that. He deserved it.
She was just helping her friend up the stairs to one of the brownstones when Joel connected with something. He’d been so wrapped up in watching the woman, he wasn’t looking at where he was going. It startled him out of his thoughts to be inches away from a FEDRA officer. Usually Joel kept a wide berth but he’d walked right into the back of his bulletproof vest. The officer turned and put his hands on his hips, narrowed his eyes.
Joel gave an apologetic nod.
“Move along,” the FEDRA officer commanded.
Joel did, unsure he deserved to slip out of a close call like that.
When he got home, he felt like shit. He pried up the floorboards and dug out the pictures. The face that looked out at him was the same one he’d seen in the square. He snapped his eyes shut and swore under his breath.
He set the photos down at the kitchen table, then sat on the couch with his bottle. Joel sat there for a long time, watching the pictures like they might spring up and force themselves back into his hand. That night, he hardly slept.
...
Joel knew better than to do business with someone as skittish as Max. This kid had already chewed his fingernails down to the quick and the way his eyes darted around would make anyone suspicious. But he wanted pills so damn bad, he’d give up more ration cards than they were worth. Joel insisted they meet off the street, in an alley buffeted by a fence and brick walls.
“You’re a lifesaver for this,” Max said. He couldn’t stop fidgeting and it made even Joel nervous.
“Mhm,” he grumbled.
Max knew the drill. He was ready with the cards without being asked.
Joel was about to reach for them when the worst thing that could happen did.
“What’s going on here?” a gruff voice called down the alley. Fuck. A FEDRA officer in full uniform was marching their way, one hand on his weapon.
Leave it to Max to split. He made a break for it and blew past the officer leaving Joel to face questioning alone. If he’d been cool, Joel could’ve talked their way out of it but now there was no hope of leaving without trouble.
The officer radioed for someone else to go after Max, gave his position and direction, but he kept his eyes on Joel. He was shorter than Joel and under his helmet, he looked young. Probably born just a few years before the outbreak with no options but joining up. The patch on his chest identified him as DIXON.
“Hands on your head,” Dixon instructed when he was finished.
Joel obeyed, a deep frown pulling at his lips. Dixon scanned him and then reached for his radio again.
“I’ve got some ration cards in my pocket. They’re all yours,” Joel offered before he could make a report.
“You trying to bribe me?” the officer asked.
Joel shook his head. “Everybody’s in need these days. Just trying to help out.”
Dixon scoffed. “Trying to help yourself out of a tough spot.”
Joel clenched his jaw. This motherfucker was obviously one of those types that got off on throwing their weight around. Half of the FEDRA soldiers he’d encountered were happy to bend the rules for the right price. The other half only felt big when they reminded others how small they’d become.
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Dixon said, sliding his weapon onto his back so his hands were free. The chainlink fence rattled as he pressed Joel against it. Joel kept his eyes forward as hands searched his hips and down his legs. Dixon went into his pocket and Joel heard the crinkle of a plastic bag. “Pills. No wonder.”
He continued his search as Joel cursed himself. Losing that merchandise meant a nice stack of ration cards was about to evaporate into thin air. Not to mention the fact he was now in deep shit with FEDRA.
“Oh, fuck,” Joel heard. The delight in the officer’s voice made him turn his head. Joel’s stomach fell into his feet when he saw what had been found. Dixon held a Polaroid in his hand.
Joel had been toting the pictures around for two weeks, hoping chance might cause him to bump into the woman again. Sometimes he wandered past the building she went into before curfew, hoping to catch her there again. He could have just destroyed them, lit the corner and let them go up in flames, but he wanted to give them back to her so she knew that they weren’t floating around out there. That scumbags like him weren’t jacking it to her picture. That pigs like Dixon weren’t salivating over them like he was right now.
“This your girl?” he asked. He raised the visor on his helmet to get a better look. “Damn.”
Joel pressed his lips into a line, shame washing over him again. He wondered if he’d had the same dopey grin on his face when he’d first gazed over her body.
“That’s a nice piece of pussy.”
Joel seethed and squeezed his hand into a fist in hopes that he could ball up all the swiftly building ire right there.
“Y’know,” Dixon began, finally glancing back up to Joel, “if I got a taste of that, I might be inclined to forget about all this. If she’s any good, maybe I’d even let you keep your pills.”
His fist flew before he even knew it. Joel pounced on him, pinning Dixon against the brick and punching him right in the nose. Dixon fought back, clawing and grunting, scratching at Joel’s face. Joel didn’t care. In fact, he welcomed the pain. He wasn’t defending her, the woman he didn’t know. He wasn’t a hero. Joel pummeled the man the way he’d wanted to beat himself. Pervert. Scum. Monster. Blood gushed from Dixon’s nose and teeth were battered loose and it wasn’t long before he stopped defending himself. Joel finally realized he’d knocked him out. He was holding the officer up with his own bodyweight and when he let go, Dixon crumpled.
Joel stood over him, shoulders heaving with his jagged breaths. Dixon gurgled, a mess of swollen crimson. Joel stooped down and picked up the picture with a bloody hand. He turned down the alley and ran like the cockroach he was.
...
Joel leaned in the shadow of a doorway, his eyes fixed across the street. He’d been laying low, staying as far off of FEDRA’s radar as he could, but he’d been restless. A week had passed since he’d beaten the piss out of one of their officers. His knuckles were still red and raw.
The sun was setting. He’d been out there for nearly four hours now and he’d need to get going soon if he was going to be back before curfew. There as no way he’d risk being out after dark when things were so hot.
He perked up when a figure rounded the corner. They were rushing, clearly fighting the same clock. It was her. Joel could tell from the other end of the block. He’d been resolved to get her pictures back to her but suddenly he felt like turning tail and going home. The urge only confirmed his worst opinions about himself.
Joel strode across the street as she approached. He placed himself at the foot of the stairs he knew she was headed towards.
The woman looked at him with nervous eyes. It stung but he couldn’t blame her. Joel was broad and his face always fixed in a scowl. She should be scared. He’d been no friend to her.
“Do you want something?” she asked, staying a cautious distance away. Her voice wasn’t what he’d imagined.
Joel pulled the photos out and she took a step back. He moved towards her, holding them out so she could see that he didn’t have anything dangerous. His fist was still swollen and a smear of Dixon’s blood had stained the white frame of the Polaroid.
The woman’s eyes bounced back and forth between his hand and his face. Finally, seeing that he wasn’t going anywhere until she took what he offered, she carefully plucked the pictures up.
Her eyes went wide and then narrow. She glowered at him. “Where did you get these?” she demanded.
Joel’s mouth was dry. The accusation in her stare cut him deeper than he’d expected. The scabs on his knuckles burned like he’d scraped them against sandpaper. He looked at her for a lengthy moment and then decided that he’d done enough.
Joel left her there after a grunt.
He walked swiftly, wanting to put as much distance between them as he could. He didn’t feel any better. It felt like failure. He’d already forgotten what she looked like, serpentine and sensuous, replaced by her hurt and admonition.
Joel had planned on apologizing, but the words hadn’t come.
...
My love language is words of affirmation so I'd love any comments or rbs. Thanks for reading, you beautiful person.
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East Coast Baby II (JJ Maybank x reader)
WARNINGS // NON-CON, DUB-CON, violence, possessive behavior, stalking, mentions of alcohol and drug use, jealousy, manipulation, toxicity, gaslighting, non-canon ages, pogue!reader, she/her reader, mentions of familial trauma, one bed trope, JJ watching reader as she sleeps, light somno at the end
MINORS DNI --> READ RESPONSIBLY
Synopsis // Running from a trauma-addled past, you arrive in OBX to find some peace. Shortly after, a series of strange events ensue, drawing your circle smaller and smaller, eventually driving you into the arms of one JJ Maybank. What you hadn't realized, however, is how difficult it would be to escape the one person you never thought you'd have to run from.
divider by @firefly-graphics
Word count: 2k
~
You slowly blinked your heavy lids until your vision cleared enough to make out the dark wood of a ceiling.
"Hey, hey, she's awake guys!" Kie called over to the boys and suddenly your line of sight was obstructed by four looming heads.
"Ugh, fucking Rafe," you groaned, reaching for the back of your head.
"Fucking Rafe is right. He totally could've given you a concussion. I mean, I wanted to take you to a hospital, but dumbasses one and two here insisted on bringing you here," Pope stood with his hands on his hips.
You sat up quickly and JJ's hands shot up to steady you.
"Woah, woah. Easy, okay? You took kind of a hard hit." JJ looked into your eyes with genuine concern before turning a pointed glare in Pope's direction.
"You want her going to the hospital and when they ask how she got the injury- to tell them she was out at a kegger with about a hundred other people and then tried to get in the middle of a fight until you, Mr. Smartass, decided to pop off a stolen gun? That's what you want her to say, Pope?"
"Yeah, dude, it's not like we were checking IDs, and I'm pretty sure there were like twenty different drugs going around the beach tonight." John B. told Pope, his arms crossed across his chest.
“Stolen gun?” You murmured drowsily.
“It’s a long story,” JJ said apologetically before turning back to Pope.
"Okay well, all I'm saying is this could be more serious than we think! Structural damage and all that bro! In this one show I saw on Forensic Files, this body showed up to the morgue completely fine, but they ran the autopsy and found out the dude hemorrhaged in the brain from a minor hit!" Pope threw his hands up in the air.
"Okay, you did not see that," Kie argued, rolling her eyes.
"Okay, enough! Christ. Y/n will be fine as soon as all of you get out and let her relax," JJ shouted over the bickering pair.
In a huff, Kie, Pope, and John B. headed out onto the screened-in porch, leaving you and JJ alone.
"Where am I right now?" You asked, looking around at the messy wooded cabin.
"John B's. Thought it best if we take you here to rest," JJ said, kneeling down in front of you. "Y/n, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t think you’d get in the middle of it."
“Well, I did,” you fix JJ with a stoney look. “You do know that Rafe was just trying to get under your skin, right?”
“Yeah, I figured. But still, I wasn’t gonna let him touch you,” JJ said, completely serious.
“Why? Why do you care? You just met me.”
“Do I really have to answer that?” JJ furrowed his blond brows. “Because I like you, y/n. Is that not obvious?”
You blinked your eyes rapidly. “I- I like you too JJ, but like I said, we just met. I hardly know anything about you and vice versa.” You looked down at your lap, twisting your rings around your fingers.
“Okay, well tell me something about you,” JJ smiled, bracing a closed fist just a few inches from your knee on the couch.
You hesitated. You weren’t used to people asking about you, and you weren’t even sure what to say. You weren’t sure if you wanted to say anything at all.
JJ was cute and seemed sweet. His friends were nice and he did get into a fistfight to protect your honor or whatever, which was kind of sweet in a marginally deranged way- but opening up to new people didn’t come easily to you. Sometimes you thought it was better to stay closed off to avoid the hurt.
You shook your head and averted your gaze from JJ’s disappointed face.
“Okay, well I’ll tell you something about me,” he said. He rocked back on his heels, planting his butt on the floor at your feet, his elbows resting on his raised knees.
“Ahh- let’s see. Alright, my favorite movie is C.H.U.D., the only book I’ve ever read and liked was The Outsiders, and I’m one hell of a surfer.” JJ laughed, counting off on his ringed fingers. “My favorite color is green, I like Zach Bryan’s music, and honestly, I’m not as calm and collected as I’d like everyone to believe.”
You looked up at JJ’s last admission, meeting his gaze.
“Yeah, uh- so my mom split a long time ago. Or it feels that way anyway. My dad sucks, so there’s that. Sometimes I think he likes the bottle better than he does me. Actually, I don’t really think he likes me at all.”
“JJ, I-” You were at a loss for what to say. What could you say? Didn’t you know better than anyone that there was nothing you could say? Nothing could fix, or even alleviate, that type of pain.
You gave up on words, instead reaching for JJ’s hand, rubbing your thumb over his bruising knuckles. JJ’s eyes softened at your gentleness. You nodded your head slowly, encouraging him to go on if he wanted.
“At least he isn’t around much, so I get to do what I want, which is better than Kie or Pope’s got it,” he chuckled dryly.
“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to sacrifice a father for freedom. I’m sorry that that happened to you, JJ. It’s not right, and you don’t deserve it.”
You gazed into his blue eyes sadly. Though he wouldn’t let it on, you could see the suffering lingering in the depths of his eyes. It was the same suffering you held in your own.
JJ held your hand tightly as if it were a life-raft he could pull himself onto to keep himself from drowning in the sea of pain.
You rubbed harshly at your misting eyes and chuckled. You told him your favorite movie, show, and book, that you liked to paint, what your favorite color was, and what kind of music you listened to. You told him about your aunt Laura, and how you hardly knew her, and yet she was the closest familial bond you had. JJ listened intently the whole time.
“And as for the other stuff- the darker stuff... I want to tell you, JJ, I do. But I just have a really hard time opening up like that, you know?” You told him.
He nodded his head slowly and gave his characteristic smirk. “That’s alright. I’ve got time.”
After the two of you sat up talking on John B.’s couch for the rest of the night, JJ assured you that it would be okay if you crashed there.
“Really, I do it all the time y/n,” JJ laughed. “I’ll stay here with you.”
You sent Laura a text to let her know your plans and allowed JJ to take you to the spare room.
"I've got some extra clothes here if you wanna change," JJ pointed to the large wooden dresser.
You looked down at what you were wearing. It was still a bit damp and sandy from the beach, so you nodded your head in agreement.
JJ crossed the room and pulled out a cotton t-shirt from the drawer, placing it in your hands.
He stood there for a moment more with his hands in his pockets.
"Uh, JJ? Could you, you know...?" Motioning for him to give you some privacy.
"OH! Yeah, yeah, let me just-" JJ scurried to the door, pulling it closed with a quiet click behind him.
You pulled off your sandy top and bottoms, dropping them to the floor at your feet. Picking up JJ's shirt, you lifted it to your face.
The cotton was soft and worn and smelled like clean linens, surf wax, and the faint scent of sunscreen. The scent of JJ.
You slipped it over your body and called out to him.
He entered the room as you perched on the edge of the single bed.
"I can take the couch if you-" he started.
"No, no I don't want to take your bed from you! We can share it, it's plenty big enough for both of us," you smiled at him.
Secretly, you hoped he wouldn't refuse and you were pleased when he didn't.
~
You had fallen asleep hours ago as JJ sat up watching you peacefully doze next to him.
Despite his eyes burning painfully from lack of sleep, he couldn't bring himself to look away from you.
Here you were, so beautiful, so gentle, so trusting, and so thinly clothed.
JJ thought back to your conversation earlier on the couch. How kind you had been, even though you only met him yesterday. How you held his hand and comforted him, even though you had no obligation to. And now, how you laid here in his bed, in his clothes, mere inches from him.
Then, images of Rafe clouded his vision. Rafe's hand on your knee across the beach.
JJ hadn't meant to drift so far from you, but one of his friends called him and Pope over, and it was only a few yards. He figured you'd be okay for a few moments until he could return to your side.
But like he always seemed to do, Rafe appeared out of thin air, sticking his hands on things that didn't belong to him.
JJ shook his head. He had to remind himself you didn't belong to him either. At least not yet.
The [admittedly] very small rational part of him knew Rafe was just goading him on, but the rage was blinding and unexpected.
Who does Rafe think he is? He thinks he owns everything from Figure 8 to The Cut. And you. You're so pretty and defenseless. I need to protect you. I need Rafe to know you're mine.
JJ had crossed the few yards in a matter of seconds, his hands clamping down on Rafe's steam-pressed collared shirt. It was like he weighed nothing as JJ dragged him to the water, his inherited rage blooming in his chest. He stomped to the water's edge until it soaked through his boots, and then he just let himself go.
He threw punch after punch in Rafe's smug face. With each time his fist made contact, he was further gratified. That was until he saw you.
JJ hadn't even realized you'd followed him, but there you were, laying on your back in the sand, a light bruise already forming on your jaw. Rafe had hit you.
JJ wailed on him as hard as he could, pounding his fists into Rafe's chest as he spit blood back at him. It took Pope, John B., Topper, and Kelce to pull him off.
JJ found his anger returning to him and he braced a hand against his chest, pacing his breathing.
She's alright. She's alright. She's here, JJ reminded himself.
Sometimes his rage frightened him. It looked too much like his dad's. But he was better than him. What he did, he did for love. His dad just did it for fun, or whatever. That made him better, right?
JJ looked over at your sleeping form. Your back was turned to him and he watched as your side rose and fell with your breathing. He gazed over the curve of your ass and felt himself grow hard at the mere sight.
He couldn't have you tonight, he knew that. Still, he allowed himself to scoot slowly down the bed and closer to you.
When you hadn't moved, he pressed his body flush against yours, his face buried in your strawberry-scented hair, his hardening length fitted snugly against your ass.
He let out a soft groan at the contact. This would have to be enough for him for now.
The last thing he thought before he finally succumbed to sleep was
she will be mine.
~series masterlist~
#dark!jj maybank#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#dark!jj maybank x reader#obx#jj obx#jj outer banks#outer banks#obx fanfiction#jj maybank fanfiction#outer banks fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe cameron
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“I enjoy passing on wisdom - it's a big part of my life. Everybody has different character traits and it's how you use them that counts. I used to be a busybody but now I help people by listening to them and helping them work things out and it's a virtue.” - Peter Tork, Lancashire Telegraph, May 23, 2008
A letter of advice in reply to a fan from circa 1969 in an older post, here.
Peter Sez #5 -- November 23, 2011 Lorraine G.: I would like to ask Peter what the most important, significant event of his life is. hi, Lorraine - I'm sure that without the ego collapse it took to free me from the clutches of active alcoholism, I would not be alive today. it was, sadly, too long a process, but that it came at all will be my greatest event no matter what else happens to me. Thanks for asking, xo peter
“If you pursue your dream for what it gives you and let it take you where it will, you will have a pretty cool life almost no matter what. I'm really sure about this.”
“In the meantime, take exquisite care of yourself. Remember you’re no good for anybody if you’re not good to yourself.”
“BTW, there will be no squashing sides of oneself on my watch, no suppressing the perfectionist. Rather celebrate another side of yourself, the lovable imperfect side, and let the perfectionist side be. That side has her virtues, too, and can be a good friend sometimes.”
“Do something you believe to be valuable and you'll become valuable to yourself and the world.”
“When I got my initial diagnosis, I admit I had a good cry for a bit. Crying wasn't part of my plan, exactly, but neither was it a black mark in my book, as far as I'm concerned. The gift was that immediately afterwards I was able to ask what the next thing was to do, and went about doing that without a lot of ‘why me?’ or other such attitudes I regard as diversionary. I highly recommend keeping the question ‘What's the next right thing?’ at the forefront of the mind as an antidote to self-pity and other distractions. It works for me.”
