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psychwxrdd · 3 months

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i can't stop thinking about rafe being all head over heels for kook! reader and she doesn't give a damn about him and loves jj 😭 could be a dark rafe too omg

You.

(gif is not mine!)

🎀 - 18+, dark! rafe x kook! reader, jj x reader, stalker! rafe, possessive! rafe, obsessive! rafe (tbh i feel like it's all just normal rafe lmao) blackmail, gaslighting, gun use, smut, rafe is really unhinged, dub con. work and college are draining the life out of me so i didn't had time to see if there's any mistake :(( already apologizing for anything babes

rafe loses his shit when he finds out you're dating jj.

It wasn't fucking fair. A filthy pogue getting his way to your pants and your heart? When he tried to have you his whole life? He was furious.

Rafe's mind was a mess, thoughts racing, bad thoughts. He wanted to kill someone, take his anger out in any way... How could you do this to him?

You both knew each other since childhood, and Rafe is in love with you ever since. Some hook ups here and there, but nothing serious, just for one night stand. You were the one he always loved, always pictured when he had anyone else on his arms, he loved you so much it phisically hurted him. You were trully the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes on, and that would never change. No one could compare to you in the slightest.

Of course, he wasn't the only one. As if it wasn't enough that you're just the most gorgeous girl to ever exist, you're also sweet, funny, kind, smart... Always being nice to everyone, making friends everywhere. You were even friends with the ones from the dirty side of the island. Who could ever resist you?

But Rafe was also so cocky, even with your constant polite rejections, he knew who he was. He thought you would eventually throw yourself on his arms, he had so many ideas in mind. He always thought that in the end, you would be his girl, and you would both be the kook king and queen, that he would work while you're his little sweet housewife, waiting for him with open arms (and legs) at home. He spent hours thinking about you, about how much he wanted to carry you on his arms, just hug and kiss you, hold your hands. He would die for a simple touch. He wanted to know about your thoughts, things you never told anyone before... He wanted you to be his princess, his doll, only his forever.

He was always showing up at your work - even being a kook and not needing the money, you wanted responsability. As kids, he would always follow you everywhere in school, and being the tough guy he always was, little rafe would be all other boys bully, if he saw they talking about you being their crush. Always rushing to pair up with you in class. Really clingy, but he always made you laugh. Rafe would always tell his parents and everyone that you would be his wife one day, but at the time, it was just cute.

As teenagers, he started to ask you out on dates, asking if you wanted to go to prom with him, or if you could kiss him as a "birthday gift". And thats when you first broke his heart with "I only see you as a friend." But Rafe wasn't one to give up easily.

Always doing everything to show you how no other boy could ever be better than him. He was from the richest family in Outer Banks, he could afford anything you wanted. He always gave you expensive gifts, anything you said you wanted, he would buy it. He wanted to impress you all the time, but it was meaningless to you. None of that could buy your heart, and that started to annoy you, but as you were always too nice to everyone and didn't knew how to say no or push people away, you simply was quiet about how uncomfortable that felt.

And now, as young adults, things only got worse. He was extremely pushy, or as he would say, proactive. Everyone knew better than to mess with him, it was no surprise that he was trouble, but as he grew up, he also grew to be more and more mentally ill.

Now, he just happened to find out you and JJ were officially together.

What a fucking slut. What a fucking ungrateful whore. He loved you first, you were his first! How could you love that stupid pogue instead? What does JJ have that he doesn't? He is way better, he could give you the world if you asked.

Rafe wouldn't take this shit, not now. He was tired of this. You were supposed to be his girl, that is how it will be, and now it no longer matter for him if you want it or not.

He sniffed the rest of the coke and went to his dirt bike, on his way to your house, not much far from his.

"Hey, Rafe" you said in a soft tone. His heart melted at the scene, he was mad, but boy does he love you. The minute you opened your door he could smell your sweet, heavenly scent. You looked just like an angel, he wanted nothing more than to just stare at you like a fool, a sight for sore eyes. But he had to do this.

"You fine?" Rafe asked, a cold tone.

"Yeah...Is everything ok? You need something?"

He sighed and looked down, licking his lips. You could see he was nervous. "Is anyone home?"

You frowned slightly at his question. Why did he wanted to know that?

"No, my parents are out for tonight."

As you were about to ask him why, he was quick to cover your mouth and drag you inside, shutting the door behind you. Your eyes were wide.

"Calm down, okay? I won-...i'm not gonna hurt you... okay?" He said, still manhandling you, while caressing your hair and placing it behind your ears. He gave your forehead a kiss.

"I have a problem, and i want to solve it tonight" he said closer to your ear, and he could see the fear in your eyes. That sight and being that close to you was enough to make him almost cum on his pants. "I don't think you wanna date that Maybank guy. He's gonna put you in trouble, and i don't wanna see you in dangerous...I love you too much for that, princess. I - i can't just watch you ruin your life and do nothing about it!"

Tears fell from your eyes. Rafe talking about someone else being troubled? That was a joke itself.

"And...I need you to know that" His own eyes were tearing up now "That i much rather kill myself than see you with him."

You froze at him. You tap his hands, trying to let him know that you wanted to say something, but he didn't cared.

He put his hands on his pocket, and you were now a crying mess. His gun were now so close to your body, closer than you would ever want to stand from a gun.

You started to scream his name beneath his hand and thats when he let go of your mouth. "Rafe, please, lets talk about it!" you sounded desperated.

"Talk about what, y/n? Huh? My whole life, i have fucking loved you my whole life, and now you wanna talk? Bullshit" He shouted, his face red from anger. But his eyes were still full of tears.

"I- i...Rafe, please...I can..." You were lost, completely, what you were supposed to do? Break up with the one you loved to avoid someone's death? And then dating him instead? This was so fucked up. You felt like you would faint at any second.

He pointed the gun to his head, and thats when you acted from pure despair.

Almost jumping against him and giving him a hard kiss. His eyes went wide, but it didn't took long for him to kiss you back, much harder. He almost moaned at the feeling. Something he wanted so bad, for so long. You.

The expression on his face was almost like he was having an orgasm. He held you tightly, so tight you thought he would break at least one bone. As horrible as the whole situation was, he was a good kisser, you hated that you even thought that. But it was true.

Maybe it was just a survival instinct, but the way he knew how to kiss and hold you really turned you on.

You broke the kiss, quickly, and held his face. "Please, put the gun on the floor, Rafe"

His eyes were shining... He wouldn't deny you anything now. He placed on the floor.

"I will break up with JJ...ok?" You said, your voice breaking at how much your own words hurted you. It was so sick, you loved him more than anything. You couldn't imagine your life without him. Would he ever forgive you? You were sure that he wouldn't.

More and more tears felt from your eyes, while Rafe was smilling hard like a kid. "You don't know how much i waited for this, doll. But i want to make sure you're really gonna do this."

You were rolling your eyes, moaning as loud as it was possible, while Rafe was fucking you hard in missionary. He was so deep inside you, you felt like cumming harder than ever. But you didn't really wanted this, tho your body was enjoying it a lot. Your heart felt broken.

"Hi babe, you ok?" JJ asked on the phone, and hearing his voice made you cry again. You were now a mix of crying and moans. "Whats going on sweetheart? You're crying? Whats it?"

Rafe held your phone with a sick smile on his face, he couldn't control his groans as he held your neck with other hand. Finally being able to fuck you after so long... You had to reward him. You had to let him cum inside you, fuck you for hours, use you for how long he wanted. For all the countless times he jerked off thinking about you, all the times he fucked someone else picturing you instead. This was fucking paradise for him. He was sure you would end this night either pregnant, or with your whole pink girly room full with his cum everywhere.

"What the fuck is this?" JJ yelled, and you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, so Rafe did instead.

"She is dumping your ass, pogue. She is mine now."

#dark rafe cameron x reader #obsessive love #possessive #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #dark fanfiction

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probably-writing-x · 1 year

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Eyes On You

Summary: You were practically the princess of Outer Banks, everyone knew it. So, when you started dating Rafe Cameron, to say people had something to say about it would be an understatement. And there was only so much of it that the two of you could take.

Warnings: Some sexual references, cursing, Rafe being a protective bf

Author’s Note: Saw a tiktok about male book characters leaning against doorways and it inspired this entire story :) Enjoy and send in any requests you may have

Not my gif

“Babe can you help me?” Rafe calls out to you from the bedroom, where you’re fixing up the last of your makeup, there’s a stress to his voice.

“What have you done?” You laugh, setting down your mascara and walking across to the bedroom.

He was stood in front of the mirror with his bowtie dangling around his neck, clearly having given up on the fight against it.

“I hate these things,” He grumbles, dragging a hand over his hair.

“Leave your hair alone,” You hit his hand away, “Come here.”

You fold the silky material pieces over themselves until it resembles the bow shape and fixing it in the centre of the top of his shirt.

Rafe lifts his hands up over yours and pulls both of them to his lips to kiss you, “What would I do without you?”

You hum with his contact as he laces his fingers with yours and squeezes your hands three times. The two of you hadn’t managed to get out of going to one of your family’s events - full of people that thought the world of themselves, and had enough money in the bank to act like they could prove it. Rafe, of course, would be by your side, as much as he hated these things too. It was all shaking hands and comments on how you were ‘too good for him’ - though your parents and their friends thought of you as too good for everyone. You’d picked out a pale blue suit for Rafe, one that brought out a brightness to his face, and you were wearing a navy dress that matched the dark blue of his bowtie.