“Peter is incredibly patient. I have watched him sit and listen to people's problems -- at times people he barely knew -- for far longer than most of us would and in the end give them good, solid advice. Luckily for us, he's both book-smart and savvy in life experience. He's been a TV and music mega-star, had highs that would have killed some people, lows that would have killed others and a career that's lasted longer than some of his fans have been alive. He's a recovering alcoholic now sober for over 25 years, has oodles of relationship experience, he's got great, productive children, he lived through the 60s and is still rocking in his 60s. If that doesn't qualify him to dish out some advice, I don't know what does.” - Therra Cathryn Gwyn, editor (The Daily Panic), February 2008
A very long read of various bits of advice from the Ask Peter Tork columns under the "read more" cut:
“Those of us who came into the public eye did so partly to escape what was awful growing up, be it oppressive households or oppressive social situations. Give us a jolt of acceptance singing or dancing or telling jokes, etc., and we go whole hog for a life of that public acceptance. Unhappily, though, fame is the same as what we're told about collecting possessions; they satisfy for a bit, but if there isn't some way to make you (myself/one's self) whole, the possessions are only temporary satisfactions at best. When a performer leaves the stage, he/she can't take the public acclaim with her. Drugs are another of those things which distract or divert from, or numb us to, the sadness we still carry within. It's a terrible paradox that those who go beyond the normal boundaries in pursuit of fuller self-expression take chances with their lives beyond the normal boundaries as well. Meanwhile, there are answers to this problem. They're simple but not easy. The problem may be seen to be that there is no one trustworthy enough to follow. If you grow up like that, it will be very difficult to find reliable guides in this life. There is a True Guide, however. Many follow the God of their understanding. Others are so turned off by religion and all its adherents that nothing under the name of God will serve. That's okay; the True Guide does not have to have the title God to be useful. It does require an understanding of and a willingness to pursue whatever in life might usefully lead us to an acceptance greater than the temporary one provided by acclaim or possessions. The understanding of this greater acceptance will come slowly, but it comes to those who are willing to keep open their eyes and minds.
Thanks for asking, Peter” (2010)
* * *
"For instance, of course some parents find it easier to kick out their kids than others. That's just natural. But as to the general average of kids today staying more with their parents than in days of yore, well, I partly blame those who let the economy go to hell in a hand basket... or perhaps actively took it there is a better description. It's tougher now than it used to be to find a job, and there is less of a spirit that finding one will give one a real chance to come up in the world. It's therefore understandable that 25-year-olds and some even well older would be discouraged, and have very little incentive to go forth and make their way. Still, I am pretty sure that wanting to work rather than lay about is a preference in human nature, as long as no major roadblocks stand in the way. As to whether it was our hippie lifestyle that led us to treat our kids in ways that made them lazy, well, I wouldn't know for sure. But I do know that every generation is formed by the previous generation's reactions to their parents' generation, etc., etc., since time immemorial. We did the best we could with what we had, and if we don't like what we see, I'm not sure we can do much for the next generation anymore. I believe that my kids appreciate that I am still working on my own life, and that gives them encouragement not to give up, whatever else they may think of me. I don't have much to say about they way they live their lives. Of course, they aren't encamped in my basement, either. Meanwhile, I counsel patience and love, of course. Best of luck, Peter”
* * *
Dear Peter, My name is Mary and I'm in tenth grade. I've been struggling recently because all of my friends and teachers think that I should have a "direction" to my life. They tell me that I need to have my future planned out right now. What college am I going to? What career field will I try to get into? I don't know how to answer any of their questions. Should I know what I want to do with my life even though I'm only fifteen? Thank you, Mary C.
Dear Mary, "Should"? I don't know from should anymore. I once heard someone say "Don't 'should' on yourself." I eventually worked it out to where the word "should" requires the phrase "in order to." You "should" turn left here "in order to" get to the grocery store. Like that. So, the question becomes, "in order to"... what? Check out the letter and answer beforehand. Do you know what you want to be when you grow up? No? Well, perhaps a little investigation is in order. When you were little, what did you dream of becoming? Airline pilot? Doctor, nurse, veterinarian or horse trainer? Wonder Woman? Rock star? Newspaper reporter? Or did you imagine that a life of marriage and kids plus a bit of a trade as, say, a hair stylist was heaven on earth? Go back to your early daydreams and see whether any of them still holds a charge. Be careful here: if you don't know instantly what your dreams were, then it's possible that you were discouraged from holding on to them. If that's true, then that discouragement will get in the way of your trying to access those dreams now. Be extremely gentle with yourself, even to the point of sickeningly coddling yourself (for a little while anyway, heheheh). If your childhood dream comes to the fore, you will have all you need to decide whether and where to go to college, or whatever else you may need. One note: it's wonderful to decide to, say, become a musician, but if "famous musician" is your goal, you may be in for more trouble than you want. If you pursue your dream for what it gives you and let it take you where it will, you will have a pretty cool life almost no matter what. I'm really sure about this. Get back to me if it's not working out. Best of luck, Peter
* * *
Dear Peter, I followed your cancer fight last summer on Facebook and was sooooooooo glad when you got the good news of no more cancer! That was the best news I've ever gotten. Did you learn anything while being sick that you didn't know before you got cancer? Cancer is scary and you were so brave. Love, Kathy
Dear Kathy, Thank you for your good wishes! As to your question: If by "learn" you mean did I change my philosophy after I got my diagnosis, no, I have to say I didn't. I've been at this business of figuring out my life for a long time, and if I didn't have a philosophy of life that included the possibility of having cancer, and even of dying of it, well, then I haven't done a good job in crafting a working philosophy, have I? If, on the other hand, you mean did I discover how quickly and well I bounce back from radiation treatment, well, yeah, I'm a lucky guy, and I learned that to a new extent during the course of this adventure. When I got my initial diagnosis, I admit I had a good cry for a bit. Crying wasn't part of my plan, exactly, but neither was it a black mark in my book, as far as I'm concerned. The gift was that immediately afterwards I was able to ask what the next thing was to do, and went about doing that without a lot of "why me?" or other such attitudes I regard as diversionary. I highly recommend keeping the question "What's the next right thing?" at the forefront of the mind as an antidote to self-pity and other distractions. It works for me. Thanks for asking. Keep well, Peter
* * *
Dear Peter, I'm really glad you are doing this gig again. After reading "Ask Peter Tork" in the Daily Panic, I knew that anyone who has access to your "two cents worth" is getting a lot for their money. Ever since the sixties, when I saw that picture of you "reading" the Upanishads upside down, I've wondered about your own spiritual journey. How much and in what ways have eastern religions and philosophies influenced your personal world view? Was it a struggle to leave the belief system of your childhood? What spiritual practices, aside from the obvious (listening in your heart for new songs) are part of your routine? Thanks again for your careful and kind answers in this column. Namaste, Elaine
Dear Elaine, Well, thanks for the question... I think! Someone recently said that people who want to talk to you about their religion rarely want to hear about yours. I am only too aware that my expressing my spiritual/religious views leaves me open to the charge of proselytizing, which I don't want to do. Everyone has to come to their own views, as far as I'm concerned, whether or not certain conventional religions provide a suitable framework. Having said all that, tho', and since you asked, I will try to give you a quick sketch. Firstly, eastern "religions" (I use quote marks to say maybe they aren't religions*) have indeed been a huge source for me. My mom gave me a book on Zen when I was in my teens, and while I didn't get much from it then, I have found in the years since that Zen Buddhism has an attitude that appeals to me a great deal, as far as I understand it. I'm something of a minimalist, I think, at least in these matters, and Zen has been about as minimal as it's possible to be and still say anything at all. Incidentally, I can also recommend anything by Krishnamurti, who might be seen as uncompromising to the limit, but he's great anyway. I grew up in an agnostic/atheistic/non-theistic household. I wondered for years what everybody was on about when they said "God." I certainly wasn't interested in whatever religion the good boys and girls in school were into, usually Catholic, sometimes Protestant. My father didn't believe in the God he was presented with, and I don't believe in that God either. Howsomever, I do believe that awareness of a connectedness of some sort is critical to human well-being. One Zen teacher said "Life is the teacher." That made all kinds of sense to me, because whatever we're talking about here, it has to be real. Unverifiable assertions are useless to me, so if it's real, it will show in real life, some way, somehow, some time. Anyway, all of that is partly to say that I had no particular religion to break away from at home, except the "religion" of rationalism. I did have a set-to or two with my father about my developing sense of connection, which included phenomena he couldn't allow himself to believe were even possible. That part was tough, and we never did completely reconcile over the point, tho' we got along okay thru the rest of his life. As to my routine today, well, I don't believe I actually have one. My sobriety is the critical issue for me now, so I daily take a moment to consider that, and I reaffirm whatever it takes keep me mindful. There's a strong spiritual component to recovery from addiction/alcoholism, so maybe that counts as a spiritual routine, tho' it seems a bit farfetched to call it that. Mostly it's just what keeps me from acting out so badly that I begin a deteriorating slide to hell. That's enough, by Gar! Namaste to you, too, Peter *Some of the schools of thought I follow don't engage with the concept of God at all. Maybe better to think of them as psychologies or philosophies.
* * *
Hey Peter, Great that you are doing the column again! Really great to read. My question is that, I know you love baseball, but being raised on the East Coast, I wondered if you every got into hockey? Hope On... Tyrone
Dear Tyrone, Nope, I never got into hockey, and I don't think that has anything to do with where I live. Or, rather, I don't think that matters where in the U.S. I live; if I was born and raised in Canada, I imagine I'd enjoy it a great deal more. Mostly, I will say, I never attended hockey games in person 'til much later in life, and couldn't follow the game on TV, and mostly what I saw was another football/basketball/soccer-type game, only on ice, and with a hell of a lot of fighting. If you put it that way, who could care? Years later I watched a minor league hockey game, to much better effect. There was nary a fight, and I got to watch the grace of the competition. That was better, tho' not enough to overcome years of apathy toward the game. I imagine you love the game, so I won't go any further with this, except to say, enjoy what you like, and please, please, please, have a good time. Best, Peter
* * *
Dear Peter, I can't imagine you not being a musician or being cute Peter Tork of the Monkees and Shoe Suede Blues. But if you had never been a musician or never wanted to be one, what do you think you would have done with your time and talent? Have you ever wanted to be something else? I am trying to decide between 3 things on what to be. I think sometimes you know what you are and sometimes you don't. I wish I knew. I love you. Cathy
Dear Cathy, Well, you are asking a couple of questions, one of which is almost unanswerable. I mean, change everything about me and then ask who I am, well, that's a puzzler. If you're asking what other fields I've been drawn to to any noticeable degree, I don't mind saying that the law and the kind of counseling I do in these columns have both looked like reasonable and attractive careers. Strangely enough, there's one other thing in particular I wouldn't mind doing, and that's massage therapy. My father had good hands, and he seems to have bequeathed them to me, and though I've never taken training, and it's a little late in life to get started now, it still seems like a useful life to me. BUT! The big deal question you're asking is how do you (or how does anybody) know what to do in life. That one's much more important. Someone once said to me, if you don't know what to do, it's because you don't know who you are. See, for me, I never realized out loud, so to speak, that music/entertainment was my calling, but I look back on my life, and at every juncture, that's what I went for. So, one way of looking at what you might want to do/be in life is to look back at what you've liked to do so far. One note in particular at this point, which I've made before. Everybody gets shut down to some extent growing up; it's inevitable, and nothing to get bent about. But what it does mean is that it's possible that you haven't thought about the things you liked to do as a child for a long time now. Go back into your past. What turned you on? What gave you the thought: I'd like to do that/be a part of that? Even if it was the way you related to your dolls, there might well be a clue there, if not even an outright signpost with a fanfare. If money is a concern, well, then, money's a concern. There's nothing wrong with striking out for serious independence if there is a concern about being left without resources. I hope, however, that that concern is not the overriding be-all and end-all of your considerations. Money is, of course, critical to civil well-being in this life, but beyond a certain point, more does not improve the quality of life... much. If there seems to be a useful, satisfying career open to you, then follow it unless you're deeply concerned that you won't be independent there, in which case maybe the next more lucrative career path is better for you. Like that. Best of luck, Peter
* * *
Dear Peter, I've been married for over 30 years, the children have now grown and left home. (I married in my teens) I'd hoped my husband and I could enjoy more time together now but over the last few years the physical side of our marriage has dwindled to almost nothing. He's never been very demonstrative but now he seems to prefer the TV to time with me. I've tried different things including making the first move, without success. And I've tried talking to him about it but he says he's happy the way things are and sees no need to change them. He is in good health, has a good job and no money worries. I really miss the feeling of being close to someone, the romance and the passion but he tells me to "grow up, real life's not like that.” Am I being unrealistic? Is this what I should expect the rest of my life to be like? If so it seems very bleak and lonely. Kathryn.
Dear Kathryn, Let's start with your husband's quote: "Grow up, real life's not like that." There's more wrong with that than I can get to, but just for starters, real life can, too, be like that. Real life sometimes is passionate and romantic. It's true that sometimes life is bleak, but the worst thing about your husband's quote is that it's manipulative; he's trying to shut you down for the sake of his own comfort. He's uncomfortable with your preferences. Note that that's what's going on here; it's his preferences vs. yours. I regret to inform you that you won't have an easy time of this no matter what. As I am fond of hearing: "You pays your money and takes your choice." I won't pretend to know every possible way to approach the situation, but the two main topic headings are the external, what we call objective, and internal, subjective approaches. As to the external, let's assume for the sake of discussion that you're fine, and it's all him. My take then would be that there are three main ways to go here. The first is to accept your husband as he is with all that means. (There are two subsets here, depending on your codes: you can live without physical demonstrations of affection or get them on the side. Incidentally, while I'm thinking about that, the second sub-option doesn't necessarily mean finding sexual satisfaction outside the marriage; there's a wide range of physical affection that does not step outside the normal bounds of marriage.) The second option is to get out of the marriage, and enjoy what affection you may find in the singles world, and/or get involved with someone who does behave as you'd like. (Watch out here, tho', you know pitfalls await the unwary in this department.) Thirdly, and maybe the most wearying, is to get yourself and your husband into a counseling situation. Pastor, shrink, MFCC, whatever. This one's tough, because if he doesn't see any need to change, you have to provide him with reasons. Like, maybe, he won't have a marriage at all if he doesn't. Divorce is a bitch, as anyone knows, and the woman still takes the brunt of it, tho' that's generally getting a bit better, but if your husband doesn't think that your preferences and desires constitute any reason for him to reconsider his attitudes, you might be better off in every way out of the marriage. I mean, you can hardly get less affection if you never get another hug in your life, can you? Okay, that's the "change the world" approach. You know what's coming next, don't you? Yeah, sorry, it's about checking yourself out. Here the field is vastly more complicated, and potentially vastly more rewarding. Here the questions to ask yourself are more unsettling. Here's where you plumb the depths of your entire life. Not much to ask, is it? Smile. Someone once told me that if you don't know what to do, it's because you don't know who you are. As I've mentioned before, this one sticks with me. You're upset with your husband. That, I am sure, means that he's breaking some (maybe hidden) rule/s of yours. What is that rule, what are those rules? Where did you get those rules? What would happen if you abandoned those rules? (Will your entire world come crashing down around your ears?) This road is a long and difficult one. It re-engages parental issues (what did it take to get along in your family of origin?) Did you think you deserved a reward for having done right for the last 30 years? (I'm not saying you don't, I'm just suggesting you ask yourself whether what's going on is about your entitlement.) How have you been assuaging your sense of lack? I'll bet you've developed some habits which are not actually supportive of you. Alcohol was my compensatory habit, numbing my feelings of not being truly noticed or regarded. Of course, it really only served to take me away from my own life, not make it better. I didn't know this at the time, finding out only in a supported abstinence. Do you have any such behaviors? Over-eating, shopping unnecessarily, fixing other people, all these serve the same purpose: distracting oneself from one's life. BTW, these may not be fixable without help; seek counsel in your community, and if you don't have one, check out the nearest appropriate anonymous, 12-Step group. Because, it is in one's own life that, finally, all these issues are settled. Don't let me discourage you from the effort, either. The joys and rewards are boundless, a veritable cornucopia of adventure and delight, and up ahead, a better world than you ever let yourself even dream of. Hang in there, do the work, and watch your cosmos change. Let me know how it goes. I'll help as much as I can. Peter
* * *
Dear Peter, I hope this doesn't sound stupid. It’s something I've always wanted to know. Why do rock stars get all the women? I figured you would know. Even my sister likes you a lot and she doesn’t really like anyone very much. She says hi, btw. I was thinking of becoming an architect but that doesn't seem to get the girls excited. Should I learn to play guitar? Thanks bro, Jon L.
Dear Jon, Thanks for asking. I've never wondered the same thing; I've been too busy trying to get the women by being a pop star so I've never had time to stop and tell on the roses, as it were. But since it all came up lo, these many years ago, I've actually given the matter some thought. Here's some of what I've come up with: For one thing, those of us who got into show business did so IN ORDER to get attention. This is sometimes an outgrowth of a conviction in childhood that people didn't much care about us, or even notice us. We determined that if we could get the millions (or, say, dozens) to love us, then it wouldn't matter that we weren't much regarded on an individual basis in our youth. For some of us, it worked. Unfortunately, it has its drawbacks. You don’t get to know these ahead of time, so I’m going to tell you. One of them is, that the girls we do get mostly want us for the show we put on. By that, I don't mean only the stuff that goes on onstage, but the way we present ourselves when we meet someone. I have a ready stock of funny stories and sly ways to hook a girl in, but in the end, that's what she goes for, and when it comes time for me to be myself, she's always kind of shocked. [...] Check it out: architecture is a deeply satisfying career and you're going to find a relationship that suits you if you'll only let it happen and what you do for a living will be only one measure of your true value in the eyes of a worthy, intelligent, supportive woman. Good luck, Peter” - 2008
* * *
“Being a hermit is almost certainly the worst approach to the issue. Too bad there isn't a Hermits Anonymous, but who would tell the hermits about it if they won't communicate with anyone? The problem, as I tried to indicate above, is that there is not enough connection with society, with others, with a circle of friends and people who love you.Tell you what: try volunteering at a soup kitchen or other charity outlet. Rely on what those in charge there tell you about your work, and for God's sake, don't let your mind tell you that your low opinion of yourself trumps their observations.There are a few other suggestions available to you, but the point here, I think, is for you to do something on behalf of your own value. Do something you believe to be valuable and you'll become valuable to yourself and the world.” - Peter
* * *
Peter, My name is Scott and I'm 37 years old. I was wondering, as you look back on your experience in the 1960's, how much of the political and social ideas of the youth movement and counter culture are still valid today and whether or not you feel the same about those ideas now as you did back then. Scott
Dear Scott, I won't go nearly so far as to say that everything that came up in the 60's was valid, but as far as I'm concerned, the 60's were to what will come as Greece was to democracy. Remember that in the 60's the political officeholders had lost all touch with the needs of the nation...kind of like the Bush administration now. Back then the voice of the establishment, Life magazine, was discovered to have doctored photos falsely indicating that LSD caused chromosomal damage. That proved what we (then) kids already knew: that those at the top preached fair play and honesty, but had no more need to honor those concepts than what would give them the next dollar without too much trouble. We saw perfectly clearly that we were on our own, that no one in authority cared about us. Now, like any bunch of kids left to their own devices, some, many, went off the rails. Every false step by somebody walking around under the cloak of the liberal hippy 60's was used as a pretext for dissing the entire generation. Those of us who were truly interested in liberty, fraternity and equality, however, knew we were onto something good and real. What had been called democracy was, and to some extent still is, a pretext for wrapping the will of the greedy and aggressive in a mantle of public acquiescence. Now, the business of wresting power away from those who make a specialty of wielding it will be a long and protracted struggle, with a lot of setbacks along the way. The outlines of the new style of governance are only dimly perceivable, and won't become clear for a long time to come. In the meantime, our job is to practice the principles of fairness and service to the extent possible. One thing is clear: there is a much higher joy in service than there is in acquisition of wealth. (Remember that it isn't money that's the root of all evil, it's the love of money.) Hanging together in brother - and sisterhood is so happy-making you want to sing right out loud. Yeah, I feel the same about those ideas as I did then...in case you couldn't tell. heheheh, Peter
* * *
“Again and again, my message is, behave as you'd like to be behaved towards. Not so original, actually, but truer for me the older I get. Putting it into practice, now, well, I get that it's far from easy.” - Peter
* * *
“I do believe that humans are designed to be happy as a general matter. I am coming to believe that, after biology is addressed (clinical depression, etc.), what usually gets in the way is the story/ies we tell ourselves and each other. If you listen, you’ll hear a lot of people tell you, ‘Oh, I’m the kind of person who always…’ or, ‘Oh, I’d never do such-and-such a thing….’ These are the tools by which we keep ourselves on a self-perpetuating circle—what in fact is really meant by karma. If you spend, say, 15 minutes a day just sitting and listening to your own mind chatter away, you’ll probably start to notice some of these patterns in your own life. Try it for a week. Set a timer, and don’t get up out of your chair unless one of the kids breaks an arm or some such. (BTW, you might not enjoy this at all at first, but hang in there. Must be present to win, you know.) As you become more familiar with the almost-automatic workings of your own head you might begin to detect the patterns that shut you down before you can enjoy what’s going on.I’m not one of those who say that everything is for the best. I am sure, however, that in any given situation, you have a range of options, and some of them are more conducive to calm than others. No matter how bad the situation, it’s always possible to worsen it, with a bit of effort. It’s also possible to take the calmest approach, and I am sure that if you make that your effort, your plan of attack, you will find your life slowly becoming happier. Incidentally, you won’t notice when you change over, but I do believe that one day you’ll notice that you’re happy enough. I certainly hope so. I’m sorry for your loss of your mother. Please take care of yourself, Peter”
* * *
“For one thing, I do divert a fair amount. I used to do it more than I do now (progress not perfection), but when I lived in LA, I’d pick a club at random some nights and go watch a band I’d never heard of. Or I’d take whatever paperback I was reading out to a coffee shop and sit for 90 minutes over a decaf Americano.I spend a fair amount of time on the computer, reading news sites, emailing and doing some games and/or puzzles. (I do believe Sudoku improves my brain. I hope I’m not deluding myself.) I also meditate, which greatly changes the dynamic of being alone. I don’t sit in meditation as much as I believe to be good for me, but when I do, my being alone is no longer a burden. Finally, I remind myself that there are a lot of things I like to do that company feels like it interferes: working on my music on the computer, practicing guitar to a virtual rock rhythm section, reading, both time-passing and significant stuff. And then, sometimes, no matter what, I’m lonely. Like I say, this is happening less and less over time. I have to attribute this, finally, to becoming more comfortable in my own skin. That in turn seems to come from being encouraged to do the right thing. My friends and support people are lining up more and more along the lines of, do respectable things, and you’ll gain self-respect.I wouldn’t know of my own experience, but I hear that volunteering for church and community groups get you out of your isolation. If you try it and you like it, tell me, and maybe I’ll try it, too.”
* * *
“[T]o answer your question directly, how one moves on from something that may not happen again is to find some other thought to substitute for that mournful ‘it may not happen again.’ If you hang on to that formulation it will poison your present. Try, ‘not bad, but let’s see if we can’t do even better.’ Or maybe, ‘God must have some wonderful plan for me. Can’t wait to find out what it is.’”
* * *
“BTW, day job, shmay job. When you need money, you’ll do what you have to, be it x-ray tech, or macburgerslinger. Remember to consider what you can bring to the situation rather than concentrating on what the job is going to suck out of you. You might also check out your life style, to see if you’ve gotten yourself more involved with the material world than would allow you to do what you want.”
* * *
“What I am sure about heartbreak is that you will be glad one day that this is behind you, both in the sense of: ‘Whew, I’m glad that’s over,’ and ‘I’m so happy I’m not involved in that anymore.’ In the meantime, take exquisite care of yourself. Remember you’re no good for anybody if you’re not good to yourself.”
* * *
“If you want to hear from someone who’s older than you, you’ve come to the right place. That ‘Don’t quit before the miracle,’ which of course is not remotely original with me, is maybe one of the best general advises I have. (Can that be the plural of ‘advice’? ) Another, which kind of is a bit more original with me, is, ‘Be a hero to yourself.’ By that I mean, regard your life’s story in the same light as those tales of Greek and Roman heroes, who were born to kings and queens and found their lives dashed down to humble circumstances, and who redeemed their lives thru heroic deeds (with a lot of help). Those heroic stories, it turns out, are everybody’s stories, and it’s deeply useful, I am convinced, to regard ourselves as that kind of hero. Hang in there, and don’t quit just before the miracle. Peter”
* * *
“But this above all: if your well-being is threatened, you must take care of yourself first. There is almost no situation that warrants putting future situations over your present safety. If you can find a way to avoid being at risk at the hands of your tormentors without giving up your program, well and good. But your present safety and sanity come before your future. Please take care of yourself. I hope it works out for you. I’d love to know how it’s going. Please keep me up to date.”
* * *
“Firstly, anyone who can’t stand your history doesn’t deserve you, plain and simple.”
* * *
“One other thing: I am totally sure that Zen does not tell us to put up with any and everything that comes our way. I believe instead that the hope and idea is to do what must be done, including fighting for our human rights and needs, but without going into the blame game, doing what we have to do with a will and with best wishes for all involved. I think Jesus meant something like this, too, when he said love your enemies.”
* * *
“You’re not obliged to be where you’re not appreciated under any circumstances whatever. I’m sure of this.”
* * *
“But I can promise that your situation is not remotely hopeless. As to those who are giving you grief about your grief, well, basically, and not to put too fine a point on it, fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.”
* * *
Hi, Peter! First, we just want to say that you are the BEST THING EVER. Second of all, I have a question for you involving what your opinion is on gay rights. My boyfriend and I have been dating seriously for three years, and in that time, have come across more example of discrimination than I would care to recap. We would like to know: what is your opinion on gay rights? Should we be treated with common decency and respect, or are we subhuman because we happen to be in love? Do we not deserve the right to marry, or adopt children? And why do people who think of themselves as good people treat other human beings this way? Best wishes, Mike
Well, Mike, Is this a trick question? Because the answer(s) is (are) the same whether you’re gay, black, a woman, Jewish, Catholic, handicapped, poor…have I left anyone out? (And I don’t want to hear middle-class straight white males try to tell me that they’re discriminated against in this modern, PC world. We m-c, s, w m’s are incredibly privileged, and while I’m sorry for the poor shlub who feels his place has been taken by somebody less qualified, etc., I think of the deprivations historically visited on all the above-mentioned before I get too indignant.) Oh, and one more thing. Everybody, believe it or not, believes that they are good people doing the best they can. There are very few exceptions, and even most of those few exceptions believe that they’re only getting back what was rightfully theirs in the first place. The very, very few exceptions left have errors in their brain circuitry that block their learning about such a thing as real, as opposed to public, consequences. These people are called sociopaths, and there seems to be no help for them. Everybody’s scared, you know. Everybody, to some extent or another. Trembling, Peter
* * *
Dear Peter, I am 16 years old, and am a huge fan of The Monkees!!! When I saw your advice column, I was wondering if you could help me out. Being 16, I feel like I'm being forced to grow up very suddenly. My parents keep talking about getting my permit, taking up part-time jobs, and they're even already asking me to look at colleges! To be honest, I don't think I'm ready for any of it. Driving scares me to pieces, and so does getting a job. As for college, I don't even like leaving home to stay at a friends house!! How could I possibly be ready to leave home just yet? I recognize that I've still got a few years before that happens, but the I'm jittery just thinking about it! The driving situation scares me a lot mostly because the thought of myself having the control of a car freaks me out. I don't know what to do. How do I get rid of all this fear and anxiety?? Forever your loving and adoring fan, Lydia P.S. I was just wondering if perhaps you could come perform somewhere in the Albany area. I'd LOVE to see you in concert very much!
Dear Lydia, my loving and adoring fan, I’m sad to hear of your anxieties. You must realize that there is no earthly reason why these thoughts of future activities should be scary. I underline “earthly” to say that your anxieties can not, rationally, arise from what is normally an excited anticipation. Therefore and hence, you have issues. Don’t despair, everybody does, to some extent or another. They can be dealt with. The point is that something is dogging you. I believe, on scant evidence, that it’s likely that you have childhood issues that cloud your sense of pleasure at the coming adventure of your young adult years. The other possibility is that you have anxiety disorders stemming from some genetic distraction. Don’t freak out here, either. This, too, is treatable. There’s one more possibility that occurs to me: your parents may be only too anxious to get rid of you. Maybe they want to have wild sex all over the house, and believe your living there is getting in the way…heheheh. I don’t know, but (ok, joking aside) it’s possible that they’re pushing you too hard for their own reasons, unrelated to the natural course of your leaving the nest. If this is true, it would explain to some extent your dislocation on the matter. By the way, if that is the explanation, you probably wouldn’t be able to get them to say so; I’m sure they’d regard it as too shameful an admission to come clean about. That would leave you in a bit of a pickle. BUT here’s the good news: none of this is fatal. It doesn’t even have to be crippling. No matter where it came from, it can be dealt with. Firstly, as you note yourself, you don’t have to face the stuff right away. Your anxiety may disappear as you get nearer to it all. In the meantime, and alternatively, you may find the psychological and spiritual counseling it takes to get past this. I also recommend meditation as a means of calming the soul. My favorite brand of that is Zen, but whatever you prefer you should do. Good luck, Peter PS, I’d love to bring the band to the Albany area. Keep your eyes open. It could happen.
* * *
Dear Peter! I have a problem with my volume in choir. My director is always telling me to sing louder, but I'm afraid of not sounding good/messing up, so I tend to veer away from singing out. I just don't want to mess up. I was wondering, do you know of any good ways to squash that perfectionist side of me? Bay, 13
Dear Bay, Yeah. Sing out loud, mess up a bunch and laugh right out loud at yourself. Also, check out the others in choir. Any of them singing worse than you would? Yes? I thought so. OK, then. Singing well at a new volume level takes a bit of practice, tho’, and you might want to warn your director and everyone around you that it may take a bit of time before you are singing loudly and well. BTW, there will be no squashing sides of oneself on my watch, no suppressing the perfectionist. Rather celebrate another side of yourself, the lovable imperfect side, and let the perfectionist side be. That side has her virtues, too, and can be a good friend sometimes. Keep rockin’, Peter
* * *
“I believe very much in all that I believed in back in the 60’s. I hope I’m more aware of the practicalities than I was then, but I am positive that the values and principles I held then are critical to the well-being of the planet, or at the very least, critical to growth and contentment in the population. As to the practicalities: the chance of no more war in our lifetimes is so close to zero that I don’t imagine it possible, tho’ there well may be progress along these lines. May be. Sometimes I see the world as an eternal horse race between salvation and dissolution, now one, and now the other gaining the lead. But to the extent that we can learn, each and all of us, that the cooperative good is good for the greatest individual good (with safeguards, to be sure), that forgiveness is the route to true inner peace, and that not everything we deem wrong or bad may be so, to that extent hassles of all shapes, sizes and colors will diminish. I am so sure of all this that I would, I hope, be willing to bet my life on these principles.”
* * *
For starters, I will report that my kids mom and I never told them to be polite. Because we were polite to them, they naturally said "please" and "thank you" without any extra prompting on our parts. As to broccoli, well, 3-year-olds cannot be expected to be tactful, and whether they eat it or not must be a matter of negotiation, not of coercion, I'm sure. I used to gag at the taste of Brussels sprouts, and nothing could get me to eat them. I still don't like them much. heheheh Peter
* * *
“Let me say, tho', that I am not one of those who believes that everything is for the best. The only thing I'm sure of is that I can bring the best attitude possible to the situation. It seems to me that you believe you had a bargain with the forces of Karma, and that you feel betrayed. Betrayal is very infuriating, to be sure, but the laws of God and/or Karma are not actually known to us, merely guessed at. I've learned recently to ask myself one question: Would you rather be right or happy? I urge you to let go of what you thought was your due, and find the best way to live with what you got. There's still a lot of joy to be had regardless, I am sure.”
#Peter Tork#Tork quotes#00s Tork#<3#The Monkees#Monkees#60s Tork#Tork letters#10s Tork#long read#more for the solid Tork advice files#his advice was always thoughtful and eloquent#and super smart#VERY long read#this is excellent advice for any age really#apologies for the length of this post but it's a worthwhile read imho#love his mind#2013#2014#2008#2009#2010#Ask Peter Tork#can you queue it
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Whumptober 2020 - Updated
Welcome to Whumptober 2020! We’re doing things a little differently this year so please make sure to read the Event Info carefully. We are also excited to announce the addition of an AO3 Collection, which can be found here.
We hope you’re as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
No 1. LET'S HANG OUT SOMETIME Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging
No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY "Pick Who Dies" | Collars | Kidnapped
No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint
No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building
No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING? On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue
No 6. PLEASE.... "Get it Out" | No More | "Stop, please"
No 7. I'VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker
No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? "Don't Say Goodbye" | Abandoned | Isolation
No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD "Take Me Instead" | "Run!” | Ritual Sacrifice
No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood
No 11. PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying
No 12. I THINK I'VE BROKEN SOMETHING Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust
No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask
No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire
No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong
No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage
No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused
No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia
No 19. BROKEN HEARTS Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor's Guilt
No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE Lost | Field Medicine | Medieval
No 21. I DON'T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection
No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal
No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation
No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation
No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears
No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD... Migraine | Concussion | Blindness
No 27. OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage
No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. Accidents | Hunting Season | Mugged
No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest
No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury
No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE Experiment | Whipped | Left for Dead
Alternate Prompt List
Alt 1. Punctured
Alt 2. Falling
Alt 3. Comfort
Alt 4. Stitches
Alt 5. Stoic Whumpees
Alt 6. Altered States
Alt 7. Found Family
Alt 8. Adverse Reactions
Alt 9. Memory Loss
Alt 10. Nightmares
Alt 11. Presumed Dead
Alt. 12. Water
Alt. 13 Accidents
Alt. 14 Shot
Alt. 15 Carry/Support
Event Info
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 Official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don't have to include the exact wording into your work). Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, and photo/video/audio edits. Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2020 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)
#bruised, #stabbed, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)
#nsfw, #nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober2020 blog. They must be tagged in the order above.
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month.
Questions not addressed below can be directed to this blog as well.
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gif set or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)
Q. Do I have to do all 31 Days? Can I post early/late?
Participate as much or little as you like, and post whenever! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.11, #psych101). Combining prompts into one piece of work is okay, and posting late is as well so as long as it’s in October.
Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help clarify. That said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :)
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)
Q. Can I upload/repost my whumptober content to other social media platforms?
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The Kiss
◐ PART VIII of THE ALPHA ◐
◐ Series Masterlist ◐
◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Part IV ◐ Part V ◐ Part VI ◐ Part VII ◐
Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader
Rating: Hard Mature 18+ (for this installment)
Warnings: this one is a little darker, descriptions of violence, ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming, strong sexual innuendo, discussion of violence relating to ritual combat, possessive behavior, injuries and discussion of injuries, lots of people have, use and are threatened by knives, kidnapping and drugging, its not as bad as it sounds, but it is definitely a bit darker…
Word Count: 4250
Author’s Note: I said it before but it bears repeating...You have no idea what your support has meant to me. Truly your asks and your messages and comments…they made me so happy. You made me believe that people wouldn’t forget about this story. I am so grateful you were able to wait. As many of you know I faced a medical emergency recently and you were all so lovely. The best followers on this site and I MEAN that. As always, my angels @ppersonna @xjoonchildx and @untaemedqueen were (and continue to be) the best betas and the best friends anyone could ask for. My thanks to ALL of you for helping me bring this story to life! I don’t know what I would do without your daily encouragement and your daily support. You guys are the heartbeat of this story. It wouldn’t be here without you.
——◐——
Two Years Ago
——◐——
Centuries ago the moon goddess stumbled across her human soulmate while he was sleeping. Struck by his beauty, but reluctant to reveal her identity, the goddess began to visit him in his dreams where she could hide her true form and appear before him as a mortal woman.
In the world of dreams their love flourished and from that blessed union the packs were born…
The wolf nations celebrated this sacred romance every ten years during the Festival of the Lover’s Moon…
The day of the festival was spent eating and drinking and dancing at large parties, but when the sun went down… well—
That’s when things got really interesting.
On the night of Lover’s Moon the young unmated wolves of the pack were permitted to commemorate this legendary love story in a decidedly scandalous manner.��
The unmated men assumed the role of the goddess’s sleeping lover—they were blindfolded (to represent slumber) and led into a large sectioned off area of the dark forest to ‘wait and dream.’
Unmated she-wolves over the age of maturity (eighteen) took herbal scent suppressors and ventured out into that very same forest in order to anonymously ‘visit’ the young men ‘in their dreams’...
The rules for what exactly that meant were pretty fast and loose which was why Min Yoongi was thanking the goddess and every other deity he could think of that Yunli was still seventeen.
“But I will be eighteen in two days! Please can’t I just—“
“No. Absolutely not under any circumstances ever.”
“But Yoonji is going!”
“Ji-ah is nearly nineteen and has never been interested in any of the snotty little man-pups of our pack.” He snorted. “She’s probably going out just so she can shove a bunch of them in the lake.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Yunli mumbled irritably.
Kim Taehyung yawned idly and snuggled into the cozy little pallet he prepared at the base of his favorite tree. The blindfold he and all the other unmated ‘lovers’ wore was made from witchcloth and could not be removed while the sun was down—so he had snuck into the forest earlier to set everything up.
Now all he had to do was wait until—
“H-Hi Taehyung.”
Oh sh—
“Uh. Hello...Miss.”
Taehyung didn’t recognize the owner of that voice, but he knew for sure who it wasn’t.
“I was hoping to find you tonight.”
This is not good.
“Well I’m—I’m flattered… naturally but—”
She touched his hand and he squeaked.
“I was thinking you and I might get to know each other a little bet—eep!”
The sharp point of a custom blade pressed directly into the unfortunate young beta girl’s pulse point.
“Are you lost, puppy?”
A heavy cloak obscured the newcomer’s features, but there was no mistaking her meaning.
Taehyung bit his lip to keep from snorting as the poor she-wolf scrambled away.
“Ji-ah,” he tsked with feigned disapproval, “that wasn’t very nice.”
Min Yoonji grinned as she sheathed her wicked looking dagger and slid languidly into his arms.