“You look beautiful,” He comments, leaning down slowly to press a kiss to your lips, delicate as if he’s worried he’ll damage the art in front of him.

“Thanks babe,” You smile, fixing the messier strands of his hair, “Are you ready to go?”

“Am I ever?”

~~~

Inevitably, the two of you were late by the time you both walked in. There were people spilling all over the ballroom venue, faces you recognised from growing up amongst faces around others that your parents were likely trying to impress. Everyone that saw you greeted you warmly, telling you that you had grown up too fast. With each person that you had to force pleasantries with, Rafe could see you getting more and more tense. He was sure this kind of night was your idea of hell.

“I’ll go and get us some drinks, darling,” He mentions, placing a hand on your back, “What do you fancy?”

“Anything, I don’t mind,” You smile at him and he squeezes your hand before disappearing through the crowd.

You were in conversation with your old neighbours, who were telling you about a new holiday home they’d just bought, and you’d completely lost interest.

“So, you and Rafe are still together?” The woman asks, raising her brows just momentarily.

“Yeah, over a year now,” You smile, even the mention of his name making your stomach flip like it did when you’d first got together.

“Are you sure, honey?”

The question makes your heart sink, and you lose your words.

“I’m just not sure if he is the one for you,” She sighs, as if her words are said with good sentiment.

“I’m sorry?”

“We just want what is best for you,” She squeezes your arm and you pull away from her touch quickly.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” You manage to force out, your eyes flicking across the room. You don’t find Rafe amongst the faces but you know you need to get away.

So often people tried to tell you that Rafe wasn’t enough for you, as if he were a boy damaged beyond repair and he would never be the boyfriend they expected you to have. They didn’t see the way he remembered all of the little details you told him, how he bought you flowers whenever he felt like it, how he made sure you knew he loved you every day. He was everything, even if they couldn’t see it.

~~~

Rafe was caught in conversation with two of the boys you’d gone to school with. They reminded him of himself from a few years ago, before he’d met you and before he’d changed. They spoke of nothing if they weren’t bragging, finding a way to mention their wealth or their status or their girls at every chance. The latter was their current topic.

“Listen, she was fit, but like nothing more than that,” One of them shakes his head, taking a long sip of his beer.

Rafe was hovering awkwardly between them, your champagne glass in his hand still waiting to be able to get it to you. He had to make a good impression at these things, he knew what they all thought of him otherwise.

“I mean, come on,” The boy scoffs, “I’m not tying myself down unless shes at least an eleven out of ten.”

Rafe is holding back a wince when the attention turns to him.

“Cameron, you still with (Y/N)?”

He pinches at the lobe of his ear, avoiding the anger that would normally course through him, “Yeah, yeah, still together,” He nods.

“Fuck, man, I don’t know how you do that shit,” One of the boys laughs, “One woman?”

“Oh, come on, this is Rafe Cameron, there’s no way he’s only fucking her.”

Rafe can’t do it for much longer, his grip tightens around the glass of champagne as if it was grounding him to you.

“Yeah, (Y/N)’s fit as fuck but she was always uptight in school, she’d never let anyone fuck her.”

Rafe sets the champagne glass down on the table, “Alright, fuck you,” He swings back his arm and launches a fist towards the jaw of the boy talking before anyone has a chance to stop him, before he can find any justification to not do it.

He pulls his hand away and the other boys scramble to their friend like a litter of lost puppies, pulling him up to stop him from stumbling over. Rafe shakes off his hand and picks up the champagne once again, directing himself towards the door before any of them can get a hand to him.

He pushes his way through a few more people until he gets to a clearing nearer the back of the room, where you were leaning against a doorframe, your back to him. Rafe comes up behind you, a hand over his head to grip the top of the doorframe as he towers over you from behind. You turn over your shoulder and instantly brighten at the sight of him.

“There you are!” You beam, a smile creasing the sides of your eyes.

“Here you go, m’lady,” He swings his arm around to bring the drink to you and you instantly notice the blotchy redness on his hand, the kind that is quickly turning into a bruise.

“Rafe, what happened?” You grip his hand gently before he can pull it away from you.

He sniffs and clears his throat, “Those assholes from your school.”

“Okay.”

He’s surprised at first, no anger in you for him getting into fights, no worry about the people he’s hit, no ‘please don’t do that again’.

“Okay?”

You hum and lean back a little into his chest, lifting the flute to your lips and finishing the glass.

“Alright who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?” He quips, bringing a hand up to massage into your shoulder.

“I hate it here,” You sigh, setting the glass down and leaning even further into him.

He rubs at your skin more, leaning down to press a kiss in the spot, his lips lingering before he perches his chin on top of your shoulder, “Do you want to get out of here?”

You nod, turning your head to kiss his temple, the sort of contact that makes him smile like a boy with his first crush.

“Let’s go home,” He drops his hand to lace his fingers with yours, the other hand falling to the bottom of your spine to guide you through the crowd.

“Wait a second,” You mention quickly, ducking out of his grip when you spot a waiter carrying a fresh bottle of champagne across the room of people.

You swipe it from him, spilling some of the golden liquid over your hand, hurrying back over to Rafe.

“What the-“ He laughs, looking at you with an admiration in his eyes that he never lost.

You grab his hand tightly in yours and pull him through the crowd, both of you pushing past bodies like they weren’t even there. You know they’re all looking at you, like you were the King and Queen’s princess, looking at Rafe as if he were the boy that corrupted you. But you don’t care. His hand is in yours and there’s enough adrenaline pacing through your veins for you to just keep running with him.

When the two of you break through to the outside, Rafe spins you into his arms, wrapping his grip around your waist and pulling you into him. You’re both breathless, a wildness to your eyes as if you were two escaped convicts. He brings a hand up and cups your cheek, kissing you with pressure like he’s forcing you to remember that he loves you. That, in that moment, he doesn’t think he’s ever loved you more.

And as much as all of those guests’ eyes had seemed to be burning into you all night, there was nothing else that mattered when Rafe’s eyes were on you, telling you everything that his words never could.

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merowkittie · 11 months

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Happy Fathers Day — Miguel O’Hara

Note: This gif is sad yes but this fic is not i promise :) a little Father’s Day fic for this father who needs all that family love. First time writing for him, I hope he’s not ooc. I had to rush it a bit so I’m sorry if it seems sloppy towards the end <3

Not proofread

Summary: You and your daughter appreciate the man in your lives.

Word bank:

querido(a) - sweetheart

cariño - darling

mi vida - my life

qué es eso - what is that?

Mi corazón - my heart

“Gabi, mama.. qué es eso?” You held back a laugh as you looked at the drawing she made with strawberry syrup on a pancake.

Gabriella looked back at you with a toothy smile. “Es Papi! This is his hair,” she pointed to a.. slicked back.. spiky top of a too round head, “This is his eyes!” The eyes were brown and looked like little dots.

You nodded your head and hummed. “Es bonita, querida.”

“Gracias, Mami!” She looked at you with admiration and glee.

It was Father’s Day and about eight in the morning. You decided to get your daughter and make some breakfast for your husband, Miguel. You made him take off so you could celebrate the day together.

You had a lot of things in mind of doing today but you knew you’d have to tone it down a bit being that your husband wasn’t a very outgoing and extroverted person. He tended to drift towards the peace and quiet of solitude. Though, you didn’t mind that. You fit together perfectly in your own little way.

For now, the first thing you and your daughter had to do was bring him breakfast in bed. Pancakes, waffles (for your princesa), eggs, sausages, and you cut up fruits like apples, kiwi, mangoes, and watermelon on the side being that it was a hot day.

You made fresh lemonade and had the pitcher inside the fridge so it could get nice and cold. Gabriella insisted on making art on at least one pancake for her daddy so you let her make a little mess.

“Bebe, get the tray from the dining table and bring it here, please?” You asked your daughter. putting the knife you were using in the sink and washing your hands.

Gabriella ran off to fetch the tray for the breakfast items as you grabbed a cup of lemonade and napkins.

“Aqui mami!” Gabriella handed you the tray and you kissed her forehead in thanks.

She helped you place the plates onto it and held the cold glass of lemonade for you. Her face was lit up like a beacon. Her beautiful smile on display, ready to surprise her overworked father who desperately needed all of this affection this morning.

You made your way up the stairs, starting to hear the snores of your husband from your bedroom. You and your daughter tip toed into the room slowly, trying not to wake your husband up just yet.

Gabi sat on your side of the body and you sat by Miguel’s sleeping form that was curled up in the comforter. You sat the glass of Lemonade onto the night stand, followed along by the tray.

Moving to adjust yourself, you leaned forward to kiss Miguel’s Hairline. “Wake up, mi corazón.” You whispered into his ear.

He made some type of noise and tried to pull you into him. You pulled back and shook his body.

“Wake up, querido.”

He still didn’t wake up. This man slept like a rock on his off days and it always took a couple of minutes to wake him up by yourself.

You gave a look to Gabriella and she took the hint you were giving her.

“PAPI PAPI!!” She started to jump up and down on your bed, shaking the two of you that were sitting down.

She giggled and screeched as she saw her father stir a bit more and try to grab her. She jumped around his grabby hands and then fell on top of him.

His eyes opened and he grunted at the impact. “Jesus, mama. Why do you have so much energy in the morning?”