“You don’t like nice girls, Kim Taehyung.”
“I like you,” he whispered breathlessly against her lips. “Nice or not—it doesn't matter to me…” His hands slid greedily over her soft curves—pulling her closer till he felt the beat of her heart against his own. “I’ll like anything as long as it’s you.”
This was the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas.
Jimin huffed as he struggled to find a comfortable position against the giant boulder he’d chosen as his perch.
Why did I let Taehyung talk me into this?
He could be at home—in bed—comfortably sleeping off the all-day feast he’d indulged in.
Instead he was out in the middle of the forest sitting blindfolded on a rock in the off chance that one of the she-wolves was out looking for him.
Not bloody likely.
Not when prime targets like Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook—and countless others—were scattered throughout the woods.
“Park Jimin?”
Every hair on Jimin’s body stood on end.
It was a soft whisper—the speaker clearly didn’t want her voice to be recognized, yet something about the sound sent a curious frisson of interest down his spine.
He gulped.
“Yes… that’s me. But if you’re looking for Hoseok he’s just a little deeper in. You probably caught his scent downwind so—”
“I’m not looking for Hoseok.”
Jimin licked his lips and the sight of it sparked a odd curl of heat in the pit of your belly.
“I don’t know where anyone else is…”
“That’s quite alright.” A muted shuffle of movement reached his ears as you settled down beside him. “I was looking for you.”
“Oh…” He rubbed the back of his neck idly. “Are you sure?”
Laughter like fairy bells whispered through the air and Jimin felt his heart clench.
Don’t get your hopes up.
“Who are you?”
You were silent for a long time and then—
“I am someone who owes you a debt. One I have never been able to repay.”
Jimin’s head tilted curiously as he considered your words.
“I’m sorry, miss… you must be mistaken. There isn’t—“
“You don’t remember.”
It was a statement—not a question. Your voice was nearer now. He could feel the warmth of your body close to his—though not quite touching. “It was your wolf that saved me. But you had not gone through the Change yet.”
Familiar shame spiked sharply in his chest.
“I’m seven years past the Change...Why have you never mentioned this before?”
“Circumstances prevented me from doing so.”
There was a cold finality to your pronouncement—which of course did nothing but further inflame his curiosity.
“Then why come to me now?”
“I’ve come to repay you.”
Jimin’s mouth dropped open.
Were you trying to—?!
“Oh—no please that-that’s not necessary—I could never take advantage of—”
You giggled again.
“I am not offering my body, Park Jimin.”
Jimin breathed a heavy sigh of relief then shook his head with a wry chuckle.
“Well considering the circumstances I can hardly be blamed for assuming you might be. And honestly most men would jump at the chance to—”
“You...are not most men.”
Jimin’s eyes narrowed beneath his blindfold.
“Little she-wolf—I may not be wrestling bears for fun or bare knuckle boxing in the town square, but I am still an alpha.”
The weight of his command poured over your body as he spoke the last word. There was no order or intent—he had simply given you a taste of his power.
Aside from your direct blood relatives, no alpha had ever dared unleash their compel in your presence—therefore you were utterly unprepared for the effect it had on you—
Utterly unprepared for the strange surge of want so potent and profound that it stole the breath from your body.
It was primal—invigorating—
Sensual.
You and your wolf may not have been entirely connected yet, but she was suddenly quite vocal about her desire to fully bask in Park Jimin’s attention.
A wicked grin played over his lips as he leaned in closer and you could almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your cheek.
“Did you think I would not desire the touch of a beautiful woman in the moonlight?” he whispered.
Please touch me, Alpha.
Your eyes widened.
Dear goddess. Your inner wolf was turning out to be a shameless hussy.
“You might desire it, but you are far too honorable to accept it as payment for a debt.”
Jimin drew back warily.
You were correct of course. After all he had refused you when he believed that was your intent but—
“How could you know that?”
Evade. Evade now.
“Well... how could you know I was beautiful? You’re blindfolded.”
He shrugged and your wolf took careful note of the way it made all the pretty muscles in his back and shoulders ripple.
He will give us such strong—
Oh boy.
He will do no such thing. Please calm down.
“Not everything must be seen with your eyes.”
Is that how you found me? All those years ago...
Questions churned chaotically beneath your consciousness but you dared not give voice to them.
Focus.
“I must repay this debt. Ask for what you want and—if it is in my power—I swear it will be yours.”
Jimin smiled again, but this time it was somehow softer. For a moment he looked almost…
Sad.
“I’m afraid that the only thing I have ever wanted is not within your power to give...and I dare not ask you or anyone else for it.”
For her.
He sighed and drew even farther away from you—in fact it seemed like he was preparing to leave.
No.
Your hand reached out almost of it's its own accord and wrapped tightly around his wrist. The contact sent a shock of searing heat through his veins and he froze.
“Please alpha. It is not acceptable for someone like me—” a leader, a Luna, “—to owe another my life and offer nothing in return. You must let me pay my debt.”
Omega, his wolf growled, sweet perfect omega.
Suppressors may have hidden your scent, but the siren song of an omega pleading prettily in his ear was unmistakable—irresistible…
“What if all I want is your name?”
You sighed deeply.
“I cannot give you that. My name is… not mine to offer.”
Jimin laughed.
“A woman I cannot remember with a name I cannot know and whose face I cannot see.” He shook his head. “Perhaps you are just a figment of my imagination.”
It was hard to explain what happened next...For whatever reason his words cut you deeply and you were overcome with the desire—no need—to refute them somehow.
“I’m real enough,” you whispered, bringing his hand to your cheek.
Jimin was genuinely beginning to wonder if you were a witch as well as a she-wolf. Being close to you was intoxicating and the urge to draw you in was steadily overpowering every other thought.
“Could I ask you for a kiss, then?”
“You—...You saved my life and all you want... is a kiss?”
The air grew heavier as the strange magnetic pull between you swelled to a silent inescapable crescendo.
“In Seoul I often searched for someone who could ease my loneliness, yet each time I walked away emptier than before.” His thumb brushed gently over your lips and your eyes fluttered shut. “I have never had a kiss that meant anything to me.”
But yours might.
It was unclear who moved first, whether he pulled you to him or you surged forward but when your bodies aligned and your lips met his for the first time it was as if you had never been separate from one another.
As if you had always been deeply—intimately —together.
The indescribable feel of him lit over your senses like a struck match. It was an ignition in the purest sense of the word— a fiery visceral awakening fueled by a consuming flood of desire.
Yes, Alpha.
He might never see your face or hear your name, but Jimin knew he would remember the taste of you for the rest of his life. It was hot and bright like liquid sunshine— a pure relentless light flowing through him where there was once only darkness.
A soft needy moan rose up from your chest and he growled in primal satisfaction as you melted against him.
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt of their own accord, desperately trying to bring him closer until he wrapped his arms around you in a heated embrace.
“Please,” he begged breathlessly against your mouth. “Please tell me who you are.”
The words crashed over you like a bucket of ice —dousing the hazy pleasure of his kiss with a cold bite of reality. Suddenly you were wrenching yourself away from him and your wolf whimpered in misery at the loss of his touch.
“I can’t,” you whispered.
And then you were gone.
“Did someone hurt you?”
You looked up to find Jin taking in your tears with cold fury.
Twin knives were already gleaming dangerously in his hands and he appeared ready to filet whichever bastard was foolish enough to make you cry.
“No,” you sniffed—well aware of how pitiful you were at the moment—crying in the corner of your cousin’s kitchen. “I got myself into this mess without any help—as usual.”
Jin sighed and slid down next to you.
“Tell me.”
“Something happened that I…I didn’t intend.”
“Oh I knew that already. The Luna isn’t supposed to be running around on the night of Lover’s Moon in a forest full of blind horny wolves—“
You snorted and shook your head.
“You’re absolutely right. I should have stayed away.”
Jin’s eyes narrowed and he wondered if perhaps you had caught Kim Namjoon with another omega. Nothing would be official until after the Change of course, but your bond with him was basically a foregone conclusion at this point.
“You went looking for someone...didn’t you.”
You nodded miserably—all but confirming his fears. He made a mental note to push Namjoon in the swamp at the next available opportunity.
“You know... the stories say that a Luna is powerfully drawn to her mate under the Lover’s Moon—that her wolf can sense him even before the Change.” He reached over and gently began to brush the tears from your eyes. “So it’s not surprising that you sought him out, but it’s not really fair to hold whatever it is you saw against him. There is no relationship between you yet and…” he chuckled, “kisses beneath festival moonlight don’t really mean anything anyways.”
It was clear that Jin had somehow gotten the entirely wrong impression, but perhaps that was for the best.
No one knew of your connection to Jimin and no one had seen what passed between you.
Still…
Something about his assessment stung you.
“You really believe that? ...That a kiss exchanged tonight means nothing?”
“I do.” Jin spoke with conviction. “There’s ancient magic at play in those woods. You can’t always trust what you see—or what you feel.”
“Oh I...I didn’t know…”
After a moment you laid your head against his shoulder and let the last of your tears run silently down your cheek.
“Jin-ah have you ever wanted something you knew you couldn’t have?”
“Yes.” He sighed heavily and pulled you in to snuggle a bit closer. “When I was younger I dreamed of having a mate just like everyone else…”
The words were so softly spoken—almost wistful. Your heart splintered just hearing them.
“But… she could be out there—your mate.”
Jin shook his head.
“When is the last time you heard of a female alpha?”
Fresh tears welled up in your eyes.
“Jin…”
“Hey,” he whispered, “don’t waste your crying on me. I’ve long since come to terms with who and what I am.”
“You’re not sad anymore?”
“Well… maybe sometimes I am… but I had to accept that people like us are not like everyone else. Our destinies were written long before we were born.”
“And you believe you’re destined to be alone?”
“Wolves in a pack are never really alone.”
“Yes...but they can be lonely,” you whispered thinking back to Jimin’s words.
For a moment Jin’s eyes were the saddest you had ever seen them.
“Well...I suppose they can.” Then he chuckled and gave your nose an affectionate little tap. “But you don’t need to worry about that. When the time comes Namjoon will take his place at your side and the two of you will build a wonderful life together... Isn’t that what you want?”
Isn’t it?
Your treacherous thoughts drifted back to the boy in the moonlight—to the way your body sang when he touched you and the strange insatiable desire to know him and be known by him in return.
“Please...Tell me who you are.”
A heavy ache settled in your heart.
You were the Luna of the mountain nations. A true born moon princess.
You could never be the woman who kissed Park Jimin underneath the stars.
You were not like everybody else.
“...Yes. That is what I want.”
——◐——
Now
——◐——
Jimin’s heart pounded as he tore through the dark paths of the wood with Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jungkook close behind.
He had never led an attack—had never been trained to command wolves in battle.
It was his first true test of leadership and he hadn’t even been a leader for twenty-four hours.
Yet the fears and anxieties that might have normally clouded his mind were notably absent.
There was only you.
Ironically Jimin owed Namjoon yet another debt—this time for explaining what exactly someone like him was capable of.
The alpha Jin captured had given up their plan and position after being exposed to Jimin’s unique gifting, so he had a concrete target in his mind… He suspected however, that your captors had taken precautions after leaving some of their men behind. They had shifted their camp.
But it wouldn’t be enough to save them.
Jimin didn’t need your location to find you.
He spent years refusing to look at you, and even then he always knew exactly where you were. He could sense you in any crowd—hear your voice in a thousand.
Once it had tormented him cruelly to be so aware of you.
Now it was the only thing keeping him sane.
He followed the connection between his heart and yours like a lifeline and it guided him as surely as the stars.
The alphas followed him without question.
If any of them harbored lingering doubts before, they were firmly laid to rest after what they saw at the cottage. No ordinary wolf could do what he had done.
The Alpha would bring back their Luna and retribution would be swift indeed.
The drugs in your system kept swinging you in and out of lucidity like a nightmarish pendulum. You tried to shift after the initial nausea faded, but whatever they gave you kept your wolf caged beneath your skin.
Jimin
The longing you felt for your mate was the only thing tethering you to reality. You could almost hear him echoing in the far corners of your mind—
I’m coming Omega—hold on.
I’ll find you.
Part of you recognized that his voice was likely nothing more than the wistful creation of your drug-addled mind, still you clung to it like the last shred of hope while the minutes (or hours) flew past.
Chaos clouded your thoughts even in clearer moments as many unavoidable concerns forced their way through the haze.
Jin was at the house with you when they broke in. You had no way of knowing if he survived.
The men who took you were crass and irreverent. Their eyes followed your form with too much interest and too little respect.
It was starting to get cold and (due to you nearly dismembering a high council member and needing to be compelled unconscious) you were still wearing a thin white ceremonial dress which offered very little protection from the elements.
You wondered idly if your idiot captors would let you freeze to death before they accomplished whatever it was they took you for. They clearly needed you for something or you would have been long dead by now.
None of them struck you as particularly brilliant planners so the mastermind must be somewhere else...
Frankly the entire situation was as puzzling as it was troubling. Iron Claw had always gotten along well with your pack.
Technically they were (almost) what the human governments called a vassal state. The presence of a Luna determined the dominant pack in a region and the Luna of the mountain nations had been born into Silver Fang—your pack—for the last thousand years or so.
Why would they challenge us now?
The birth of a Luna indicated that the goddess had chosen that pack to lead. Their willingness—not only to kidnap you—but to go against the dominant pack by doing so was alarming to say the least.
A sudden explosion of movement and sound interrupted your contemplation. Motion erupted all around you—boots pounding on the ground, men falling into their wolf forms, knives being drawn…
You lifted your head—straining forward to see the source of the commotion—and nearly collapsed in relief when you finally did.
Alpha
Your mate stood at the edge of the camp flanked by two enormous black wolves.
A deadly looking jingum sword gleamed dangerously in his right hand. You recognized it immediately as your great-grandfather’s combat blade—the thousand year-old weapon of the Silver Fang Alphas.
Relief flooded your chest all over again at the sight of it. Only Jin could have given him that sword—which meant he was still alive.
The black wolves—Yoongi and Jungkook—snarled viciously but made no move to attack.
Your captors were still scrambling into some sort of combat formation when Jimin finally spoke.
“You have violated our sacred laws, trespassed in sovereign pack lands, kidnapped a Luna under the protection of our goddess, abducted the mate of the Silver Fang Alpha, and risked open war between our peoples.” He took a single step forward. “Surrender now and I will be merciful.”
The biggest of your captors—a man you recognized as the de facto leader—spat viciously on the ground.
“You are not my Alpha,” he growled.
A cold—almost cruel—smile twisted over Jimin’s lips.
“Very well.”
Then he dropped to one knee and a massive grey wolf—Taehyung—leapt over his head and tore out the defiant leader’s throat before he even hit the ground.
Your mouth dropped open.
Bangtan formation.
Yoongi and Jungkook lunged forward in opposite directions, tackling their targets to the forest floor in a bloody clash of teeth and claws.
One of the larger Iron Claw alphas half-shifted and charged Jimin but his arm shot out lightning fast, catching his attacker by the throat to send him flying through the air into a tree.
The next several minutes could only be described as terrifyingly beautiful.
It was immediately clear that Jimin had been holding back when he fought Namjoon.
He dispatched his opponents with such elegant savagery it was almost art.
You were so mesmerized watching Jimin sensually sword dance his way through a dozen alphas nearly twice his size that you almost missed Taehyung’s wolf rushing over with a dagger clenched between his teeth.
Luna are you okay?
You grinned and held up your rope-bound wrists.
“I’ll be better once you pass me that knife.”
Taehyung nodded once and dropped the blade at your feet before tackling another wolf that was tearing towards the two of you.
You sawed through the ties around your ankle first then twisted your arms to try and slice through the restraints on your wrist.
The Iron Claw wolves were clearly no match for Jimin and his alphas.
Jungkook and Yoongi chased after the few who were trying to run while Taehyung half-shifted to subdue the handful of wolves left alive as prisoners. Only Jimin continued to fight as the last three of your captors still standing took turns being slammed into the dirt by his strikes.
He was clearly capable of dispatching them, but you were fairly convinced that you would die if you had to stay away from him for another second. The ropes, however, were surprisingly thick and the angle you were cutting them at wasn’t the best. If only—
You were almost free when you saw it.
One of your captors had pulled a hunting javelin from their supply wagon. He must have hid himself at the onset of the fight, but now he was comfortably concealed by the shadows—and taking aim at Jimin.
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
The attacker appeared to handle the weapon with familiarity. He was too far back—too well hidden—Jimin would never see him in time—
The last cord around your wrist snapped and you were on your feet, pushing through the combined haze of fury and sedatives to charge the wolf who dared attack your mate.
By the time he saw you it was far too late.
Under the effects of the drug your aim was a little skewed but you weren’t Kim Seokjin’s cousin for nothing.
One clean flick of your wrist and the dagger shot through the air, burying itself between the brute’s shoulder blades—all the way to the hilt.
His body fell to the ground just as Jimin sent the last of your captors careening into a pile of previously defeated foes.
For a moment all was quiet.
Then your eyes locked across the distance and everything around you sharpened to a single whispered word.
“Jimin.”
He had run non-stop for miles and torn apart a dozen wolves to get to your side—no amount of space between you now was tolerable.
The sword clattered to the forest floor as he moved toward you—desperate to feel you—to wrap himself around you and know that you were safe.
What happened next was as natural as breathing.
You opened to him and he lifted you into his arms, taking your lips in a hot unrepentant kiss.
Fire exploded across your senses, burning away everything but the touch and taste of him. Every part of you was at once fiercely and gloriously alive. Desperate moans passed between you as he licked into your mouth—a dark primal promise of the pleasure he would take between your thighs.
“Alpha,” you whimpered, too delirious with want to manage anything else.
Suddenly Jimin’s eyes shot open. His hands flew to cup your face, searching it with a mixture of realization and disbelief.
“You… It was you.”
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So I recently finished watching The Crow: Stairway to Heaven (1998), the 22-episode TV series based on the film The Crow (1994) and the comic of the same name. I’ve seen a few posts here and there about it being weird, but since even a lot of those have come from people who haven’t actually seen it who're going off hearsay, I haven’t seen any definitive list of the weird things that are in it. There are many weird things in it and here they are. Suffice to say there are spoilers in here so don’t read it if you live in a world where people could really actually care about spoilers for The Crow: Stairway to Heaven.
I’m going to assume that anyone who doesn’t follow me who’s interacting with this post has seen the film, but just in case (because I know 90% of my followers are here for Naruto), uh, musician Eric Draven is resurrected by a magical crow to exact bloody vengeance upon the people who murdered him and his fiancé Shelly Webster. Daryl Albrecht is the cop assigned to their murder case. Sarah Mohr is a young teenage girl who is also there, and her mother Darla is a drug addict who is romantically involved with one of the murderers. Murderers aside, I think that’s the reasonable dramatis personae.
The first episode is just a retelling of the 1994 film but with all the swear words and most of the gore taken out. Also Eric sings a song and it sucks. Those who watch this show will be hearing that song so very much.
The most important thing to know about this show right off the bat is that it is a police procedural and killing is wrong.
Eric roundhouses a guy for smoking a cigarette.
Good people get resurrected by crows; evil people get resurrected by cute albino pythons.
Eric cannot enter a room without dropping from the ceiling or jumping in the window. I love him but because he’s a cool martial arts guy he cannot use a door.
He also has a lot of casual conversations while exercising shirtless.
At one point he is lying on the floor and gets up to greet someone by doing a handstand.
At another point I’m pretty sure he snaps a man's fucking neck with his thighs? Not to death but like, to pain, certainly.
Dragula plays in episode 4. Episode 1 contains the song Powertrip by Monster Magnet, which isn’t particularly significant, but they’re my favourite band so I noticed.
Episode 5 is the circus episode. Pretty much every episode is a themed episode that most shows only get round to over the course of like 8 seasons? Episode 10 concerns daredevil car racing.
There's a part where the police are searching for Eric and a witness has described a man who's "Asian or Hispanic" and Albrecht's face lights up so quick like "Woah! I know an Asian or Hispanic man!" and that’s how he knows it’s Eric.
Sarah is a lead in this show and she and Eric kinda form the fun tag team for banter. She waves her hand in front of his face and looks at him funny when he’s having a traumatic flashback. Their dialogue is my favourite. Here are some examples:
SARAH: How many [pull-ups] did you do?
ERIC: I stopped counting at 200.
SARAH: That’s not normal.
SARAH: You need to get out more.
ERIC: But I don’t wanna get out more!
SARAH [ABOUT ERIC]: The man doesn’t eat. The man doesn’t sleep. He only sits around thinking about his dead girlfriend.
ERIC: I’m getting these weird feelings…
SARAH: I hate to break it to you, but all your feelings are weird.
Reincarnation is also a thing separately from the resurrection. Eric and Shelly have met each other in every single one of their previous lives, during which they have always been played by the same actors.
Several random characters are also shown to be able to commune with the dead, including a child who lives in a cage.
Eric talks someone down from a suicide.
Eric talks someone down from doing a revenge killing.
There’s a recurring character who’s a hacker called Nytmare.
Shelly becomes corporeal twice, once by possessing someone and once by angelic powers or something I’m not sure I didn’t listen. Oh yeah Shelly's also a lead in this show, waiting in the afterlife and sometimes being homoerotic with deceased women Eric chastely assists.
One episode features the Russian mob.
There’s a character called the Skull Cowboy. Now, the Skull Cowboy is in the original comic, but unlike the original comic he is regrettably not a skull nor demonstrably a cowboy, save for his cool jacket. He’s great though, shoutout to my man the Skull Cowboy.
Eric beats up a fire-eater with a fire extinguisher.
In one episode Eric's convinced he's gonna die so he puts on a white t-shirt and blue jeans. That’s mildly amusing because he’s a goth but I mostly bring it up because this was the episode I truly became aware of how sculpted his pecs are.
In episode 9, Eric is hypnotised by a man (recurring character) who believes John Lennon's consciousness is alive on the internet and he mentally regresses to one of his past lives, when he was an Indigenous American man. I have no further comment on this episode other than the fact that They Do A Mysterious Ritual and there are slurs.
Episode 20 establishes Eric as a Vietnamese orphan adopted during the war. That’s the secret brother episode (Eric's secret brother is played by Corey Feldman).
One further comment on episode 9, actually - Eric makes a gay joke in it which I can add to my Eric/Albrecht ship manifesto.
Eric opens a portal to hell.
From hell emerges a man with electricity superpowers who kidnaps a bunch of people.
Eric jumps off a high balcony and spins round and round to defeat the electricity guy.
He also does a front flip off some stairs while casually maintaining a conversation, as touched upon earlier.
There's a multi-episode courtroom drama storyline wherein Eric is on trial for Shelly's murder.
Oh yeah people just straight-up know he’s alive. He works as a bouncer in the bar his band used to play at. Darla works at the police station and attends Alcoholics Anonymous but then struggles with relapse as a whole storyline.
Albrecht gets a new partner whose struggles with PTSD are a whole storyline. Albrecht's also in the most complicated on-again off-again relationship with a District Attorney of all time. This one bullet point is him covered - he otherwise doesn’t have a lot going on aside from that one time he gets kidnapped and taken to an island and Eric has to save him in a comedically tiny boat.
Eric's murder trial is very funny to me: firstly, it’s a clip show, 12 episodes into the season. Secondly, a lot of the defence is resting on how the prosecution is discriminating against Eric for being a goth. A quotation from Eric's attorney: "He’s not on trial for being different, he’s on trial for murder!"
Eric's described as "different" a lot. He also describes himself as such when prompted, such as in this exchange:
WHOEVER SAID THIS LINE: Why do you look like that?
ERIC: Because I’m different.
Anyway the trial gets really boring but Eric has a cute ponytail and just looks soooo dapper in his little suit; I want to make him a nice sandwich for his packed lunch and pat him on the head as I send him on his way.
He’s pronounced guilty and then in the next episode immediately pronounced innocent. Spoilers.
There is a time loop episode during which Eric is forced to say the words "pretty please with sugar on top."
There is a plot to resurrect Rasputin. Rasputin's corpse is burned in a fire and his ghost appears superimposed upon the air.
Eric does a backflip towards the Rasputin corpse fire.
This is in hell. The guy resurrecting Rasputin needs to open specifically Eric's hell portal from the electricity superpowers episode.
In a completely different fire, Eric burns a valuable Russian manuscript which is entrusted to him.
Eric makes Albrecht hold some seaweed. I dunno, it made me laugh.
There is a secret organisation who have members in very significant positions in society and they have figured out how to separate a person's soul from their body and transplant it into a different body. One of them inspects Eric's abs for what felt to me like an extremely long time.
There’s a woman resurrected by a different crow and she cries black goo so I really hope Eric can cry black goo as well and that’s just a canonical thing about the undead.
In episode 18, the background music is diegetic but only for Eric, and it turns him evil.
Episode 18 prominently features Canadian rock band Econoline Crush, who perform two songs from their 1997 album The Devil You Know, including All That You Are, the song they sued Nickelback for ripping off to make the 2003 single Figured You Out. Eric is determined to win against them in the battle of the bands.
The rest of the series cameos a veritable smorgasbord of Canadian rock bands, but I didn’t recognise any of their songs by name and nobody says the names of the other bands out loud as many times as they said Econoline Crush so I guess they weren’t paid as much.
Female Crow - her name is Talon - has cool eye makeup that I like a lot. I don’t know what else to say about her that doesn’t sound misogynistic on my part, because the writers writing her are misogynistic.
There’s an episode where pretty much all Eric does is walk through the forest and hallucinate a dance sequence from one of his past lives.
The Crow in this series' continuity is Eric's alter, kind of. It has a separate soul, as evidenced by the fact that it remains in his body when his soul is put into the computer by the secret organisation's evil scientists who are pretending to be Shelly.
I guess I’ve been a bit rude referring to what it does as what Eric's doing this whole time but there’s no clear delineation between the two personality-wise and I could not tell you which moments are supposed to be the alter because I did not know it was a thing until episode 21 of 22, sorry.
Also the Crow makeup just manifests on Eric's face supernaturally. Sometimes it just turns round and has done a transformation sequence.
So the secret organisation kidnap the crow (the magical bird) and use its blood to do a ritual on Eric's grave and resurrect the Crow (the alter) in a separate body from Eric's so that it can fight him.
Eric is offered "steaming hot wieners." He nibbles one with care.
The Crow draws on a wall in blood, just like my favourite moment in the original comic (sadly not the Cat in the Hat though. That would have truly made this whole thing worth it).
A guy has transferred his consciousness into the body of his personal trainer, played by Michael Weatherly, who after 13 seasons of NCIS I didn’t enjoy looking at.
When the two bodies indirectly touch through Shelly's corporeal form, they merge into one in a golden fizzle of regeneration energy.
There's more after that but it ends on a cliffhanger.
#goth stuff#the crow#the crow: stairway to heaven#ending the post on a cliffhanger just like how suddenly the series ends…#also I’m so sorry#i know at least 3 people explicitly want to read this and I’d just send it to them but a link is simpler so I guess that’s what we're doing#upon this fine morn#long post#also while this post is long I must state that this list is not exhaustive; neither is it indicative#it’s a pretty ordinary tv show that is just very into its 90s 'issues episodes'
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can you do a one shot where we’re with wanda and nat but thor brings valkyrie down to the compound for the first time and we get super flustered and stuttery whenever she talks and flirts with us because cmon we all know valkyrie is a big flirt😩😩🤲🏼 then having wanda and nat are amused but also jealous by our little crush on valkyrie
New Crush?
Pairing: Natasha x Wanda x Reader
Warning: Language, fluff, angst :3
Summary: What happens if you develop a crush on someone else than your girlfriends; Wanda and Natasha.
Word count: 3.7k
My requests are always open so feel more than welcome to pop in a suggestion for the next story :3
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Having queer teammates will never be enough, you were first open queer person on the team which was something everyone liked about you, though you were open about your sexuality, you were pretty shit at flirting and that was pretty obvious.
Before Wanda and Natasha, you tried your luck at flirting with women as practice but it failed so horribly when you received a hard slap across your face and then you owned Bucky 20 bucks.
So when you said you sucked, you really sucked. You were beyond happy that the two redheads asked you out first because you would be still single if it was up to you to make a move.
The two women were very possessive over you in the teams eyes, you didn't really mind because you knew the reason behind it, but most of the team was a little worried about you and them.
Whenever there was a party that Tony organised, there were a lot of 'threats', well that was only according to Wanda and Natasha, they disliked how everyone practically drooled over you.
Natasha would be the one who would threaten any man or woman approaching you and Wanda would use her powers to 'gently' move away anyone who gotten too close to you.
The only reason they really became this protective was because of your fear of saying no, there was always something in you that just wanted to say yes to everyone when in reality you wanted to say no.
If someone offered you a drink, you said yes to which you nearly got drugged and god knows what would've happened if Steve didn't save you.
So when you became really close with Wanda and Natasha, you opened up to them and they decided that they will now keep an eye out for you at parties and people around you.
Of course the team didn't know anything about this because you were pretty ashamed of this fear, you didn't want to get laughed at, even if Natasha threatened to punch anyone who would, to which she earned a giggle from you.
You really loved these two women but you were a human being, meaning you might have a crush on other people, to which the two girls were not happy with.
The team was pretty shocked by how they reacted because usually they would be throwing threats left and right at anyone but when Thor brought down Valkyrie they just stared from afar as they observed with death stares..
This had the team very curious to their behaviour so whenever you was around Valkyrie they just observed you and the two women. There was this time where the team almost died of shock...
There was an urgent meeting in the early morning whilst you wanted to sleep, you were forced to get out of the bed to attend this meeting, you were informed by F.R.I.D.A.Y. 5 times already that the meeting is going to start soon.
But the urge to get out of bed was really little, since there was no sign of you anywhere, the redheads where sent to get you before you missed any important information.
Wanda used her powers to unlock your door whilst Natasha barged inside with a sly smile across her lips. She plopped herself on you as you groaned at the extra weight on you.
"Sleepp!" Your raspy voice made itself out of your throat as you sounded like you were a zombie.
Wanda did the opposite of Natasha, she laid next to you as she moved your hair out of your face and just smiled at your relaxed face "You have to get up my love"
You opened one eye to look at her and smiled at the nickname "Say it again"
"Say what again" She repeated herself, she knew what she was doing, she just wanted to keep you awake.
"My love" Even if you were half asleep, the blush across your face was visible.
"My love.." Wanda said it with so much love in her voice which made your heart skip a beat.
"Hello! I am here as well don't forget about me" Natasha made herself known.
You looked at her "Oh I know, I wouldn't forget the weight of a whale on me"
She raised her brows at you, as her mouth opened wide taking offence to your words whilst Wanda giggled "When did you pick up this attitude котенок (kitten)"
"From spending too much time with you" Wanda added as she looked at Natasha with a huge smile.
The redhead rolled her eyes at the both of you as she leaned down to your ear "Call me a whale again and you'll see the punishment that comes with"
You nodded quickly to which she smirked and got off you "If you're not down in 10 minutes and we have to come back again, I wont be so nice котенок (kitten)"
Wanda quickly placed a soft kiss on your cheek and giggled out of the room along with Natasha, leaving you alone again, you really wanted to go back to sleep but you didn't want the Russian to literally drag you out.
You got out and got ready as quick as you could, making your way out of the room and where the meeting was being held, you ended up quick far away from your girlfriends than you would like to but you could only blame yourself for not getting up earlier.
Everyone looks your way which makes you panic a little so you turn around and there was Thor with some girl, she was gorgeous from head to toe, and she noticed you as well.
They both made their way towards the group to which she stood next to you, Thor started his speech to which you tried to listen to but she spoke up.
"What's your name sweetheart" She slightly turned her face to look at you.
A blush was already there on your face when you looked into her eyes "Uh.. Y-y/n"
There was a slight smirk across her face, as she looked away a little and then back at you "Nice to meet you Y/n, I'm Valkyrie but you can call me Val"
You smiled shyly at her and looked at the floor briefly as you nodded, she spoke up again when you didn't reply "Are you doing anything after this?"
You shook your head, your eyes finding hers within seconds, she smiled widely "Could you maybe give me a proper tour?"
It took a second to realise what she just asked, you didn't even think about looking over at your girlfriends, you just nodded "S-sure I wouldn't mind"
Valkyrie bit her bottom lip "Well Thank you princess"
You giggled very awkwardly which didn't go unnoticed by the whole team or the two redheads "Heh- You don't have to thank me"
Valkyrie reached over to your hand as she grabbed it gently and placed a light kiss on your hand "None sense, pretty women like you deserve the world"
Your checks turning a more red colour as you watch her kiss your head, it felt like your brain stopped working and you just nodded at her because words will betray you if you speak.
Steve ended the meeting soon after and before Natasha or Wanda could make their way to you, you were being dragged away by Valkyrie.
Suddenly all of the teams heads turned towards the two redheads as if to expect a reaction, they looked at each other and then back at the team.
Natasha narrowed her eyes "What?"
They all shrugged and mumbled stuff under their noses, slowly scattering all over the place to avoid the black widows stare, shocking each and every one of them to core with their lack of reaction.
This has happened a lot, Valkyrie being all over you and you being okay with it, after that first day, many followed and you were practically all the time busy with her.
She took most of your time which Wanda didn't like, Natasha was more amused by your sudden confidence, usually you would be a mess when it came to choices.
But when you were with her you tried your best to show off as confident which failed so badly, you were a mess around her which only annoyed Wanda more.
She wanted to confront you about it but Natasha kept discouraging her, she trusted you but Wanda started to question it at some point in this whole situation.
"Natasha we can't just stand by and watch as she slowly takes our Y/n away!" Wanda paced around the room.
Natasha was on her phone during Wanda rant, she has been through this with her many times but with each issue raised by Wanda, she slowly started to believe her.
"Mhm" Natasha agreed, not paying attention to what Wanda was saying.
"Would you listen to me!" She raised her voice and soon Natasha's phone went flying across the room.
"Hey! I was reading something" Natasha stood up from the bed as she walked over to Wanda.
"I am talking to you Nat, it's really important" Wanda's voice turned soft as Natasha walked closer.
"I was listening, I understand what you're feeling but you shouldn't question Y/n's trust, you know Y/n would never do something like that" Natasha crossed her arms as she started to explain.
Wanda nodded "I know and I'm not questioning her trust, I just don't like how she talks all about Valkyrie, it's like we are her friends rather than girlfriends"
The Russian looked down for a brief moment and Wanda continued "She doesn't swoon over us anymore, she gets all flustered and all nervous like she was with us at first but now it's nothing"
Natasha shook her head "Okay, that's not true"
"But it is, I haven't seen it at all lately" Now Wanda crossed her arms.
"I'm sure it's not true" Now Natasha tried to sound convincing but something in her was saying that Wanda was right.
"Then prove me wrong" Wanda raised her eyebrow at Natasha "Please..." there was a hint of pain in the plead that came from Wanda.
"Okay, I will show you she still is ours Wands" Natasha had a sad smile across her lips as she pulled Wanda into her.
She kissed the top of Wanda's head as she rubbed her hand down the smaller redheads back, to which you witnessed as you walked inside the room.
Your heart nearly burst at the sight of them being so cute, you wanted to join them but Val was waiting for you along with some teammates, you guys were watching a movie.
"Aww, if we weren't a couple, I would totally ship the two of you together" You spoke up as you stared at them with love in your eyes.
Their heads snapped towards your voice, they pulled away to which you spoke up again "Aww noo, I didn't want to disturb yous"
"You never disturb us котенок (kitten)" Natasha voice made itself known rather quickly, the butterflies in your stomach always been there just by looking at the two women so imagine what their voices did to you.
You nodded with a smile at them as you walked over to take your favourite pillow when you watched movies, Wanda's eyes followed you as she asked "What is it that you are doing my love?"
You looked up at her with a small smile "Me and some of the team are watching a movie so I wanted to get my pillow.."
Wanda nodded "You didn't invite us..?"
Here came the tension, whenever Wanda didn't like something and made her jealousy known, you would always just ignore her for the rest of the day, she always treated you like you weren't allowed to hang out with her around.
You knew it was only because she was scared that if she wasn't there and something happened to you she would blame herself but you had protection, not only the team but Valkyrie.
"Well, I wasn't sure whether yous wanted to, Val will be there and I know that you don't exactly like her, for whatever reason that is" You stood up with your pillow in hand.
"I have a perfect reason Y/n!" Wanda slightly raised her voice.
Natasha sighed "Okay, come on we don't need to fight about this.."
"I'm not fighting, I just don't understand why Val is hated so much by Wanda" You looked at Natasha as you spoke up.
The Sokovian huffed in irritation "She is all over you моя любовь (My love) and you're not doing anything about it. You spend more time with her than us combined"
You rolled your eyes, not really thinking through what she was saying "When you stop being jealous then we can have this conversation Wanda"
"I have enough of this" Wanda threw her hands in the air.
You rolled your eyes again as you walked of the room, this time not saying anything and walked on to the living room where everyone was waiting for you.
The whole movie you couldn't really concentrate, your mind was filled with Wanda and how this whole disagreement went, you love her so much and you would be damned if you lost her but she didn't have to be so rude to you.
But at the same time you weren't the best either, you were just as bitter as she was, you wanted to fix this but maybe not tonight, she needs to calm down and you just wanted to think before going into this conversation.
Valkyrie noticed your absent from the movie, she kept looking over at you, and as soon as the movie finished, you stood up as you made your way to the kitchen to grab something to eat.
Natasha followed you into the kitchen as she smirked, Wanda wasn't far from the kitchen to see how this would play out, she was standing with Vision, Bucky and Steve.
There was always something about Natasha that just screamed top energy but when she really wanted to she was the most softest person you could meet.
She slowly made her way towards you with a small smile across her lips as she hugged you gently from behind, placing her hands where you always relaxed into her "I hate it when you're sad детка (baby)"
You leaned into her hug with your back against her front "I'm more disappointed than sad Talia"
She placed a soft kiss on your neck as she spoke again "have I told you, you're the most beautiful woman alive?"