“Bueno Dias, papi!” She giggled, curling herself into his chest and hugging him tight.

“Buenos dias, Gabriella.” He kissed her hair and then turned to you.

You smiled at him, reaching for his free hand and holding it tightly. You two just stared at each other for a bit, basking in the nice quiet of the bedroom.

You leaned down and kissed his hairline again uttering a good morning. He pulled you down and kissed you on your lips saying it back.

You pulled back after having a chaste kiss. The food on the nightstand was still nice and warm. You grabbed the tray and held it in front of you which caused the man to sit up.

“We made you breakfast. Gabriella drew you on a pancake, our princesa also drew you a card.” You placed the tray onto his lap and Gabriella shoved her card into his hands.

He looked at the.. drawing of him (it looked nothing like him and more like a blob of syrup) and gave you a look to which you waved off. He then read his card and smiled.

“I’m really lucky to have you aren’t I, Gabriella? Our daughter is so creative, cariño.” He scooped your daughter up and attacked her with tickles and kisses.

She squealed telling him to stop and after a bit he put her back down and started to eat the food you made.

He moaned at the taste and started to gobble the entire plate up. “Miguel! Don’t eat like that, you’ll choke. Here.” You handed him the glass of lemonade you made and watched him chug it too.

He placed it back on the night stand and wiped his mouth.

“This is delicious, querida..” he grabbed your left hand and kissed your silver ring on your finger. You smiled and sighed dreamily at his actions.

“You’re an amazing husband and father, mi amor. You’re everything I’ve wished to have had, I’m glad to have married you and being an amazing and beautiful girl into this world. I know you’ll do right, and I know you think you may be doing a bad job but there are no rules to raising a child..” you paused to wipe a start tear from his face, his mouth was left agape at your words, “you’ll know— we’ll know we did right if she grows up and doesn’t put us in a retirement home.”

He chuckled at that and Gabriella giggled. They were an exact replica of each other.

Miguel’s hand made it’s way to the nape of your neck, tangling themselves in your locs that sat on your shoulders. His free hand moved the locs that covered your forehead and he placed his on top of yours.

“Happy Father’s Day, dad!”

“Happy Father’s Day, my vida.”

I I had to disrespect somebody and their father while writing this 😒 but HAPPY FATHERS DAY YAAAAHHH 🤘

#miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x black reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara fanfiction #comfort #black reader #reader insert #miguel o’hara imagine

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beautifuldisaster88 · 3 months

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Forever by my side

A/N: After coming across the gif, this idea randomly came to me. If I get the inspiration, I MIGHT make a part two. I used the same McKenzie/Kenzie, but you can picture reader as yourself or whoever you want. The only description of reader is; female, 17, eye color (mentioned only once) Rafe always called her 'bunny'

Summary: Rafe's girlfriend is John B's twin sister and he tells her everything. She's seen a lot of bad shit, but swore to always keep her mouth shut because she loves Rafe. Ward on the other hand becomes Paranoid that the Routledge girl will go to the sheriff, so he takes matters into his own hands, causing his son to finally snap.

Warnings: mentions of murder, actual murder, violence, Rafe seeing hallucinations not knowing it's not real, cursing, mentions of torture. I think that's it?

Rafe's tall frame appeared in the doorway. The young man looked at his father, Ward Cameron, as he made his way inside his office. What the hell did Ward want from him now? He didn't have time for this shit.

"What the hell do you want, dad? I already told you that I need to find-"

The dirty blonde was cut off by Ward, clearly making Rafe grow even more irritated.

"That's why I called you in here, son. You don't have to worry about that anymore. It's all been ta-"

Ward was then cutoff by a breaking news report on the TV. The older Cameron man sighed, knowing exactly what the news report was about. He was hoping to be the one to break it to Rafe before anyone else.

"Breaking News. Kildare County Sheriff's department was called out to the marsh earlier this morning, witnesses claiming they spotted a body."

The news reporter began, immediately catching Rafe's attention. He ignored his father, giving the TV his full attention. Outer Banks wasn't a big place, so it was more than likely that Rafe knew whoever's body was found. The last thing he ever expected to hear came next.

"According to Sheriff Shoupe, 17 year old McKenzie Routledge's body washed up early this morning. It's still unclear how the young girl died, and the Sheriff's department is currently undergoing an investigation. If you have any information we urge you to call the Sheriff's department. We will update you with new information as it becomes available. McKenzie left behind her twin brother, John B Routledge, not even a year after the death of their father. Our thoughts and prayers go out to her family and friends."

Rafe stood there frozen in place, his heart breaking and ears ringing, as tears fell from his eyes. Not his Kenzie, please, anyone but her. Who would want to hurt her, she was always nothing but sweet to everyone and she had no enemies. That's when it hit him.

He violently jerked his body around to face Ward, Rafe's blood already beginning to boil as his heart shattered into a million pieces.

"What the fuck did you do!?" Rafe screamed as he began to pace, jabbing his finger into his own chest. "I-I loved her, dad! She fucking saved me, saw me for me! W-why would you take her from me!? She never fucking hurt anyone!"

"Rafe, I need you to calm down. I did what I had to do.. to protect us... Protect you. The Routledge girl knew too much, and it was only a matter of time before she slipped up and told someone. She had to go, son. I did this for you."

Now Rafe was beyond angry, his vision immediately turning red, blurred with tears. He grabbed Ward by the collar of his shirt and slammed the older Cameron man violently against the wall. Rafe got right in his face, seething like a rabid animal. His piercing blue eyes were now dark.

"You didn't fucking do shit for me! You never have! You fucking killed her for your own selfish fucking needs! She's not like the other Pogues and she would have never opened her fucking mouth! You took away my only happiness! The only girl I have ever fucking loved! I swear to you, I will fucking kill you, but first I'm going to make you suffer, just like you did to my Kenzie. You're not my father, you're nothing but a pathetic, scared piece of shit. The scum on the bottom of my shoe. It's fucking over for you, Ward! I will avenge my love's death."

Rafe had his hand gripped around Ward's throat so tight, that he looked at the man with a sinister smile, tears still running down his face. He watched as Ward tried to gasp for air, clawing at his son's hand as his eyes and face began to turn colors. Rafe was going to kill Ward eventually, but first he wanted him to suffer, until he was begging Rafe to kill him.

A dark laugh rumbled deep from Rafe's chest, a clear sign that the Cameron boy had officially completely lost it. Ward tried to beg Rafe to stop, barely able to speak from his airway being cut off.

"Did you make my Kenzie beg for her life too, huh? Is the last thing you saw were those beautiful emerald green eyes filled with tears, begging you not to hurt her!? She was fucking innocent! Would've taken our secrets to her motherfucking grave... Which ironically enough, she did all because of you."

Rafe then began to repeatedly slam the back of Ward's head against the wall, over and over again, as his fist connected with Ward's face, jaw, nose, you name it. The Cameron boy beat the man he once looked up to to a bloody pulp, before literally dragging him down the stairs and into the basement, where he threw Ward inside the wine cellar.

Weeks went by, and nobody had heard from Ward. Rafe played the distraught son, acting like he was worried sick about his missing father, when the truth was he had him locked away where nobody would find him, Ward's days were numbered. Rafe had used every type of torture imaginable.

The worst part about the Cameron boy finally completely snapping? He held full on conversations with his Kenzie, as if she was standing right beside him, telling her that he was going to kill Ward for her. In Rafe's mind, Kenzie WAS there, even responding to him when he spoke.

"I love you, Rafey. I knew that I could always count on you to keep me safe. Once Ward is out of the picture, it'll be just you and me. We can finally leave this island and start our life together, away from everyone."

Rafe grinned like a maniac, looking directly at his Kenzie, when in reality he was looking at nothing. She wasn't there, she was dead, but he refused to believe that.

"I'll always protect you, bunny. This time next week, you and I will be on a private beach somewhere far away, sipping on cocktails and fucking under the sunlight. Ward is barely hanging on, and tomorrow is when we finally end him. I'm gonna marry you, Kenzie, yeah? Make you my wife and have a bunch of little ones running around. 'm gonna give you the world, baby."

Rafe caressed her cheek, actually caressing thin air, as he leaned his forehead against 'McKenzie's.

"I can't wait, Rafey. Now, come on, baby, we have a gruesome murder to prepare for. Don't listen when Ward tries to convince you that I'm not real. He's just trying to get you on his side, save his own ass. You can see me, touch me, feel me, you know I'm real, right baby?"

"Of course you're real, bunny. I don't believe anything Ward says, talking about he killed you. And they say I'm the crazy one? He's the one talking about you being dead, when I'm holding you in my arms right now."

The next night, Rafe murdered Ward, with his Kenzie by his side, cheering him on. He stabbed him over and over again, the same way that Ward had killed McKenzie, but in Rafe's mind both him and his Kenzie came up with the idea.

After disposing of Ward's body, the same exact way Ward had disposed of McKenzie's, Rafe packed his and Kenzie's bags and loaded up the truck. The two of them, in reality just Rafe, left the Outer Banks and never looked back.

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx #unhinged #rafe x reader #my fic #short blurb #unhinged rafe #hallucinations

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ckret2 · 6 months

Note

I need to know: how you think bill would be in chat if he ever got the priviledge to get a phone or use a PC?What social networks would he use?