You chuckled slightly as you nodded "Yeah you did but you always said that to Wanda many times"
Natasha smiled against your neck "Well because the two of you rock my world"
Natasha's compliments always had you stuttering and flustered but with time you have gotten used to those love filled compliments even if they still make your heart skip a beat.
"How about we take a wine bottle up to the roof and just talk about everything?" Natasha spoke when silence slowly settled.
You moved out of the hug as you faced her, with a sad smile "Not tonight"
You placed a gentle kiss on her cheek as you walked out with a tin of cookies, you looked up at Wanda who looked like she was ready to approach you but you just continued on.
Valkyrie observed the scene that unfolded and as soon as you walked away, she followed you. Wanda didn't want to cause more trouble than it already has happened so she let Valkyrie follow you even if she wanted to literally lock her in some closet.
You sat on the roof with your cookies and some drink that you managed to grab from the party room, you looked out into the city and how each of the lights made it look so much prettier.
Valkyrie observed you for some time before making her way to sit next to you "Pretty women like you should never be left alone"
You looked up at Val as you smiled at her words, you were debating if opening your mouth was a good idea so instead she spoke up again "So tell me pretty woman what's bothering you"
You looked away from her because if you were going to speak up, you didn't want to stutter "I had a fight with Wanda.."
Val nodded "Your other girlfriend?"
You nodded as you continued "Her jealousy is really tiring"
"How so" She asked as she turned her whole body towards you.
"Her constant doubt makes me go crazy, I just really want her to trust me and my choices in life, she's not even acting like a girlfriend but a mother or some shit" You explained as you looked down at your hands.
Valkyrie moved closer to you as her fingers found your chin, making you look at her "Y/n you deserve someone who will never doubt their love for you, it makes my heart break just seeing you so sad"
You swallowed hardly as you stared into her eyes, even if you told Valkyrie many times that you were taken, she still tried her best to make you fall for her, it would work if you weren't so in love with the two dorky redheads.
"She doesn't doubt in the love between us-" You tried to speak up but Val only put her finger on your lips to shush you.
"I would never spend a second in my life doubting my love for you, you are the most smartest, funniest and nerdy woman I have ever met and I wish you would look at me the same way you look at them"
You started to feel the blush appear on your face, you smiled at her "I don't doubt but they have my heart Val, I have already told you that"
She dropped her hand from your chin as she nodded "I know, You will always have my heart Y/n if that's something you would want"
You smiled at her being so understanding and gentle with this "You're an amazing friend Val and I'm sure that one day you'll find someone who will want you right away instead of making you wait for something that might not happen"
She smiled at your words as she placed her hand on top of yours "You should talk to her before things get worse and you lose her forever"
"I will but at the moment I want to finish my drink and sit here for couple more hours before going back to that issue"
She nodded as she was ready to get up but you stopped her "W-would you stay with me for now? I don't want to be alone"
She nodded with no hesitation as she let you place your head on her shoulder, as the both of you looked out into the city, admiring the view and enjoying this quiet moment.
After couple hours, you finally had enough energy and courage to speak to Wanda, you walked inside the shared room where Natasha was laying down with her laptop on her lap and Wanda with a book.
You sighed as you cleared your throat, making yourself known to the two redheads, they both looked up at you at the same time, you walked over to Wanda's side as you sat on the edge.
Even though you smelt like cookies and some alcohol, you felt like you had enough courage to finally speak out "Can we talk?"
Wanda stared at you for a moment "You're drunk"
You shook your head "No, I just had one glass but I want to talk because I don't want to go bed with this issue unsolved"
Wanda wanted to refuse but Natasha agreed for her, especially since she knew there wouldn't be another opportunity to solve this "Yes we can talk and solve this"
"You were right Wands, I don't spend time with yous anymore and I hate myself for leaving yous behind like that"
Wanda looked at you as you spoke "That's not the issue here Y/n/n, you can have friends and spend crazy amounts of time with them but at least be honest with us"
You looked at her confused "Honest about what?"
"That you no longer love us, we at least deserve this" She looked into your eyes with pain.
You shook your head as you took her hand into yours "I never stopped loving yous"
Natasha smiled at your words as she knew she was right, Wanda questioned once again "So why is she all over you Y/n/n?"
"She knows yous have my heart and every second of my attention, I could never fall for anyone else apart from yous, she likes me but I don't feel anything towards her"
Natasha raised her brows "So she doesn't take hint? Do you want me to tell her something so she can back off?"
You giggled at her "No baby, I can manage with her you don't need to threat anyone"
"I'm sorry my love, I never doubted in you but I was just scared that I would lose you, you and the redhead over here are my whole world I'm really sorry for how I behaved" Wanda's grip on your hand tightened.
You smiled as Natasha frowned "What do you mean redhead over here? For you I am Солнечный свет (sunshine)"
You and Wanda looked over at Natasha as you giggled at her being offended, Wanda nodded as she placed a light kiss on Nats cheek to which she smiled proudly.
You stared at them with so much love in your eyes "I am completely in love with the pair of you"
It has taken back the redheads as now they tried to form words, their butterflies being so strong that now you giggled "Now yous have the nervous, this is a first"
Natasha chuckled "we are in love with you just as much Y/n/n"
You smiled as you squeezed yourself in between the two girls as they showered you in kisses, for the first time in a while, you felt like life was getting better within seconds and finally being able to feel like you are on top of the world with the two most important women.
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what’s mine is mine
Pairing: Touya Todoroki x Sister!Reader
Tags/Warnings: tw incest, tw breeding kink, scumbag squad, drugs and drinking, possessive behavior
Word count: 5.7k
A/N: This is in response to a big brained nonny! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to it!
“Touya-nii, do you want some- oh. Sorry, nii-san, I didn’t know you had guests over...”
Touya lifts his head from his phone to find you standing in the doorway- a curious tilt to your head and hands clasped behind your back. On the couch across from him, his shitty friends are looking at you- just as curious but with a look in their eyes that he doesn’t appreciate.
There’s a reason he doesn’t have them over when you’re home.
“Woah, Todoroki- who is this? Don’t tell me that’s your little sister. Where’ve ya been hiding her?”
Touya huffs as Keigo grins and you flush- teeth digging into your bottom lip, eyes lowering to the floor under the attention, a tiny smile threatening to form that Touya is very unhappy to see.
“C’mere, little birdy, let us see ya. Come say hi.”
The scowl that breaks across Touya’s face only makes Keigo smirk. Your eyes dart to Touya- seeking his approval, your face flustered- and Touya huffs again, rolls his eyes whenever Jin raises a brow toward him.
At least Tenko’s already gone back to playing his game- head bowed and bloodshot eyes only flicking toward you whenever Touya waves you over to him and you hesitantly enter the room.
He doesn’t like the way three sets of eyes run over your legs and he really doesn’t like the way Keigo’s smirk grows whenever his own eyes narrow.
Fuckin’ bastard. He’s nothing but scum.
Touya grabs your wrist as soon as you’re close enough to him to do so and he yanks you down onto his lap, ignores the squeak that leaves you whenever he wraps his arms around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder, rests a hand on your thighs.
“Asshole friends, this is my little sister. Sis, these are my asshole friends.”
“Yo.”
“Hey.”
“...mmm.”
“H-Hi...”
Keigo coos at your shy voice and Jin smiles a little- expression hazy from all the weed he’s smoked. Tenko glances at you- pointedly at your legs, between them- and Touya scowls, squeezes your thighs and pulls you even closer against him.
“Hey, baby, why don’t you come over here with us? If you want a lap to sit on, you can always use mine or Jin’s.”
“What about mine?”
“No one wants to sit on yours, weeb.”
“You can sit on mine,” Jin mumbles, barely audible over Tenko and Keigo’s squabbling. “I don’t mind.”
Your head moves with a shake and your fingers curl into your skirt- cheeks flaring as you press back against Touya. Something relaxes in his chest with that and he hugs you a little closer, smothers the impulse to lay his lips to your neck.
“N-No, thank you,” you mumble to Jin- so polite, so shy, so very good with your refusal.
“Didn’t want you to anyway.”
Touya snorts at that, just shakes his head when you look back at him in confusion.
Out of all of them, Jin’s probably the least likely threat. Tenko would be if he didn’t have a habit of staring and sneaking photos of any and every girl he can- he wouldn’t ever actually try anything on you, but Touya doesn’t want upskirt photos of his lil sis on that perv’s phone.
Keigo’s the worst by and far. And Touya will be damned if he lets his little sister get anywhere near that jackass with his sickly sweet charm, shit eating grins, and groping hands.
No way- you’re his.
“Nii-san,” you whisper, looking back at him with your cute little flushed cheeks and shy eyes. “Nii-san, I just came down to ask if you wanted some dinner. Natsuo-nii said he’d pick up some take-out...”
Natsuo? What the fuck are you doing hanging around Natsuo? That little shit should be on some cheesy date with his squeaky mouse of a girlfriend instead of trying to weasel in some time with you.
Touya doesn’t know which he hates more- the thought of his sleazy friends trying to flirt with you or the thought of you hanging out with your older brother, his younger brother.
When he only scowls in response, your face falls. You turn on his lap until you’re sat facing him- fingers curling into his shirt and brow furrowed, your bottom lip jutting out into one of those cute pouts of yours that you like to wear when you’re worried about him.
Over your shoulder, Touya can see Jin’s confusion and Tenko’s cocked brow, Keigo’s narrowed eyes. He flashes them a sneer that you can’t see and settles his hands on your hips, looks back down at you to see what’s got you bothered enough to forget your shyness.
“Onii-chan,” you start- voice tilting with a soft whine, something almost lecturing creeping through the words. “Nii-san, Natsuo-nii was just being nice. And you need to eat.”
Your hands run down his chest and your expression grows softer as you look up at him through your lashes, your voice gets quieter as you whisper to him,
“I worry about you, nii-san. You’re so skinny...”
The tips of your fingers press into the spaces between his ribs and Touya sighs as concern fills your eyes, ignores the stares of his friends from across the room.
“Fine, whatever,” he grumbles. “Get something for me and put it in the fridge. I’ll eat it later.”
“You promise?”
A huff leaves him and you pout whenever he rolls his eyes, but a nod of his head gets your lips quirking up with a pleased little smile all the same.
“I’ll get you some low mein,” you chirp, hands smoothing down his chest. “And I’ll have Natsuo-nii get you some beer too!”
“Aw, ain’t she just the sweetest.”
Keigo’s croon has you blushing and Touya huffs again once your head ducks- lips twitching with irritation as you squirm on his lap and the blonde across the room bares his teeth at him in a grin.
Fuckin’ dick.
“I, um, I- I should go tell Natsuo-nii,” you mumble, cheeks still flared up and voice dipping shy again. Touya just grunts and he squeezes your hips before giving one a little smack.
A press of soft lips to his cheek and then you’re off- Keigo, Jin, and Tenko all watching as you hurry out of the room and out of sight.
As soon as you’re gone, they look to him and Touya’s eyes narrow when a low whistle sounds from Keigo.
“Shit, Todoroki, and here I thought your whole family was just a bunch of dogs.”
“Oh fuck off,” Touya snaps, reaching for the blunt wraps with a scowl. “Don’t get any fuckin’ ideas, birdbrain.”
“Ideas?” Keigo laughs- grin still in place, turning sleazy. “Now why would I have any ideas about your cute lil sis and her cute lil tits.”
“I said fuck off.”
“She is pretty cute,” Jin mumbles, fingers scratching along his chest and lips holding a dazed smile that only has Touya scowling darker. “Like her ass...”
“Bet she cums like an ahego whore,” Tenko throws out without even looking up from his stupid fucking game. “Looks like a dumb slut.”
“Think the weeb’s right,” Keigo sneers. “Hey- she got a boyfriend, Todoroki?”
“I don’t know- you got a black eye?”
“Aw, cute- he’s protective.”
“Virgin then,” Tenko pipes up. “Bet she’d cream herself if she got kissed.”
A growl rips from Touya and the three bark out some laughs- Keigo and Tenko smirking while Jin’s dumb little smile grows.
He’s gonna fucking kill these assholes.
He knew they’d be nothing but scum when it came to you- he should’ve made sure you’d be out of the house before he let these three dicks come over for a smoke sesh.
Touya scowls and his friends keep up- slinging lewd comments and jeers as he smokes and stews.
◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾
Two in the morning and Touya’s buzzed.
Buzzed and fucking pissed.
Those assholes didn’t let up all night. Every other sentence out of Keigo’s mouth was about fucking you, getting you on your knees, making you drunk and stupid so he could wreck your ass. Tenko kept comparing you to characters from his ero games and Jin kept mumbling how he wanted you to sit on his dick, warm his cock while he smokes.
Jin was bareable, kind of. But Tenko and Keigo?
It’s a goddamn miracle he didn’t break their faces.
Touya scowls as he watches his so called friends head out and narrows his eyes at one last jeer of “kiss your sis good night for me” tossed out ny Keigo.
Those fuckers need to learn some manners. Those fuckers need to learn who you belong too.
Scowl deepening, Touya heads toward your room- feet stumbling and teeth gritting.
You’re asleep when he barges in- face peaceful, blanket twined between your legs, fingers curled into the sheets. He looks over you for a second, runs his eyes over bared thighs and cotton panties, and then he walks toward the bed, climbs onto it.
As soon as the mattress dips, your lashes flutter open and you stir with a sigh. You don’t do more than give a sleepy blink when he brackets himself over you, offer him a fuzzy, drowsy smile.
“Touya-nii...? What...what time is it?”
“Two.”
A hum and a yawn, another sleepy little blink. You’re cute like this and usually Touya would just crash beside you, but he’s got other plans right now- stupid, drunk, dumb plans but plans all the same.
“Hey- hey, don’t go back to sleep.”
There’s a huff from you, a furrowing of your brows. But you obey him as you always do; you sit up with another yawn and rub at your eye with a loose fist, let him tug the covers off of you without a fuss.
“Nii-san...nii-san, what is it?”
Touya ignores you and he grabs onto your still sleepy face, pulls you closer until he can kiss you, make you whine and moan. You jerk, just a bit, at the way he bites into your bottom lip and then you’re melting into his touch, looking up at him through half-shut eyes whenever he breaks the kiss and runs his drunken gaze over your flushed face.
“Nii-san...?”
Touya grunts and thumbs away a dribble of spit from the corner of your lips, ignores the quiet confusion written all over your face. You press into his touch and he watches you blink, reaches over to flick on the lamp without looking. He almost knocks it over but he ignores that, too, and kisses you again- not caring if you’re blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden light or if you’re still thrown a little off kilter by his mood and his lingering scowl.
This kiss is rougher- his fingers snarling into your hair and his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, his grip tightening on your head. You whimper with it and Touya growls, doesn’t pull back until he feels you tremble and shake. Your lips part with a question, quivering and plumped up from his bites, and Touya huffs before it can sound, grits out his own.
“You love me, right?”
Your eyes snap open, you breathe in sharp and fast- bewilderment all over your face and any lingering traces of sleep evaporated in an instant. Your hands fly to his face and his lips twitch at the touch, he presses into it even if it’s a fucking weak little move.
“Touya-nii, of course I love you! I love you with all my heart!”
Sweet, a little hurt, absolutely sincere- you say it with wide eyes and so much concern that it makes him want to scowl even deeper, punch himself for being so stupid to even ask.
Of course you love him- he’s your nii-san after all.
Touya huffs and his shoulders relax a little, his tongue darts out to wet his lips as your brows scrunch together in worry.
You’re a good little sister. He doesn’t have anything to worry about- never will.
But fuck he’s still pissed.
“I wanna do something,” he half-growls out. “You’ll be good for me, yeah?”
A flush, a squirm. You nod, though- brows still furrowed and eyes scanning his face in search for some answer to your confusion.
“Of course, nii-san,” you whisper. “I- of course. What-”
“Take your clothes off. All of ‘em.”
A soft noise slips from you and you breathe in shakily, but there’s no hesitance in the way your hands rise to tug off your shirt.
Touya watches for a moment and then he gets up from the bed, walks over to the door and closes it, locks it.
You’re naked by the time he comes back- flushed but not embarrassed, bruises littered everywhere your clothes can hide them. Touya eyes the bruises, those marks he’s put all over his dear, sweet little sister, and his lashes lower, something hungry and greedy starts to grow inside of him.
You’ve never belonged to anyone but him.
He touches your cheek- soft in the moment, rough edges hazed over by your adoration. A tap to it has your lashes fluttering, a press of his thumb to your lips has you shuddering.
“We’re gonna make a lil movie,” he rumbles out. You startle, eyes flying wide open once again, but you don’t protest or tell him no even if unease has your fingers curling tight into the sheets.
You never tell him no.
“I...okay, nii-san...”
The compliance has him humming- thumb dipping past your parted lips so he can press it down against your wet tongue.
It’s sweet how you agree, satisfying- more satisfying then the beer he threw back all throughout the night and the weed he smoked away.
A lick to his lips and Touya pulls away, starts to strip away his clothes- hands fumbling, clumsy as he tries to undo buttons and zippers. You watch him silently- cheeks heating up and thighs pressing together- and your teeth find your bottom lip when he starts to tug down his boxers, when his cock springs free.
“Turn around,” he orders. “Get on your knees, put that fucking pretty face against the bed and raise that ass up for me.”
Shivering, you obey- a mewl slipping from you as you do.
Touya grabs his phone from his pants and he kneels by the bed, pulls up the camera and hits record.
You’re wet and it’s easy to see even in the lowlight, even on the shitty phone screen. When he grabs onto your ass with his free hand and spreads your cheek, your hole clenches- tightens and spreads and makes him smirk.
“So fucking wet for me,” he half-sneers, a laugh sounding through the words. “Look at this pretty lil cunt all soaked and eager.”
“T- Touya...”
He huffs at your little whimper of a whine and brings the phone even close, records the way your hips twitch and your cunt sucks in his thumb when he presses against it.
“So fuckin’ wet and warm. So tight,” he hisses. “All for me, baby- right?”
“Y- yes. It’s all- all for you!”
Touya snorts and he slips his thumb out so he can spread your pussy open again, presses his palm against it and then lays a wet smack to your ass that has you yipping, arching your hips even closer to him.
“You ever been with anyone but me?”
The sheets rustle as you shake your head and Touya grips your ass tight, digs his fingers in deep and makes you squirm, whine. When there’s no verbal answer, he spanks you again in warning and you whine even louder, press your thighs tight together.
“N- no! Just you! Just Touya!”
“You want anyone else?”
“No! Never!”
Touya grins and the restless anger in him quells, just a little, at your mewled loyalty.
A fucking good little sister indeed.
Touya aims the camera at the red blooming across your ass and then he stands, moves it over to capture your arched back. He runs his hand over your side and you shiver a little, press your hips back against him until his cock nudges at your soaked cunt.
“You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?” he half taunts- the words coming out sickly sweet, rough around the edges.
“Please!”
Your moan is even sweeter than his question- hips bucking back against his cock, fingers fisting the sheets tight in your hold.
“Think you can do better than that,” he huffs, leaning over until he can tangle his fingers into your hair. “Tell me how bad ya want it.”
A whine sounds- pathetic and flustered, pitching up sharp as he yanks your head up from the bed. The tiniest sob slips from you as he forces your head back and you stare up into the camera- cheeks flushed, eyes glittering, an undeniable need flourishing across your your face.