Types in all caps at all times. Punctuation optional. If someone asks him to turn off caps he instead doubles the font size. He can do this even on sites/apps that don't allow you to change the size. He won't say how.

Considering this is 2013? He's probably a pioneer in spreading misinformation and bullshit on twitter. He's one of those "MANIFEST LOVE and $$$ get your DREAM JOB through the POWER of the LAW OF ATTRACTION" cultish New Age grifters making money off a website selling self help PDFs. He's building an internet cult.

Anyone who knows him IRL gets to hear him laughing about how stupid his followers are. However it sounds like he kind of buys some of his own New Age BS to a degree that worries people.

He gets in stupid drama and then spends all night digging up something to cancel his opponent over and sic his followers on them, not because he thinks he's justified, but sheerly for the thrill of the hunt. It makes him feel powerful. His twitter has been banned four times. People run webpages dedicated to documenting his heinous bullshit. He reads them regularly.

He's waiting til 2014 when bitcoin prices drop to like $50, buying as much as he can, spending six years waiting, and selling them in 2020 for like $69,000. He runs a blog telling people to buy crypto. He can actually foresee when the prices are going to peak and fall. He doesn't share this info. He makes bank himself and gleefully ruins everyone else's finances with no regrets. (He would encourage Mabel to buy and tell her exactly what day to sell.) (He would not tell Dipper when to sell.)

He hangs out in doomsday prepper forums so that he can make up new conspiracies and see if he can make everyone even more paranoid.

He's got a youtube channel that's a mix of all of the above BS. New Age self-help buy-crypto buy-gold our-universe-isn't-real access-the-higher-planes doomsday conspiracy mishmash. You can imagine the viewers he attracts. He disdains them all and tries to make them worse on purpose. Never shows his face, every video is a slideshow of psychedelic & pseudo-religious art (mostly stolen) with a voiceover and mystical-sounding music.

Mabel gets him on tumblr, because if Mabel has any social media of course it'd be 2013 tumblr, and probably a deviantart. She's posting her art and really badly photoshopped gif edits of her favorite cartoons and musicians, and generally acts like a normal person online.

Bill's tumblr is completely divorced from all his other horrible online activity. All he posts is cryptic rhyming couplets and terrible local photos of things that fascinate him. The photos could be anything from a car with a really sweet flaming paint job to a stunningly beautiful double rainbow over pine-covered mountains to a literal pile of dog shit because he thought it was interesting how it was drying out unevenly. Once he gets investigated for arson because he posted a picture of the house in flames within three hours of the crime. (He was, in fact, guilty, but he wheedled an alibi out of friends before they knew what he was being investigated for.)

He has like eight followers. The only content he reblogs is Eye of Providence images and pyramid images, which he tags #LITERALLY ME and thinks he's hilarious for; and also every single thing Mabel posts without exception until the end of time.

#anonymous #ask #bill goldilocks cipher

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yns-world · 1 year

Text

golden boy

part iii of the euphoria au!outer banks series

part i part ii part iv

title: golden boy

pairing: euphoria au!jj maybank x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, toxic relationship, emotional cheating

a/n: this fic is kinda depressing so i had to use a slutty gif to balance things out 🙏🙏🙏 IN JJ WE TRUST 🙏🙏🙏

italics = rue narrating

fem reader, racially ambiguous, any size reader

JJ Maybank. The sweet, Golden Retriever boy. Nothing but laughs, because if he stopped laughing, he’ll start crying. He’s had a hard life, hasn’t he? No mother, no real father— just some stupid asshole that he lives with.

In a way, he’s a lot like Y/N. They both grew up with the worst kind of abuse, yet they turned into rays of sunlight— of course, that was before Y/N snapped. Speaking of which, why did she snap? She looked perfectly normal to us.

She snapped because they all ignored her when she cried, begged, and pleaded to be saved.

She became a monster in order to survive.

JJ remembers a time when Y/N used to be so cheerful, so full of light. But back then, they were still from two different worlds; and a sun doesn’t intrude on another sun’s galaxy. He would watch her from afar, taking her in glances, and he was content with that.

But he wasn’t content when Rafe came in and sucked all that sunshine out of her. The change was so sudden that it gave people whiplash, but JJ most of all. You see, to him, Y/N was another beacon, a buoy, that made him feel sane. So to watch her change like that killed him.

It hurt even more when he realized just how violent and aggressive she became; Y/N became a projection of all of Rafe’s insecurities, she became a mirror of all his flaws.

Or that’s what JJ thought.

Deep down, JJ knew that this was just a side of Y/N that Rafe had brought out— this ugly, bitter, revengeful side had always been there, buried deep inside her. And JJ had this exact same side inside him, always there, always hiding in the shadows.

Because of this, JJ could never hate her. If anything, it only pushed him to want to reach out to her, to let her know that there is at least one person that cares, someone that understands her pain.

It was lunch and Y/N had been standing outside in the courtyard for the past hour. The warning winds of winter surrounded the school but it didn’t come close to bitterness inside Y/N. The cold that nipped at her face and skin didn’t measure to the boiling rage she held.

Y/N enjoyed the bitter cold because no one was stupid enough to join her outside and bother her. The cool, thinning air was able to clear her thoughts, it brought silence to her screaming mind.

She was alone, truly alone, for the first time in days. The fresh air was whisking Rafe’s cologne off her, the wind was whipping at the 14 carat chains around her. She didn’t even feel the tears on her face until someone pointed them out.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

JJ was walking past the courtyard, taking part in his friends’ meaningless conversation, when he saw a lone figure standing and looking straight at a tree.

He could recognize that mink coat anywhere. But why was she alone? That’s what JJ couldn’t figure out.

JJ isn’t one to get into people’s businesses, but his soul ached for her. His brain and heart both decided that he needed to see her.

He didn’t feel his legs move, he didn’t remember how he got there, all he remembers were the silent tears on Y/N’s face— her stoic, unmoving, perfect face.

But her eyes gave her away. They were swarming with so much agony and hate. If he didn’t know her, it would’ve scared JJ.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

His voice broke her thoughts, bringing her back to the surface. He could see it in her eyes; how she blinked back into the presence; how that cold, hard anger melted as she realized that JJ stood directly in front of her.

In a matter of seconds, her face contorted into the most emotion that JJ has ever seen from her— she looked like a child in misery, and she lunged into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder.

Instead of pushing her off, JJ just brought her closer, nearly crushing her to his chest, but that was all she wanted.

She wanted somebody to care. She wanted somebody to see her as a real person and not just as some 2D antagonist.

That day in the courtyard bonded the two in ways that Rafe and Y/N never could. JJ was someone that Y/N could rely on, he was always in her corner.

That same night, JJ went over to Y/N’s house.

They didn’t kiss, they didn’t fuck, they just laid side by side and JJ listened to Y/N spend the whole night talking about all the people (primarily men, but her mother gets a nice feature, too) that fucked her over.

JJ listened to every word with his whole heart, and wrapped his arms around her when she began crying again.

Unlike Rafe, JJ never left her that night— or any night that he was over.

During the day, they would have to pretend that they never knew each other, but as soon as the school bell dismisses them, they go back to their soulmate-like relationship.

Their relationship seemed complicated, but to them, it wasn’t. They didn’t put a label on what they had, but that didn’t stop the rumors from festering.

People were quick to notice the mutual eye contact between JJ and Y/N.

People noticed all the times that Y/N would acknowledge him in the halls, even while she had a rabid dog on her arms.

People used to think that Y/N was cheating on Rafe with the dead football player, but she wasn't cheating at all. If anything, you could argue that she’s emotionally cheating with JJ, but could you blame her?

It's not like Rafe was offering her any emotional support. The longer that Y/N went out with Rafe, the more she felt like a trophy for him to brag about.

No, she was more like a doll for him to dress up in pretty clothes and expensive jewelry, but he would throw her to the side as soon as he saw snow.

People mistake his possessiveness for love. Rafe was possessive of his toys, no one was able to play with them. But he wouldn’t play with his toys, either. He would just throw Y/N to the back of the closet to rot, making sure to lock the door so she could never escape.

JJ wasn’t like that at all. He saw her. He saw past the facade that Y/N so desperately tries to keep alive. He knows exactly where she’s coming from, he understands her and makes her feel normal.

JJ makes her feel desired, he makes her feel seen and accepted.

With JJ, she felt the most comfortable.

It’s been months since JJ started coming over to Y/N’s place. He’s always over when Rafe isn’t there.

Like so many other countless times, Y/N was sitting in between JJ’s legs, his hands running up and down her arms as he listened to Y/N.

“Am I a monster?” Y/N choked out, tears stinging her eyes.

JJ turned her head so she could look at him. “You’re not a monster.” There was so much conviction in his voice that Y/N nearly believed him. “You’re just a product of your environment. Plus, a monster wouldn’t worry about being a monster.” He tried to lighten the mood with his last sentence, but Y/N didn’t care. His words were what she needed to hear.

His words calmed the storm inside her but fed another flame in her heart.

Mere centimeters separated their faces and Y/N could feel his breath on her lips.

“JJ…” Y/N whispered, but he didn’t let her finish. He pressed his lips against hers, attempting to suck all the pain from her. And she let him. She also let him fuck all the problems away.

For a night, she was free.

For a night, she felt loved for who she was.

a/n: DON’T BE A GHOST READER!!!!! let me know your thoughts, opinions, ideas, etc in the comments!!! i love talking with y’all <3

if you enjoyed reading, please consider reblogging and tipping, they help my account more than likes :)

i'm open to requests! free feel to request, just make sure to read my pinned post for request rules <3

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thisisarcanereverie · 1 year

Text

When the World Went to Shit (Chapter 4)

Joel Miller x FEM! Reader

A/N: this is a SPOILER WARNING, this contains spoliers from the third episode (and more to come). This is a day late, watched episode 5 last night for the first time and I needed a moment oh my god. I was barely ready to write about episode 3, now I have to look forward to episode 5. I am already in tears over it.

WARNINGS: Canon level of violence, swears, reader is ready to fight a goddamn child, Joel is sad, talks of grief, PTSD, brief mentions of gore, Eventual Smut, pining (on both ends), grumpy idiots in love, reader is in her late 30's to early to mid 40's. Major character deaths. DISCLAIMER NO CHARACTERS/GIFS/PICS USED ARE MINE.

Summary: 20 years later after the world went to shit you, Joel, and Tess have to take 14 year old Ellie to the Firefly base outside of Boston QZ. What was supposed to be a simple plan turned into something much more complicated.

Prev. Chapter

Moving on was often easier said than done.

You don’t know how long you walked before finally resting. However, once you did your very bones felt like cement bricks weighing you down. You weren’t as young as you were before everything went to shit, you’ve lost too much to have that kind of energy anyways.

Tess.

There were times during the walk where you almost turned to look for Tess only to remind yourself of the fiery inferno that you had just left behind. You looked at Joel, who sat next to the bank of the stream alone in front of you. He was silent, which didn’t surprise you. He didn’t talk for days after Sarah died, he didn’t eat, he hardly slept, he would only look ahead like he was now. But you looked behind you to see Joel's coat draped over Ellie, it practically engulfed her small frame. You hoped she didn’t blame herself, it wasn’t her fault and you knew that.

You blamed yourself though, you should’ve said something sooner. You shouldn’t have had her tackle the clicker, you should’ve just shot it, this was all your fault.

You look up and blink away the tears that were forming, no, this was not the time for this. You loved Tess, but you all knew what you were getting into and what the risks were leaving the QZ. You just hoped she found peace, in those final moments and now. You hoped she was somewhere quiet and with her son.

You decided to busy yourself, you grabbed the empty water bottles with the intention of filling them up by the stream. You knelt down on the damp stones, near where the water brushes and began examining it. You thanked the stars that your uncles taught you how to look for clean water. You grabbed some of the cool water, checking for any cloudiness or suspicious debris, once that checked out you moved on to step two and smelled it checking for any unnatural odor, the only thing you smelled was the pine from the trees and the crispness of the air. You proceeded to unscrew the water bottles and fill them up, you tried to busy your mind with your surroundings as you did. Trying not to think about Tess, or Joel, or Ellie, or everyone else that you lost. Your mind took in the scent of the pine and the crispness of the air despite the clear skies. Winter was going to come early, you could tell.

After you had finished filling everyone's cantines you started back only to pause by a tree. It faced the stream and its branches filtered the light of the sun. You stayed there a moment and picked at the bark, it was soft enough to etch in. You set down the containers and grabbed the knife you always kept with you and etched Tess’s name into the bark. Deep enough for it to remain for a long time. People don’t have graves anymore, at least, not the typical ones with stones, so you hoped that the tree would suffice. Tess’s body might not be under that tree, but her name was. And maybe that was all that mattered.

You took in a deep breath, taking in one last look at her name before grabbing the water bottles and walking back where Ellie and Joel were. They didn’t need to know about the tree, and if you knew Joel as well as you think you did, you were sure that he had already made a grave for Tess himself.

You gave Ellie her container, she said a silent thank you as she grabbed it, you nodded at her before going to give Joel his. He accepted it wordlessly, grunting instead.

“So,” you start as you take a sip of the cool water before putting the cantine in your bag, “where are we taking her?”

“Bill and Franks,” Joel doesn’t look at you as he answers, “they’ll take care of her there.”

You couldn’t argue with that, you were meaning to visit them soon anyways. Bill was overdue for a checkup and you wanted to see how Frank’s condition was progressing. There was no cure for it, even before the outbreak, but maybe it had slowed.

But that was unlikely.

“It should only be a four, maybe three hour walk from here.” You gave a generalized guess as you leaned against the tree across from Joel who still wouldn’t look at you.

“It’ll be five,” Joel corrected, “we’re going to stay here for another ten minutes before we start walking again. If everything works out right we’ll be at Bill and Franks before nightfall.” you nod as you sit on the base of the tree as you wait, listening to the sound of birds as you take the piece of ration jerky that Joel offers you with a small thanks. Munching on the dry, flavorless piece of meat before handing the rest to Ellie.

“I’ve never been in the woods before,” Ellie says, breaking the silence, “more bugs than I thought there would be.”

You hum in acknowledgement while Joel says silent, you lean your head against the bark of the tree but you don’t dare close your eyes. You watch the light filter through the branches instead. An uncomfortable silence follows briefly before it’s broken once again.

“Look I’ve been thinking abou-”

“I don’t want your sorries,” Joel interrupted, grabbing his bag and swinging around his shoulders.

“I wasn’t gonna say I’m sorry,” Ellie says with an edge to her voice, her gaze at Joel unwavering, “I was gonna say that I’ve been thinking about what happened. Nobody made you guys or Tess take me, Nobody made you go along with this plan. You needed a truck battery or whatever and you made a choice.” Joel stood silently as Ellie continued, “So don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault.”

When she talked like that it was hard to remember that Ellie was a 14 year old girl. When you were 14 years old you were going through a horse phase and dreamt of those men you would see on your mom’s soap operas. That was an entire lifetime ago, in a world that was a little kinder than the one you were living in now, a little more forgiving. Ellie had never known such a world, she’s had to fight every single day she’s been in it and that panged you deep in your soul, in a place that only time could hurt.

“None of it was your fault.” You said and Ellie turned to you, “We all knew what the risks were.” you got up from where you sat, some joints popping in the process, you turned to look at Joel, his eyes looked at you for a second before turning to the girl, you did the same thing, you walked over to her and gave her a hand, “the only thing we can do now is move on.” Ellie waited before accepting your hand, careful not to dirty Joel’s jacket as she stood. The words you say hang in the air as Ellie reaches the hand holding the jacket out to Joel, who accepts it wordlessly. The tension from earlier dissipates as you all begin walking towards the abandoned station.

Along the way Ellie would point out a certain tree or pick up a small trinket whether that would be a feather or a really cool looking rock. You engaged her some, answering some of her questions, taking a break over the bridge to just throw random junk you found in the water with her, just to watch it ripple. Even Joel would engage her, answering a few questions here and there, telling her a few survival things. But he didn’t say much other than that, you knew he was just distancing himself, not growing attached which was the smart thing to do and if you were smart you would do the same thing.

But you didn’t always do the smart thing.

Once you reached a clear trail you followed it a-ways, careful to keep a hand steady on your handgun and checking for any odd things. Like a random ribbon tied to a branch, or fresh tire marks. Anything that might indicate other people, you weren’t so much worried for clickers as you were about raiders and looters.

“So,” Ellie began as she walked a hand on the strap of her bag, “have you guys gone this way a lot?” you and Joel both nodded, “no infected?”

“Not often,” Joel assured, “no.”

“Then what are you looking out for?”

“People.” Joel answered, You saw Ellie pick up the pace so that her steps matched his. You could tell Ellie liked Joel, despite his gruff and otherwise pretty intimidating personality.

“Are Bill and Frank nice?” Ellie asks, her head turning to Joel.

“Frank is.”

Frank was nice, you didn’t get to meet him until you accompanied Joel the next time he went there to give that wire to Bill, but he treated you like an old friend. You even made it a point to try to grab art supplies while you were out to give him, usually it was new brushes or supplies to make canvases. Bill on the other hand reminded you of Joel. Gruff and intimidating on the outside, but you get past the harder exterior is just a man who's lost a lot, and is willing to do anything for the people he cares about.

Sometimes you wonder if you even made it on that small list to Joel.

“How’d you get that scar on your head?” You’ve come to understand in the limited time you’ve had with her that Ellie was naturally curious and asked a lot of questions. You look at Joel a moment, examining his features. He was attractive, not by post-outbreak standards but before then. You remember seeing him for the first time in years the night of the outbreak, when his hair was still dark and his tanned skin still retained some youthful glow. But even as cruel times have been, the grays in his hair and stubble made him look more distinguished in a way, his skin the lines that indicated his age were small and suited him along with the scars. You don’t know if you could say that for yourself, but at least you were getting older you reasoned. That meant that you were still alive.

You looked at that particular scar and remembered fixing it up. It needed stitches but you were low on supplies, so you used superglue instead. That was something you learned to do when you were around ten, you had cut open your leg pretty bad and it needed stitches. But money was tight and medical insurance was a luxury many couldn’t afford, so your mom superglued it instead. It was painful but pain can sometimes give way to learning valuable things, even when it doesn’t seem like it at the time.

“I was the one to patch that up I think,” you commented walking side by side on the road with Ellie and Joel, “used the last of that superglue tube on it.” You resist the urge to trace the scar with your fingers, Joel wasn’t a touchy person and you couldn’t blame him.