“Please, nii-san,” you beg, nearly breathless and so fucking sweet. “Please I want- I want you to fuck me! I want- want your cock!”
“Only mine?”
Another whine and you nod, whimper as your hair gets tugged and pulled by the movement.
“Only Touya-nii’s!”
“Good girl.”
A gasp from you and a cute little mewl- the praise has you flushing darker and a tremble wracking through your body, your lashes fluttering and falling half-shut.
“Nii-san, please...”
Touya grunts and the camera shakes in his hand for a moment before he steadies himself. He rocks against you, has you whimpering, and then he grips his cock, lets you bury your face back into the sheets as he starts to push his way into your eager little cunt.
You clench around him, so fucking eager as always, and Touya groans at that, lowers his phone to show off the way his cock slides into your plush little pussy with ease.
“So fucking wet, baby,” he praises- taunts- in a growl. “Ain’t never had a cunt like yours. So fucking tight and sweet. You were made to take my dick, weren’t cha?”
A shuddering moan wracks through you- body trembling and cunt clenching around his cock so tight it makes Touya hiss and claw his nails into your hips. You whimper at the sting and he doesn’t have to see your face to know you’ve got tears in your eyes, doesn’t have to hear any mewl or whine to know that you love it.
“I- I was made- was made- oh, nii-san!”
Touya snorts at your moan, tilts his head back with a groan as he sinks even deeper into your silken, squeezing little cunt.
“Throw those fucking hips back,” he snarls, orders. “Fuck yourself on me.”
A mewl and you do just as he says- rocking your hips back like the obedient girl you are and whining as his piercings drag along the throbbing walls of your pussy. Touya rolls his head back forward so he can watch and he angles the camera so he can capture the way the soft flesh of ass jiggles each time it meets his pelvis.
“So fuckin’ good,” he mumbles. “Takin’ it so well- best fuckin’ pussy around. No one fucks like my lil sis.”
It’s more to the camera- to the future audience- but you still whimper and grind against him, drags your nails over the sheets with a soft little whine.
“Nii-san- Touya-nii, please!”
“What? You gonna come already?”
“Please!”
Touya huffs and he lays a spank to your ass, drags out a moan and has your hips stuttering against him.
“Come on nii-san’s cock then. Come nice and pretty like a good girl.”
A whimper and then you’re trembling, whining as your cunt clenches and flutters around his cock. His teeth grit with the squeeze of your cumming pussy and Touya has to dig his nails back into your hip so he doesn’t moan- lips pulling into a growling snarl as he tries not to cum with you.
“Nii-san! Nii-san!”
He lets you moan and writhe and mewl until you limp beneath him and then he leans over you, presses his chest flat against your back and curls his fingers into your hair, jerks your head to the side and shoves the phone in your face.
He wants them to see your flushed face and muddied eyes. He wants them to see your fucked out face and fluttering lashes. He wants them to see your face as he cums inside of you, as you cum on his cock again.
Touya fucks into you- movement shallow, his cock still driving in so fucking deep- and you moan, shudder whenever his teeth scrape over your shoulder.
“You like nii-san’s cock fuckin’ deep inside you?”
“Oh- oh, yes! Love it nii-san!”
It comes out whiny- so fucking needy. Touya grunts when your cunt pulses around him and he fucks into you rough, makes you mewl out his name.
“Nii-san’s gonna fuckin’ fill ya,” he snarls. “Fill your tight lil cunt. Gonna fuckin’ breed ya! Breed my sweet lil sis- fuckin’ shit- gonna cream that cunt!”
“Please! Please! Touya- nii please!”
You beg so fucking sweet. Touya snarls and he fucks into you rough, pulls your hair tight as he shoots his cum deep into your needy little pussy, fills you to the goddamn brim with his seed. You cum, again, with him and you moan as you do- so loud and cute.
Whimpers rip from you as he humps his cum deep inside you and you shudder when he grinds into your cunt, coo dreamily whenever he lays a kiss to your flushed cheek.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs.
A mewl as you nod drowsily and Touya snorts at your sleepy smile, turns the camera to his face and sneers before ending the recording.
He drops it in the groupchat before he slides out of you and sits back on his knees. You nuzzle into the covers as he runs his hand through his hair and Touya huffs, snorts as you yawn.
“C’mon,” he tells you- maybe quietly fond in a way he’ll never admit-, “let’s crash.”
You hum and you nod and Touya lets you shuffle under the covers, follows after you and pulls you close.
He clicks off the lamp and the two of you drift off to sleep- satisfaction filling Touya as his phone goes off and a happy smile on your face.
◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾
Tenko is the first to watch the video.
He gets the notification in the middle of crushing up some pills. His first instinct is to just ignore it, but impulse has him reaching for the phone, has his thumb clicking the play button before he can really think about it.
His brow arches, but he’s not too surprised by the smut dropped into the chat- between Keigo and Touya it happens on the weekly and he’s more than used to it.
He could use new fap material, anyway.
Tenko settles back in his chair and takes his cock out, gives it a stroke as he eyes the cunt filling the screen.
Wet, cute- he’d like to fuck it, fill it.
Why the fuck does Touya always get such sweet pussy?
A scowl twists his lips, but his hand twists along with it- pumps along his shaft as he enjoys the sight of arched hips and a cute ass.
He’d fucking wreck that ass given the chance. Slam his dick deep inside and makes this bitch moan.
“You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?”
“Please!”
Fuck- what a good lil cunt.
Tenko grunts as he rocks into his fist, but then he fucking moans when he sees just who Touya is fucking.
Shit- fuck.
He knew the bastard was twisted but goddamn.
Tenko almost laughs, but he’s too busy jerking himself off even faster- eyes narrowed and teeth gritted, a pant sounding from him.
“Yeah, shit. Fuck that little sluts’s cunt. Breed your lil sis you fucking dick.”
He should be disgusted, probably. Horrified at the very least.
But fuckin’ hell this is hot and he’s been jackin’ it to shit like this for years anyway.
And, fuck, this is real- this is hottest shit he’s watched all month. All goddamn year.
Tenko cums before the clip is even over and he keeps fucking his fist even after, replays it with a hissed curse.
Touya better drop more after this. He better let them see this in real life- Tenko needs to see this slut’s fucked out face in the flesh, needs to shove his fingers into your moaning mouth and make you choke.
Tenko licks his lips and he saves the video- saves it a second time for a back up.
Just in case.
◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾
The second person to see the video is Jin.
He’s home- drunk, high, smoking a cigarette and watching reruns of Doraemon.
He’s feeling fuzzy, good. The night had been chill and he had liked getting a glimpse of Touya’s little sister- you’d been real cute, real sweet. He had wanted you to sit next to him- maybe in his lap like Keigo had teased- and he had wanted to hug you close, get you just as high and fuzzy as him.
He might have a lil puppy dog crush on you now- how could he not with you so shy and sweet?
Jin hums as he thinks of you, scratches his stomach and grins sleepily- one laugh leaving him as he watches Nobita fail once again.
His phone buzzes and Jin fumbles a hand over until he can pick up, blinks and raises a brow when he finds a video in the chat.
Someone fucked or someone did something stupid.
Or fucked someone stupid.
A snort leaves him and Jin takes a draw of his cigarette, lounges back and presses play.
It’s the usual shit- hot and boasting and showing off a cute lil wet cunt, a soft and sweet ass.
He’s a bit jealous, maybe. (Definitely)
He’s a bit too relaxed and heavy to get off on it, maybe. (No he’s not)
Eyes drawing half-shut, Jin reaches a hand down his sweatpants. He strokes himself lazily as he watches Touya spanks his mewling, whiny little slut and he smokes as he does, too- humming whenever he hears the plea to be fucked.
Cute. (Hot)
Whoever this is seems like a good little girl. (A needy little whore)
A small grunt leaves him when he watches Touya tangle his fingers into hair, but a gasp of “shit” leaves him whenever a head is jerked back and he sees a cute, flushed face that he definitely knows.
“What the fuck?”
He has to pause the video, bring the phone up to his face and squint at the screen.
He’s not seeing this right- can’t be seeing this right. He’s too drunk, too stoned. too fucked up- his vision is betraying him. It has to be.
...right?
Jin stares at the screen. He stares and stares and stares. His thumb hovers over the screen, hesitating, and the ashes from his cigarette fall onto his bare chest while he tries to decide what to do.
Touya wouldn’t really...he’s not really fucking his little sister is he?
No way. No fucking way.
(Yes fucking way)
Jin blinks and his thumb hit the screen, he swallows as he watches you beg for your big brother’s cock.
Fuck, that’s sick. That’s disgusting.
(That’s so fucking hot.)
His cheeks flush and his eyes widen, draw back down to lazy slits. His fingers twitch along his cock, tighten back around it when he gets treated with the sound of a whimper, a moan.
You sound so fucking good. (You sound so fucking whiny)
You’re so cute- you probably have such a tight, wet little pussy. (You probably have such a sloppy, fucked out cunt if Touya fucks you like this on the regular)
Shit, he wants to know how your cunt feels. He wants you on his lap, wants to feel you clench around his cock like a good little girl.
(A good little whore)
It’s too much to watch- too much to handle. Jin closes his eyes and tilts his head back with a groan, jerks himself to all the mewls and growls and groans and begs that sounds from the phone.
He comes along to the sound of you coming and he shudders after it, drags his hand over his cock and wipes the mess over his sweats.
...fuck. He shouldn’t have done that- he shouldn’t have watched that. He’s not going to be able to look you in the eyes if he ever gets to see you again.
(Fuck your eyes- he wants to look up your skirt, see that cute little pussy again)
Jin frowns and he runs his hand through his hair, tosses his burnt out cigarette into the ashtray before lighting another.
On the tv, Doraemon laughs. On his phone, Touya kisses your cheek and smirks at the camera- at Jin.
Fuckin’ dick. (Lucky bastard)
Jin shakes his head and he closes his eyes again, takes a draw and blows out a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.
...he’s got some fucked up friends. (No more fucked up than him)
A grimace and then Jin looks to his phone, taps on the screen and watches through heavy lidded eyes as his friend fucks his sweet little sister.
◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾
Keigo’s the last to see the video- he finds it in the chat after he’s sent the neighbor girl back home, after he’s gotten some head and drawled out promises of feelings that he’ll never feel for some dumb little whore with aspirations of home in the ‘burbs and a passel of brats.
He snorts when he sees it, thinks it’s just some busted bitch that Touya talked into coming over so he could rail his anger out.
Touya’s always been a touchy little shit.
He stills plays it, though- drops down on to his bed and kicks back, takes a swig of beer.
It’s a pretty little cunt that gets flashed his way- wet and eager, nice and snug looking. Keigo rolls his eyes whenever Touya’s fuckin’ voice sounds, but he’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy the sight of that cute cunt sucking in a rough thumb, the sound of a little whimpers and mewls.
Not a bad pussy, not a bad voice- maybe this slut isn’t that busted?
Or maybe she’s just a butterface.
A snort and Keigo lazily works his hand down his chest, underneath his sweatpants. He strokes him even if he’s just half hard and he lets his gaze drift to something half-lidded, amused and lazy.
“So fuckin’ wet and warm. So tight. “All for me, baby- right?”
Fuckin’ show off- as if this one ups the coed Keigo had last week, as if this one ups the way he had fucked her throat raw in the library and came all over her dumb face, all over her fat tits.
“Y- yes. It’s all- all for you!”
Wait a second...
Keigo blinks and his brow arches as he watches Touya lays a smack across a cute little ass.
That voice sounds kind of familiar. Someone he’s fucked before? Did Touya snag one of his sloppy seconds?
Fuckin’ maybe- fucker is stupid and petty enough to do that.
Not that Keigo cares, though- he’s never fucked anyone that he’d get jealous over.
It’s more funny than anything, actually.
Keigo snorts, again, and he pumps his cock with a sneer.
“You ever been with anyone but me?”
Yeah, you’ve been with someone better. Will probably come crawling back to him, too, when you’re left dissatisfied by Touya’s weak ass stroke game.
“N- no! Just you! Just Touya!”
...what?
“You want anyone else?”
“No! Never!”
What?
Who the fuck is this bitch?
Keigo scoffs as he hears a beg to be fucked sound, rolls his eyes as he watches skinny fingers tangle into hair.
Maybe he’ll have to hunt down this slut and wreck her, shove it in Touya’s face right back.
Keigo drags his palm over his cock right as Touya jerks a headful of hair back and Keigo damn near crushes his dick whenever he catches sight of just who Touya has caught in his clutches.
Oh that fucking bastard. That son a bitch.
A slew of curses hisses from him and Keigo snarls as he takes in your teary, needy face, as he hears his creep of a friend’s little sister beg to be fucked by Touya.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
The growl spits out of him and Keigo is barely aware of it- can’t fucking care about it as he watches Touya nail his cute lil sis.
This is absolute fucking bullshit. He can’t believe that fucking prick is railing his sister. He can’t believe that petty fucking asshole is dumb enough to show it off.
What the fuck? What the absolute fuck?
Keigo’s hand moves faster and he snarls as he twists his wrist, as pre-cum spills all over his fingers.
Touya doesn’t fucking deserve that cute lil pussy. Touya doesn’t deserve to rail you with your sweet ass and mewling moan and hot little whines. Touya doesn’t fucking deserve you at all.
It doesn’t cross his mind for one moment how wrong the whole situation is. It doesn’t cross his mind that he should be disgusted over a brother fucking his little sister, that he should be disgusted over the way Touya hisses promises of fucking breeding his little sister’s cunt.
If he’s disgusted it’s only because he’s not the one fucking you- that Touya got to you first.
Oh, Touya is going to fucking regret this.
He’s going to fucking ruin you.
Keigo hisses as he cums and he growls as Touya’s stupid fucking lips quirk into a smirk on the screen, snarls and throws his phone down onto the bed as his hips jerk and pound against his fist.
“Fucking bitch! Stupid fucking whore!”
No wonder you were so goddamn shy. No wonder you didn’t sit in his lap like you should’ve. It wasn’t him- it was you; it was Touya.
The beer bottle gets swiped to the floor and Keigo growls as he rips his hand from his pants and scrubs the cum on his sheets.
Touya’s going to fucking pay for this.
Keigo saves the video and he scowls as he does- face dark, teeth gritted, stormy plans of revenge brewing in his mind.
#touya todoroki x reader#tw incest#tw breeding kink#it took me forever to finish this but god i do love this concept :'3
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Dangerous Game- Dominic x Reader [SMUT]
Dominic aka Hot Aswang Leader, Abswang, Zadddy Aswang x Reader
Warnings (?): Smut, Blood, Biting, Implied Relationship, Implied Consent, Dominic being slightly possessive? M A R K I N G S, Oral (female receiving), THEY BE GOING AT IT NON-STOP
Genre: Good Ol’ Fashioned Forbidden Love (if there’s a genre like that LMAO)
Description: I wrote this at 3:40 am last night while listening to Dangerous Game from the Broadway Musical, Jeykll and Hyde and my brain immediately went, why not coconut? So have this little brain fart I just got when I’m supposed to be sleeping. Come get y’alls juice Dominic simps. Also, reader is AFAB but I’ll try my hand at a gender-neutral one if ever I get possessed by the spirits of determination, diligence and inspiration. Also included a Bridgerton reference there and maybe an Ang Darling Kong Aswang reference too kasi why the fuck not.
PS. I’ve managed to finish this up sometime around 2:45 am today and yes I did sleep last night/yesterday and no, I didn’t spend my whole weekend writing this fic. Maybe.
He knew this was all sorts of wrong from the start and yet here he was, standing within the bed chambers of the woman he burns for more than anything in this world and a strong and almost otherworldly desire that only could be satiated by being with her. Dominic knew that his kind and his lover’s kind would be at odds due to how their nature was as a creature of the night to prey on humans. Although despite this, he was feeling hopeful that his relationship with his beloved would last. As the Aswang Prince, he was well aware that was happening around the clans he ruled over and he also knew of the union of Elisa who happened to be one of his people and her now husband, Victor. He also knew about the bloodshed that had taken place during that time and how it led to the civil unrest and rebellion within the tribes of his kind that rages on up until this day.
The wind from the open window where he had come from seemed to rage on and about outside as if there was a storm brewing. There before him stood (y/n) clad in her sleepwear with her back facing him, dark eyes wide in disbelief and brows furrowed in uncertainty and the Aswang Prince could tell from the way she stood and presented herself that she was thinking about the same thing as him. Shrugging off his coat, he then took a step forward towards his beloved who seemed to be unmoving before him, strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, his sharp nails gently running down the tense woman’s arms, back before halting to a stop on her neck and stomach with a gentle yet vice-like grip, his face gently nuzzling against her warm skin, breathing in her scent like a drug.
I feel your fingers- Brushing my shoulder- Your tempting touch, As it tingles my spine- Watching your eyes As they invade my soul- Forbidden pleasures I'm afraid to make mine.
“D-Dominic, what are you doing…?” His lover would ask, trying her best to pull herself away from the prince, breath hitched in her throat, soft lips trapped in between her teeth. “Hindi natin tong pwedeng ipagpatuloy….delikado na.” Tilting her head towards him, Dominic responded to her, breath ghosting over her lips, “I know…Pero wala na akong pakilam kung mahuli pa tayong dalawa.” Before he would bestow his lover a searing and passionate kiss hotter than the flames of hell and the santelmo could ever conjure, his hands relinquishing their hold upon her throat as they made their way down past her shoulders, breasts and stomach only to disappear between the valley of her thighs where his fingers would make quick work of her folds, already dripping wet with her arousal, making his lover groan out in pleasure, his hips bucking against her backside.
At the touch of your hand- At the sound of your voice- At the moment your eyes meet mine- I am out of my mind- I am out of control- Full of feelings I can't define!
With Dominic’s left hand still relentlessly working upon his lover’s heat, he could feel (Y/N)’s hands attempt to push him away once more, her chest heaving and skin flushed a deep red, letting out a fragile keen of his name escape her lips before he took a step back once he felt her tug on his jeans, a hint for him to take off what was left of his clothing, the thick plume of desire that once clouded his mind seemed to dissipate when he felt his own arousal escape the confines of his now discarded garments as he let out a moan of his own once he saw (Y/N) drop her night dress to the ground, awakening something primal within him, eyes drinking in every single curve, dip and imperfections that his lover had. To him, (Y/N) was the most beautiful woman he had set his sights on regardless of what she would say and it was pretty ironic to say that an Aswang like him was starting to believe that God was real and that God was definitely a woman that took the form of his lover who was perfect in every way.
It's a sin with no name- Like a tiger to tame And my senses proclaim It's a dangerous game!
With their lips pressed together in a heated kiss that seemed to drive them both wild, the raven haired Prince of the night drew back with a low snarl, his teeth trapping her lips between his enough to draw blood as he pulled away with a smirk, the dark red liquid staining both of their lips as he spoke, voice raspy and deep, “I’ll make sure that you’ll only feel me and only me tonight and leave marks on your skin as a symbol of my love. Sa akin ka lang at ako sayo, naiintindihan mo ba?” his words seemed to send chills down the quivering woman’s spine as he dragged his sharp nails down against her soft flesh, his lips and occasionally his tongue and fangs would trail lower and lower, his face disappearing between her legs, eating her out like a starved beast, his nose brushing against the soft bundle of nerves, hands gripping her thighs and hips tightly with his unnatural strength, his nails dug into her flesh, which left miniscule bleeding marks where Dominic held her, his eyes boring into hers, drinking in the sounds (Y/N) made like fine wine.