“You super glued it?” Ellie asked quizzically.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, “I learned that trick from my mom.” You saw one of her eyebrows lift as her face contorted to an even more puzzled look.

“Wasn’t there like, actual hospitals when you grew up? Like doctors and nurses and medicine and all the stuff a hospital has?”

“Yeah,” You sighed, “but we couldn’t afford medical insurance, and without insurance the hospital bill would’ve cost us a small fortune that we didn’t have.” You see her face get even more confused, which you couldn’t blame her. One of the small blessings that came with the outbreak was that medical insurance was extinct, so if you managed to find a doctor and got treated, it wouldn’t come at the cost of a kidney or half a lung.

“Well that sounds stupid,” Ellie states before turning back to Joel, “anyways, did you get it by falling down stairs or something embarrassing like that? Please tell me it was something embarrassing!”

“I didn’t fall down any stairs,” Joel answered shortly, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

“Okay, so what then?” She persisted. You could hear Joel sigh in defeat as he gave an answer

“Someone shot at me and they missed,” Joel brushed off.

“See that’s cool!” Ellie exclaimed, it wasn’t so cool then. You were there that night, it left a few scars on you too. You remember him not looking afraid, even as you patched him up. But you remember his hands trembling though, he tried to hide it but then again he never could hide much from you. “You shoot back?”

“Yeah”

“You get him?”

“No I missed too,” Joel says, “that happens more than you think.”

“Cause you suck at shooting or just in general?” You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you. That was something Bill would say, has said before actually. You see Joel turn his head to you with a deadpan glare as you pretend to clear your throat, poorly covering up the previous sound. He rolled his eyes before returning his glare to the brunette beside him.

“I’m not even going to respond to that.” Joel said, returning his gaze to the road ahead.

“Isn’t saying that responding?”

You smile as Joel gives her the side eye before quickening his pace, you decide to hang back with Ellie instead of catching up with Joel. You walk in silence for a few steps, pretending not to notice Ellie’s gaze on the gun in your hand.

“So,” Ellie drawls, “since it’s just the three of us-”

“In your dreams,” You don’t even look at her but you just know she’s rolling her eyes.

You walk a little further until you walk around the fallen telephone line and see the familiar faded sign that reads “Cumberland Farms”. It had seen better days, with its ivy-covered walls and boarded windows, but it was safe and it held supplies that Joel, Tess, and you had stored up over the years. Even Tommy stored things here from time to time. Though, you guess, Tommy already grabbed whatever he had left behind.

“Hang back a minute,” Joel instructed, “gotta grab some stuff I stashed.”

“Stashed?” Ellie questioned looking at the rundown building apprehensively, “why do you have stuff stashed here?”

“You ask a lot of goddamn questions,” Joel pointed out.

“Yes I do.”

You and Ellie followed Joel through the door. Anything that was worth anything had already been cleaned out, now what remains was mostly bare walls and empty shelves and one lone arcade machine that had long since been out of order.

“To answer your question,” You started as Joel took a quick survey around the place, “we stash things on routes in case we find ourselves low on ammo or gear.”

“Which we currently are.” Joel added as he lowered his gun to walk towards the stash. However he didn’t get more than two steps in before you heard Ellie take in a breath.

“No Way!” She exclaimed as she made her way to the old arcade game turning her head to you guys for a moment, excitement in her eyes, “you guys ever play this?”

“Not really, no” You answered, watching how she fiddled with the joysticks and buttons.

“I had a friend who knew all about this game-” As Ellie continued to play with the controls despite nothing happening and talked about the game, you noticed Joel moving things out of the way searching for the stash.

“You ok there Joel?” You asked.

“Peachy,” Joel lied, “just looking for the stash.”

“You do know where the stash is right?” You asked skeptically, watching as he continued his search.

“It’s here,” Joel confirmed a low groan escaping him, “I just forgot where I put it.”

“Why isn’t it over where it usually is?”

“Because I moved it.” Joel stated as he continued to search

“Why did you move it?”

“Cause I did ok?” Joel responded, pausing his search to turn to you, his hands resting on his hips with his one leg out and that crinkle in between his brows that he gets when he’s frustrated and oh god FOCUS!

“That doesn’t explain why-”

“Look I know it’s here, I just-”

“You guys sound like an old married couple.” Ellie remarked, at some point she stopped talking nonstop about the arcade game and turned her attention to you two, who were bickering back and forth.

“We’re not a couple!” You exclaimed

“We’re not old!” Joel said.

You and Joel looked at each other for a moment, both saying different things at the same time, before returning your mutual glares at the small teenager in front of you, whose hands were held up in surrender.

“I only said you sound like an old married couple, not that you were.” Ellie then walked away from the arcade game she had been fixated on earlier. “I’m just gonna take a look around and see if there’s anything good.” but before she disappeared behind a door that led to a worn down break room. She turned back to look at Joel.

“Anything bad in here?”

“Just you.” he replied as he refused to look at you. Ellie scoffs a silent ‘ah, getting funnier” before finally disappearing behind the broken down doorway.

An awkward silence fills the space between you and Joel for a moment before he continues zeroing in on where he put the spare supplies. You take advantage of his avoiding gaze to look at him, to study how his shoulders moved with his breathing and one peppered curl hung in front of his forehead, you watched as the small streams of light bled through cracks of the boards and caught him in it. You stayed like that a second before you began to move as well.

“I’m gonna go keep and eye on-”

“You go do that.”

As you walked towards the door you heard something rattle only for a silent ‘fuck’ escape his lips. You walk in on her kneeling to the ground, finding a trap door you discovered your first time here a couple years ago.

“It’s been picked over already,” you said as you walked to stand by her, there had been a few cans and a box of tampons, which you quickly made sure to put in your pack. There also had been a clicker, but it had been trapped, an easy kill. A merciful kill.

“Still,” Ellie said standing up and brushing the dust and dirt off her knees, “would’ve been interesting to see what was down there.”

“Trust me,” you said, “nothing interesting.” for a moment you thank god that Ellie wasn’t going to mention what had transpired back the-

“So what’s going on between you and Joel?”

Thanks rescinded.

“What do you mean?” You ask obliviously, hoping she would get the hint of you not wanting to talk about it. Only to see her eyes roll, goddamn this girl does that a lot, and letting out a soft scoff.

“Yeah ok.” She says as she casually kicks some of the trash and debris, “denial is a river in Mississippi, and you are clearly swimming in it.” You furrow your brows as you grow slightly concerned over what FEDRA considered education.

“It’s actually a river in Egypt.” You corrected, crossing your arms, “and besides it’s not denial…and it’s also not your business.”

“I’m just saying,” Ellie says, looking at you, “I didn’t hear him deny you two being a couple.” You watched as she made fake kissy faces, clearly trying to invoke a reaction out of you, a rise maybe. You let out a long sigh, she technically wasn’t wrong. But Joel doesn’t look at you that way, the only time you saw him looking at someone in that way was Tess; and now Tess is gone and the pain of that loss was still fresh. An open, bleeding wound, one you couldn’t fix with a tube of superglue or a bandage. And even if it wasn’t, Joel would never look at you that way so why hope?

“And what about you?” You questioned.

“What about me?”

“About that ‘friend’ of yours you were talking about back there,” one eyebrow raised as you saw a slight flush on her cheeks, “the one who knew all about that game back there.”

“She’s just a friend,” Ellie quickly says before a somber tone enters her eyes which turns to the floor below, “was just a friend.” You regret bringing it up. You saw how dramatically her body language changed, how she played with the loose string on her long sleeve, and she herself leaned against the wall.

“I’m sorry,” you say, not knowing what else to do, “I’m sure she was pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” Ellie confirms, brushing some flyaways from her face, “she was.” She turned her eyes to you, a nervous expression rested on her face, like she was contemplating asking something before she went ahead and asked anyway. “Have you ever lost someone?”

“I’ve lost plenty,” you said.

“Have you ever lost someone you liked?” Ellie asked, “someone you loved.”

You knew what she meant by that, by someone you loved.

“Yeah,” you said, “I have.”

“Who?”

“My husband,” you admitted, “he died a year or two before the outbreak.”

“How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Move on.”

Those two words hung there between you, you tried to think about him at least once a day. Sometimes you would go a day or two and he didn’t cross your mind but then something would happen or you would see something that reminded you of him and there he would be. His face had long since blurred to you but you still remember small things, like his smile or the way he smelled. But time did funny things, he died before things went to shit and for that you were oddly thankful. He was a kind soul, and you would’ve hated to see what this world would’ve turned him into.

“I don’t think you ever really do,” you admit, “but time has a funny way of doing things. I can’t remember his face but I remember that I loved him and that he was kind. Maybe that’s enough.” you confided, “Let time do its thing, it’s gonna hurt in the beginning, but some odd years down the line it’ll hurt less and less until one day you’ll think of them and smile. Knowing that while you can’t remember some things, you do remember what was important.”

You pretended not to notice her wiping the corners of her eyes with her sleeve, but you returned the sad smile she gave you with one of her own.

“Thanks,” Ellie said, “and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your loss.”

“Thank you.” there was silence between you, it wasn’t uncomfortable or strained. It was peaceful, one of understanding. However it didn’t last long, you must have been too quiet for too long since you heard Joel’s voice call out.

“Doc?” Joel called, “Ellie?”

“C’mon kiddo,” you say as you both move from your respective places and head towards Joel.

“You’re not gonna talk about this with Joel or anything right?” Ellie asked, still picking at the end of her sleeve.

“No,” You assure her, “besides girl talk stays between us girls alright?” you gave her a mischievous wink as you saw her smile and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “girl talk.”

Joel was there at the door as you both exited the break room, seemingly tense.

“At ease Joel it’s just us,” you said, the previous awkwardness disappearing between you two.

“You were quiet,” Joel says, “you’re almost never quiet.”

“I’m plenty quiet.”

“You are,” Joel says before turning to the brunette beside you, “her on the other hand.” You laughed as Ellie gave him a half hearted ha ha before her attention turned to the opened container in the first aisle.

“See you found it.”

“Told you it was here.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you walked towards the supplies to reload on ammo and a few other things. There wasn’t much, but it was better that way. There were a few different places that you stored supplies along the usual routes, so your supplies were scattered but at least that means that if someone were to stumble upon the stash. You would take less of a hit than say if you put all the supplies in one place and someone just so happened to stumble upon everything and take it.

“Did you reload?” You asked as you put your gun in your back pocket, newly reloaded.

“Yeah,” Joel confirmed as he closed the box and settled it back in its place under the floor.. You had to admit, this was a better hiding place for it than behind the fake wall where it was previously. Not that you would actually admit this out loud to him.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asks as she sees Joel lower the large gun that was previously strapped to him in the ground with it.

“There’s not much ammo out there for this kind of gun,” Joel explained, “makes it mostly useless.”

“Well,” Ellie drawled, you already knew where this was going, “if you’re not-”

“In your dreams kiddo.” You said before she could any further before finally placing the fake floor board above the box and gun. You heard her huff but paid no mind to it as you made sure it was sealed. After that you and the rest of the group grabbed your bags and left.

Not knowing if you would ever see this place again.

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anteroom-of-death · 4 months

Text

Teacher's Pet part 4

(No gif today since I can't find one that fits)

Synopsis: Reader has a small mental breakdown over her developing feelings for the Doctor.

A/n: yall are the realest bitches I ever met for enjoying this. I love you. Also, I'm going to keep some things mysterious for now. But hey, I got a vague plot and I pound out these to keep the scaries away.

Stupid, stupid and foolish! Pig-headed! Dumb! Childish! Total Moron! You chastised yourself as you went into the women’s restroom and locked yourself in a stall.

Where did you get off developing feelings for a professor? Where did you get off by allowing yourself to get yourself to even begin that? Especially this fucking fast? You knew how men were! You knew that even the good ones weren’t ‘good’ in an empirical sense!

They lie, they cheat. They steal. They manipulate. They go on their phones and take hundreds from “Timmy’s uni fund” and transfer it to their private bank account (often that their poor, downtrodden wives didn’t see or have much access to!) to get their dicks fucking wet. They refuse to shower and they bullshit their way into places they really shouldn’t be.

But him? His smile? His poetry? The way he adored his wife even from a few sentences. Like every cell of his body belonged to this dead woman? The deep Scottish brogue? The way he was tender and cared for every single student? Including your dumb ass? The arch of his nose…and his hands?

It got inside you so quickly.

You continue to internally scold yourself, breaking down into tears.

It borderlined on cliché. Hot for teacher. Daddy issues. One man made you feel special so you got giddy and went and got yourself a crush. You truly were exhibiting what people called “Fatherless Behavior”!

You sobbed deeper into your arms, bringing your legs against your chest. Trying to keep balanced on the toilet, you gently banged your head on the wall beside you a few times. You had to meet with the accommodations people in about forty-five minutes. You had to pull yourself together. Even if it would demonstrate a point. You still had to retain some of your dignity.

Plus, you thought quite pathetically, what if he was out roaming and saw you like this?

You banged your head on the wall about it some more.

You let yourself cry for a few more minutes. Just to exorcize whatever was in your system. You weren’t going to allow yourself to cry over a man, even if that was exactly what you were up to!

After that little emotional outburst was over, you scraped yourself off the toilet and back into the general restroom area. You had to put yourself back together.

Splashing your face off with cool water in the wash basin, you noticed that your skin was inflamed and you had some pimples on your forehead.

“Oh, that’s attractive.” You muttered and started on trying to find the willpower to not pick at them. That’d make it worse. And would affect everything. No amount of makeup covers a sucking wound in a visible area.

You didn’t have much on you except for a medicated chap stick and some concealer, so you made do.

You really regretted listening to him and not smoking now…

Deep breaths, you told yourself. Just keep breathing. Healthy stuff. Plenty of people had told you before. 1, 2 3. Hold, longer 1, 2 3 release. Wash, rinse, repeat.

It worked a bit.

You didn’t work tonight, or tomorrow night. You could afford a bit of a drink. Tonight. Tomorrow would be too late and you’d have dry skin for Thursday night.

That’s what you needed. A night of shit TV, skincare and most of a large bottle of coconut rum drowned in a can of Coke Zero.

Would help remove the feelings coiled in your chest a lot.

Reset the system.

Remove ‘it’, whatever ‘it’ truly was…

You steadied yourself and went to the Disabilities Office and sat in the waiting room after signing in for your appointment.

You pulled out your phone and started flipping through a familiar social media site. The memes perked you up and put a smile on your face. Helped you keep composure. You even replied to a few mutual’s messages and congratulated the one on their new job.

Your meeting came and went. Apparently you could go to student-lead tutoring from people who already took the classes. You got signed up and thanked the councilor, taking the emails for the students to message them and get more in-depth about the struggles you were having

You’d do it later, once you got home…

Speaking of which, you stopped at the store and got a can of Coke and a bottle of rum before trudging inside of it.

You started studying and sending out the emails to your new tutors. Truly a task from hell.

You stopped yourself from having thoughts of another type of tutoring.

The drink you mixed was strong. Perhaps too strong. The show you put on in the background was harshing the vibes so you closed the tab it was on. You checked the site for your place of work. You scoffed at your photos and wondered how little you could pay to get a professional update to them.

Back to school work. Back to projects. You couldn’t afford to let yourself have a stray thought.

The liquor highlighted the slight soft pain you had on the side of your head from the pounding you gave it. You touched it gingerly and gave up.

You weighed your options, you could drop the class and take the failing marks. Or you could be brave and normal. And take the class, just skate by. Hardly ever speak. Take the lowest grade and still fail.

It was a matter of what left you with the most amount of dignity, but also didn’t waste your money or time.

Or heart ache.

Could you really spite yourself like that?

Or just cut off contact for good.

What would not break your heart nor your bank nor your ethics? Was there any option that left all intact and unscarred? Let alone your precious, stupid dignity?

You had too much on your plate as is, now this stupid crush?

And disposing of it?

You drained the rest of your glass and did the bare minimum in the shower. Mainly just let the hot water spill over your head while you stared at the wall.

You put even less effort in on your skin care and teeth brushing.

Just climbed in bed and let sleep find your semi-drunk body and fully-fucked up and over brain.

Your alarm shot you out of bed, leaving your heart racing and your chest heaving. You just didn’t go to get up, let alone do anything. You sent in a mass email from your phone saying that you were sick. You’d let yourself go to work tomorrow night. But you didn’t want to set foot on that campus until you had a better, more stable grip on yourself.

You had a hangover and a sore throat anyways, so it wasn’t a total lie.

Responsibilities be dammed. You chose to rot in bed and doomscroll on social media. It was your mental breakdown and you chose to make it worse. It was your right! And entirely your fault!

You kept yourself in that ball of blankets far too long. Going in and out of consciousness, phone in hand.

Before you knew it, it was Thursday. Late afternoon. You sighed and got up.

You were quite dehydrated and famished. Hardly leaving the bed and relying on the cups that littered the side of your table for your main sources of water for well over twenty-four hours had left you weak and you fainted upon leaving the coil of your bedding.

When you came to, you thanked your lucky stars and any God that may have been paying a half-lick of attention to you in that moment.

You kept it simple and reheated some Chinese takeaway you had in your fridge. It was edible. That’s all you could ask for at the moment. Edible and got you through the waking world…

You went into your bathroom and started not only the long ritual you did to prepare yourself for work, but also repair work for the past two days of neglect. It was hard work. Your face was inflamed, your left side had creases in the skin from the corners of your blankets bunched up.

You stretched out and did a bit of a warm up exercise.

After all of that malarkey, you started chugging a bunch of cold water. Then you started to get your work bag together.

This, this, that, that other thing there, you kept mentally chiding yourself. You were out of materials, hopefully one of your coworkers would be able to lend you some. Just enough to get you by until Friday when the shops would be open. You were pulling a double shift anyways, so what was a sneak out and in. Maybe you’d convince the owner/manager to let you work when you’re usually not on during Friday. Whatever little cash you would make would certainly be welcome, and certainly wouldn’t hurt. You could sleep between appointments or walk-ins!

Maybe you would break your promise to Professor Smith and get yourself a pack of cigarettes and to hell with the entire engagement!

You stretched again and got into street clothes.

You repeated to yourself that you had to keep your mind on money and money on your mind. That it came naturally. Whatever all those dorky manifestations you occasionally saw said. Anything. Just to keep your spirits up and get your mind off other subjects.

Money on your mind was a whole lot healthier than a certain silver-haired professor being in there. And his class you were skipping today…

Who knows, maybe something bad would happen to you and you would be sworn off men in any way except the bare minimum to survive this world for good! You thought catastrophically.