It's a sin with no name- Like a tiger to tame And my senses proclaim It's a dangerous game! A darker dream That has no ending Something unreal That you want to be true.
They’ve done this a million of times but Dominic would never get tired of hearing his lover’s needy pleas for him whenever they made love like this, his fingers would tease her entrance relentlessly, watching her squirm and thrash upon her mattress with an almost sadistic delight. He loved how she would beg for him, how her body reacted to his fervent touches and how breathless she would get after he would kiss her. He loved every second of it and it was safe to say that Dominic was proud of himself to be able to make his beloved to become like this and all for his eyes only. After a few more flicks of his devilishly talented tongue, Dominic then pulled away a grin plastered on his face while his partner mewled rather pathetically, almost as if to ask him why he ceased his relentless teasing just as she was this close on reaching her much needed release and was surprised to feel two of his fingers enter her, curling and twisting inside of her clenching walls that made Dominic groan the same time his love had yelped and screamed his name out like a desperate prayer and all at once his fingers came out of her with a satisfying ‘pop’, admiring how her juices coated his fingers and glistened in the dim lighting of her room like ambrosia.
A strange romance Out of a mystery tale The frightened princess Doesn't know what to do!
Does she just run away? Does she risk it and stay? Either way, there's no way to win! All I know is, I'm lost And I'm counting the cost My emotions are in a spin! And though no one's to blame...
“Here, have a taste of yourself.” Dominic stated, pressing his fingers against (Y/N)’s lips, which of course the overstimulated woman took in with such eagerness, sucking on his digits like how she would suck on a lollipop, her gaze hazy and pupils blown, almost turning themselves as dark as the night and that was enough for Dominic to enter her without warning but had enough preparation for him, her moans silenced by the fingers that were still in her mouth, her tongue now swirling around them making him growl against the junction of her shoulder and neck, his fangs piercing the skin there as well before he pulled his fingers away from her mouth, replacing it with his own, not minding the slight metallic taste from the incisions he had left a few moments ago.
It's a crime and a shame! But it's true, all the same It's a dangerous game!
No one speaks- Not one word- All the words are in our eyes Silence speaks Loud and clear- All the words we want to hear! It was an all lips, tongue and teeth type of kiss that seemed to flare both of their senses up into overdrive and making the lovers both drunk and high off of the euphoria they were sharing. Both of their bodies rocking against each other, their hands grasping whatever their fingers could touch, grab and tug at. Dominic could feel (Y/N)’s nails run down from his shoulders and down to his back, edging him to go as fast as he could on her, his hair sticking haphazardly onto his now sweaty skin, hips furiously slamming into her with no breaks at all. Dominic was living for it and this action alone made him hoist (Y/N)’s leg up to rest upon his shoulder while the other one snuck behind her, reeling the woman in closer by her haunches, both of them moaning in delight. At that moment they both couldn’t care less about the sounds they made, the important thing was that they were both here together, regardless of what the consequences that would soon bestow upon them.
What happened next between them was all a blur save for the things they’ve done in one whole night. Dominic took (Y/N) to great heights with him making love to her continuously, he had her pressed against the wall with him taking her from behind, on the floor, on her dresser, on every possible surface and position he could think of down to the point where the two of them did it in front of the mirror where he would watch his length disappear within her and the way her breasts would bounce every single time he would thrust into her, his hand would grip on her throat and would tighten slightly, lips would ghost over her ear whispering a string of curses and words that would give Satan himself a run for his money and his lover would respond to every word he would say with a moan or a mantra of his name and it was a sign that she was close, coming for whatever time that night and he was nearing his climax too from the way he was holding her against him.
I am losing my mind- I am losing control- Full of feelings I can't define! It's a sin with no name Like a tiger to tame and though no one's to blame It's a crime and a shame And the angels proclaim It's a dangerous game!
“D-dom, I-I’m close!!” (Y/N) cried out with tears in her eyes the moment Dominic had thrown her upon her bed, her toes curling and hands balled up into fists, . “Then come with me, my love. I w-want to see you break.” The prince would respond as he pulled her into a tight embrace, still rocking against her like there was no tomorrow and soon enough, they both came together leaving (Y/N) mumbling out his name like a babbling child, her insides coated with his own juices as she shakily held into her, both trembling from the extreme ecstasy they both felt.
Once they both had come down from their respective highs, the Aswang Leader could only pull his face back from its previous position from (Y/N)’s shoulder, his touch soft and light as he brushed away some strands away from her face with a soft smile as the two basked in the afterglow of their passionate love making, the two would merely hold entwine each other’s hands as a silent promise to never let go of each other before Dominic pressed a sweet kiss upon it. “Mahal kita.” He spoke firmly, eyes full of love, warmth and vulnerability that only she was allowed to see as the female responded with a kiss and a soft smile before saying, “Mahal din kita, Dominic.” And soon the two lovers fell asleep, with their bodies pressed up against each other.
It's a dangerous game! Such a dangerous game...
#trese#trese netflix#aswang leader#dominic#trese x reader#fanfic#smut#dominic x reader#dominic simps come get y'alls juice#lemon#trese dominic#iTS ALMOST DAYBREAK FFS#BACKPAIN AND SHOULDER PAIN IS REAL#ENJOY YA SIMPS#Also a side note#please for the love of all that is holy proof read your works#I JUST NOTICED I PUT FLOOR TWICE IN THIS FFS#trese imagine
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Stay pt. 2
Summary: An unknown killer has been abducting local girls but somehow you managed to escape but you are still scarred to be alone. You are now safe in Easttown where you meet Colin Zabel a detective who is helping Mare with your case. When he finds out you have no where to stay he offers to let you stay with him. Little does he know where this offer will lead, and in the end you both end up finding comfort in one another.
Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, restraint, angst, there us fluff sprinkled throughout it
Word Count: 2879
“What if she stays with me?” Mare whipped her head up to look at him and Harriet did the same. He looked at them, his head tilted slightly to the side. “What?”
Mare gave him a hard look as if willing him to understand what about what he had said was wrong.
“What?” He asked again.
“Really? You think she should stay with you?”
“Yea.”
“Are you stupid?” At this point Harriet was glaring at him as well.
He gave a shrug, his arms still crossed over his chest. “I mean I know I’m not the ideal person to take her in, Harriet is the best candidate. “She nodded her head at this. “But I'm a detective and I have training, I can protect her.
“Zabel.” Mare said slowly as if willing him to understand. “You want the girl who was abducted and assaulted by a male killer to stay with you, a man.”
Colin’s eyes widened at the realization. “Oh okay I get why you guys were so concerned. But no I’m not offering her to stay with me alone I’m offering for her too. Wait.” He said taking a deep breath trying to clear the awkwardness but only making it worse. He took a deep breath and started again.” Look, I live with my mom.” Mare raised an eyebrow at this but she was in no position to judge him. “She could come stay with me and my mom. There would be a woman present at all times and an older woman at that. She might provide some motherly comfort to (y/n). My mom is also retired so she’ll be able to look after her like all day while I’m at work. And I’ll be there too and can prove protection if it comes to that.” Colin let out a breath of relief after fully explaining his intentions.
Mare and Harriet glanced at one another. “That’s actually a good idea Zabel.” He smiled at Mare’s compliment. “If she doesn't want to stay alone at her apartment she can stay with you if she feels comfortable with it.”
Mare stood up making her way to the door. “I’ll go and explain everything to her and let you know what she says.” Mare excused herself from their office and made her way towards you. She nodded at you as she sat down on the bench, making sure to keep her distance. “Hey so we know you have your apartment and if you want we are more than willing to drive you there, and we’ll have eyes on the surveillance to make sure no one bothers you.” You nodded your head at her proposal, a seed of dread still sitting in your stomach. You really didn't want to go back and be all alone. “Is there any way I can stay with you or Harriet?” You asked meekly.
Mare gave you a tight smile and shook her head with a no. “Sorry.”
You sighed. “That's okay.”
“There is another option.” Your head whipped up, you were ready to accept whatever it would be if it meant you wouldn't be alone. “If you want you can stay with Detective Zabel.” You felt yourself heat up at the offer, that was the last thing you had expected Mare to say.
You leaned to the side and looked past Mare towards Colin. He was working on something but when he saw you looking he gave you a wave and a smile. “You can stay with him and his mother.” You looked at her with wide eyes not believing her offer.
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You won’t be. And honestly we would feel much better if you were staying with someone we know.”
You bit your lips weighing your options. On one hand you really didn't want to be alone right now. But you also didn't want to inconvenience Colin. You looked up at him again, he looked like he would be able to protect you if anything happened, he was the most obvious choice. You were still a little hesitant about staying with him because a part of you wanted to do it for a more selfish reason. He was so nice to you and the way he talked to you brought you a comfort you hadn't felt in a long while. And he was cute, you chided yourself for thinking it but it burned in the back of your mind. You sighed already knowing which option you were going to pick.“Okay.”
Mare gave you a soft smile. “Okay I’ll tell him.”
Mare got up to leave but she stopped herself glancing around the room. It seemed Harriet had left to go back to her department floor. Mare knew that she had told her that they should wait to interview you till later but she really needed to talk with you and see what you knew. Sh turne dback to face you and you gave her a curious look. “Hey, would you mind answering a couple questions.”
“About the case?”
“It’s okay if you-”
“Yeah of course.” Mare was a little taken aback at your response. She was expecting you to try and push it back but there was this hardness in your eyes. You hated that man more than anything in the world, you wanted to do anything you could to get justice for the girls he had killed. You got up and followed Mare into the interrogation room, she called Colin to come in and he sat beside her on the other side of the table. You avoided their piercing gazes and stared down at your lap, playing with your hands. Mare’s voice made you look back up.
“So you were only missing for about two weeks, correct.”
“Yes but it felt like longer.” You watched Colin as he scribbled down your answer to what Mare had asked you. “He um he approached me late at night. I was walking home from work, my car was being repaired. It was a Tuesday I think.” You furrowed your brows as you tried to recall the exact details of what had happened on the night of your abduction.
Colin looked at the way your face scrunched up and set his pen down. “We can do this later if you’d like.”
“No, I want to do this now.” You said with a harsh tone. “Sorry, it’s just I want to help you guys anyway I can.” Colin nodded and picked his pen back up. “It was tuesday and I had to work late so I didn't walk home with my friends like I usually do. I was walking home and this guy jumped me near the alley.”
“Do you remember anything about him?” Mare asked.
“Yeah, he had a scar across his palm on his right hand. He was big, but he had a stomach. I never saw his face though. I was new so all he really did with me was tie me up and drug me. So my memory of the house is really hazy. The girl that was there took care of me, she was supposed to teach me how to act around him.”
“If you were tied up, how did you escape?”
“He only tied us back with rope, and for the most part during the day and night we were allowed to just be in the room unrestrained because it was locked.” You rubbed your wrists, remember the way the rope burned your skin and how raw it made it. “But one day when he came in to get the girl I was with, she was pregnant and he didn't like that. He pulled her out in a haste and when he locked the door behind him he didn't do it right.” You were crying at this point, remember the screams of the girl as she is pulled away. She had looked out for you when you got there and you knew there was no hope of ever seeing her again.You knew they would find her eventually but it wouldn't be alive. “So when he went to bed I was able to slam against the door and after a couple hits it opened.”
“He didn't hear you?”
“No, we were kept in this storm cellar near the house. It was raining that night, I waited for the cracks of thunder and then hit the door, that way it would mask the sound. I don’t remember the house or where it was as soon as I broke out I ran. It was really secluded, I could hear his car chasing me but I guess I lost him once I hit the woods.” You sniffled, your heart rate picking up at just remembering the events. You had tripped so many times out of fear alone, at one point you believed that there really was no escape. You had collapsed at the edge of the woods from exhaustion, at the time you didn't have any idea that you had actually made it out.
Colin watched the tears stream down your face. He hated that they had to make you relieve your trauma, but anything you remembered could be critical in catching the guy. Mare reached out and consoled you, telling you that there were only a couple more questions they needed to ask you. You nodded and answered them the best you could.
“Thank you (y/n). You gave us a lot of good leads to look up on.” She stood up and you did the same. “Detective Zabel will take you to your apartment so you can get some of your belongings and then to his house and help you settle in.”
You weren't prepared for how out of place you would feel in your own apartment. You hadn't even been gone that long and yet everything seemed so foreign to you. You told Colin he would make himself comfortable as you got a bag together. You walked through your apartment looking at all of your possessions. Nothing seemed real, or brought any comfort. In your mind you were still trapped in that small space, sharing a twin mattress with a girl who was long gone. You had loved your apartment and now it just seemed constraining. Willing you to continue with your life and go back to normal. Something you weren't quite ready for yet. You rifled through your clothes, pulling random out of the drawers, not even bothering to see what it was. All you wanted to do was get out of your apartment.
Colin was looking at the pictures that were hanging on your wall. He smiled to himself at seeing you through the years, from your awkward teen years to now. He liked this one picture in particular, you were on the beach standing about ankle deep in the water. Your hair was blowing around your face and you had the happiest smile on your face. He blushed looking at it, you looked very pretty in the picture. Of course he had thought you looked very pretty the first time he had laid eyes on you. As soon as he thought about it he shook his head trying to clear it from his mind. It wasn't right of him to think things like that, he had just met you and you had gone through something horrible. The last thing you needed was the man you were staying with thinking about you in that way.
You watched as Colin looked over your pictures with a smile on his face. You blushed at the way he stared at our pictures. You cleared your throat and he turned to face you. You lifted up your bag. “I’m ready to go now.”
The ride to his house was awkward and quiet. Colin glanced over at you. “I wasn't sure if I was supposed to have the radio on or not.” You raised an eyebrow at him and he continued on. “You know how they always say in serious situations you should not have your radio on cause it seems insensitive.” He started to ramble and you watched him with an amused look. He was so considerate but in the most awkward way possible. He sighed and glanced at you again. “That didn't make any sense did it?”
“Not at all.” He laughed and you did as well. It surprised you, you didn't expect to be able to laugh like that anymore. You took a quick glance at Colin, there was something about him that you couldn't quite place, something about him that made you feel safe and almost normal. Being around him reminded you of who you used to be. Colin saw you looking at him and smiled, you looked away with a smile of your own taking hold. Colin flipped on the radio, ABBA started playing. He hummed along to the tune mumbling the words to the song under his breath. After a while you joined him, your shoulders moving away from your ears as you relaxed. “Afraid of a love affair, but I think you know, that I can’t let go….”
Your first thought was that Colin’s house felt like a home. The minute you stepped through the door this wave of comfort settled over you. The dated furniture and childhood pictures really tied it all together. His mom tried to ambush you at the door with questions and hugs as Colin did his best to fend her off. He told her she could talk to you after you got settled in.
Colin rubbed the nape of his neck giving you an apologetic smile. "I’m sorry about her. She means well.”
“I think she’s nice.” You gave him a gentle smile.
He led you down the hall and stopped at the door closest to the living room. “This is the guest room.” He opened the door. The room was filled with boxes and crafting supplies, they were scattered over the bed and tossed into various corners. Colin cursed and scrambled to quickly empty the room. You giggled as you watched him apologize for the mess. He shook the blanket out, coughing at the dust that erupted from the fabric. He placed the blanket back down and placed his hands on his hips. “I didn't think the room was this bad.”
“It’s okay, it’ll be interesting to stay here.” You joked.
“No, it’s not, um let’s see.” Colin thought for a moment before it hit him. He grabbed your bag and opened the door across from the room. “You can stay in my room.” He smiled widely at you and you just gaped at him.
“What, no-
“Yes, you can stay here and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Mr. Zabel-”
“Colin.” He smiled shyly at you. ‘Please call me Colin.”
You returned it and started again. “Colin, I can sleep on the couch. I mean you’re already letting me stay here. I can’t take your room either.”
“Please, take the room.” His tone was firm. You sighed and nodded. “Great, so you can get settled here while I go back to the station.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I have to get back to help Mare, but my mom will be here if you need anything. And if you need me you can call me. Okay?”
“Okay.” He moved towards you and kissed your cheek, you flinched and he reeled back.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” He practically jumped to the other side of the room. “Force of habit I usually kiss my mom on the cheek before I leave. I-” he sputtered out, his face flushed red. I’m just going to go now, I’ll see you later.” He rushed out before leaving you standing alone in the center of his room.
You lifted your hand up to your cheek to feel the spot where he had kissed you. It was wildly inappropriate that he had done so, but it was even worse that you enjoyed it. You felt your heart flutter at the thought of him kissing you again, but this time moved slightly over.
You set your bag down on his bed and made your way to the kitchen. His mom was sitting at the dining room table and got up when she saw you coming.
“It’s okay ma’am, you don’t need to get up. I just came to get a drink of water.”
‘Let me get it.” She didn't even give you room to protest, she sprang out of her chair and rushed back with a glass of water. You thanked her.
“You have a really nice home Ms. Zabel.”
“Thank you dear.” She smiled warmly at you and hesitantly reached her hand out towards you. Resting it on your forearm, you looked at where her hand rested. You hated how such a simple act of comfort made you tear up, it was nice to feel such a loving touch. Her voice made you look back up at her. “You know, this is your home now too.”
You smiled at her, nodding at her statement. Little did you know how right she was. And little did you know that pretty soon Detective Colin Zabel’s house would become more of a home to you than any place before.
Taglist: @anonymushhy @chiswritingandreadingcorner @xxspqcebunsxx @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @xmaximoffic @livingmybestfictionallife @evanmybeloved @kaismessiahbb
#detective colin zabel#colin zabel x y/n#colin zabel x reader#Colin Zabel x you#colin mare of easttown#colin zabel fanfiction#mare of easttown colin zabel#colin zabel mare of easttown#Colin Zabel fluff#Colin Zabel headcannons#mare of easttown fanfiction#mare of easttown spoilers#evan peters#evan peters headcanon#evan peters fluff#evan peters x you#evan peters x y/n#evan peters x reader#Colin Zabel angst
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BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)
Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?
Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader
genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol
Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!
wordcount: 2.2k
taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine
a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!
series masterlist
part one part two
The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.
Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.
It was the only face behind the killings.
But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.
“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”
“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”
You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.
You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.
“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”
You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.
“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”
“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.
A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”
Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.
You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.
“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”
Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.
You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.
It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.
For the first time in forever, you looked alive.
Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.
“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”
Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.
You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”
Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”
The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.
You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.
Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.
He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.
Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.
This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.
It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.
The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.
After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.
Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.
They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.
A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.
A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.
Billy.
Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”
A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”
With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”
The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.
“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.
“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.
“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.
“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”
The subject's face dropped.
“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”
“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”
The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.
“What is this? What fucking game?”
“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”
“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”
A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”
“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”
He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.
A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”
Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”
Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.
Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.
He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.
That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?
[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]
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