You slid on your street shoes and your coat, slung your work bag over your shoulder and made your way out your door.

What was that one song? And how did it go?

‘So for once in my life

Let me get what I want

Lord knows, it would be the first time…”

Yeah, like that.

#personal #doctor who #the doctor #12th doctor #12th doctor x reader #reader x 12th doctor #you x 12th doctor #12th doctor x you #i wrote this #self insert fanfiction #morrisey mention #teacher student #doctor who fanfiction #no beta we die like men #peter capaldi #my own bitterness comes out a tad in this lol #slow burn #ughhh

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msbigredmachine · 1 year

Text

TARGETS - 24 - A Woman’s Instinct

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organisation The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted. (AU Espionage Story)

A/N: I’m SO happy that so many of you are enjoying this story. Thank you all for the love!

TARGETS MASTERLIST

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gif by @jeysuso

Roman sat quietly on the window seat of Leona’s guest room, looking down at the shrubbery below. It was an inconspicuous, harmless-looking garden, but Roman knew Leona had it booby-trapped. He stared out into the distance, his rampant thoughts having kept him awake for hours.

Twenty-four hours had passed since Roman and Jasmine sought refuge in Leona's home. He was still trying to process the fact that he was now a fugitive. He had no job, no home, and it turned out The Authority had frozen his bank accounts and his assets, essentially grounding him if he wanted to flee the country like his girlfriend wanted. The hunter had become the hunted.

When did things become such a mess? More importantly, why did The Authority want him dead? Because he met Jasmine? Decided to pursue a relationship with her? He hadn't known who she really was until just over three weeks ago. If Xavier Woods was indeed correct and The Authority and F.L.O.R.A. had known their true identities all this time, then why had they not said anything to him? Why hadn't they warned him?

Simple. The Authority had never trusted him.

That was the only explanation he had. He'd played it over and over in his head and that was the conclusion he kept coming to. But if they thought coming after him would change his mind about being with Jasmine, that he would not retaliate in some way or form...then they were gravely mistaken. He'd given The Authority his entire adult life, and they betrayed him simply because he fell in love. Well, he wasn't going down, not without a fight. Not without taking the whole fucking lot of them with him.

“You’re fine as fuck, you know that?”

His girlfriend’s soft, semi-sleepy voice yanked him out of his thoughts. She stared at her boyfriend from her vantage point on the small bed, a dreamy smile on her pretty face. Roman felt his body relax as he returned her smile. He took his foot off the ledge and set it on the floor. “Come here,” he said.

Getting out of the bed, Jasmine strolled over to him. Even wearing just his t-shirt, she looked mesmerizing. He opened his arms out to her and she crawled onto his lap, giving him a soft, gentle kiss in greeting. “Mmm, fine and cuddly. Good morning, my love,” she said, stroking the back of his head.

“Mornin’, baby girl.” Roman held her close, pressing a kiss to her neck as he locked his arms securely around her slender waist. In the months they’d been together, she had woken in him a need for closeness and intimacy that he had never felt before. She showed him a lot of affection and he found himself doing the same with her. It made him feel good. “You comfy like this?” he asked.

“Mm hmm,” she murmured, hearing his sharp inhale when she shifted, sitting right on his groin. “You alright, baby?”

The smirk in her tone told him his little minx knew exactly what she was doing. “I’m fine,” he murmured through gritted teeth.

“You sure?” She rolled her hips, deliberately this time.

“Behave, Leona is right next door,” he warned. This was how she had teased him last night, grinding her ass against his groin as they lay in bed together, with him unable to do anything because they were guests in his former mentor’s house.

“Look at you, getting all pious on me. Thought your self-control was impeccable,” she teased.

Growling, he palmed her ass and rubbed his nose in the crook of her neck. “It used to be. Then I met your sexy ass and all of that went to shit.”

Giggling softly, she massaged the back of his head and kissed his temple. “If that’s your version of a compliment, then thank you.”

Roman chuckled at her little quip and inhaled her scent with a deep sigh. She was all he had left now, the only thing in his life that meant anything to him. Her familiar warmth enveloped him, calmed him. Their arms wrapped a little tighter around each other, savoring this private, peaceful moment. The quiet after the storm. For now.

“It’s my birthday today,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

Taken by surprise, Jasmine pulled back to look into his eyes and realized he was not joking. “Wait, for real?”

“Mm-hmm, but I don’t acknowledge it. It’s just any other day for me.”

“Why?”

Exhaling heavily, Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, already hating the feelings bubbling within him. “My parents split up on my seventh birthday. Every year after that, my mom would lock me out of the house for the entire day. Said giving birth to me was the worst day of her life and she didn’t need to be reminded of it. Shit went on for years.”

She couldn’t fathom it. In the twelve years she’d known her parents for, she was showered with gifts every year for her birthday. In her father and mother’s eyes, she was their little princess and they treated her as such. It saddened her to know her boyfriend did not grow up with the same happy memories. “I’m sorry to say this, but your mother was a terrible human being,” said Jasmine, barely containing her fury. “How could she treat her own child like that?”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s the truth.”

“Maybe, but that don’t make it right. She was supposed to love and care for you but she didn’t, and that kills me for you, baby.” She caressed the back of his head, her heart breaking afresh for him. “We’ve never really talked about having kids,” she pointed out. “Is that why? Do you not want any because of your childhood trauma?”

“I don’t know if it’s trauma…”

“Of course it is! From everything you’ve told me, your childhood was a nightmare. You lived in poverty. Your mother had your father murdered. She physically abused you for years. You killed her and her boyfriend. That’s not normal, Roman. Not at all.”

“I have never been normal, baby girl, and I’ve made peace with it. Besides, our line of work is too dangerous to bring children into. You know that.”

“We can teach them to defend themselves,” she replied. “I wish I knew how to fight when I was younger. That way, I could probably have saved my parents...”

They had talked about so much on the train ride to Vermont, including their acutely contrasting upbringing. Jasmine lived a serene life as a child, carefree and sheltered and innocent. It broke Roman’s heart to know that all of that had been brutally ripped away from her, that she had had to witness the horror of her parents’ murder, and was forced to turn to this violent, cold life. “You didn’t stand a chance against five armed men. You were a kid.”

“I could have tried.”

“You can’t possibly blame yourself for their deaths, baby girl. There was nothing you could do.”

She lowered her head, her voice small and sad. “It’s been so hard to come to terms with that. Even after I threw that motherfucker off the roof, it didn’t feel enough. Though I got closure, I didn’t feel all that much better because I was never getting my parents back. My work has been my coping mechanism ever since.”

“And look at us now. All fucked up and killing people for a living. Speaking of, how many?” Roman asked.

“How many what?”

“How many people have you taken out?"

Jasmine's eyes narrowed at the strange question. "Really? You wanna know this because?"

"I'm just curious," he defended. "Just give me a number, then I won't ask anything else, I promise."

Jasmine looked away.

"Okay, I'll go first," Roman offered. She pursed her lips, knowing this was the only way they would move on. "Alright, you first. How many?"

He shrugged, looking at his hands. "Round figure, probably about two hundred, two fifty total. You?"

"Including the man that murdered my parents?" she calculated, "Three hundred and seventy-six."

Roman went pale. "Holy shit!"

"You asked, I told," she shrugged.

"How the hell did you get to that figure?" he exclaimed.

"Some were in groups. Five, ten." She leveled her boyfriend with an amused glare. "Does it bother you?"

Roman swallowed. "No."

Jasmine eyed him for a moment before dissolving into giggles. “Liar. But don’t worry, you’ll get over it,” she whispered with a kiss to his cheek, leaning into him. "I want to get in contact with Rose. Give her a call." When his brows furrowed questioningly, she added, "My colleague from F.L.O.R.A."

"F.L.O.R.A.?" Roman's eyes widened with indignation. "You fuckin’ with me, right?"

"I'm not. I trust her."

"I trust Ambrose and Rollins too but you don't see me making contact with them because it’s too fucking risky! And how do you know you won't lead them all right here with the phone call? What about Leona? She’s already been compromised enough with us just being here."

"Which is why I'm not making the call here, doofus," she explained, genuinely offended that he thought she could make such a rookie mistake. "I'm heading into town in a few days to make the call with a pay phone. Once I'm done, I'll come back here." She rolled her eyes at the disapproving look on his features. "Look, I trust Rose. I know her, and she knows me better than anyone else...including you. I truly believe she has nothing to do with what's going on. Maybe she could help us get out of this mess."

Roman frowned, not happy at all. "Sounds like you've got everything all planned out."

Jasmine sighed. "Baby, don’t start.”

Looking into her eyes, he could tell she was getting upset with him. She was just trying to help, doing what she thought was best to save them both, and he berated himself silently for his petulance. "Sorry. I know I'm being a dick."

"Again," she reminded him.

"Again," he agreed, rubbing her back as he stared up at her. "I just don't want anything to happen to you."

His voice was quiet, worried, and Jasmine was touched. "I'll be fine. I'm a big girl and I can handle myself. You of all people should know that." Smiling, she traced the lines of his pec tattoo with her finger. "Still...I love that you worry about me."

Roman cupped her face between his big hands and pressed his forehead to hers. "Of course I do. You're my girl and I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back, right before his lips met hers. The next few minutes were spent kissing and caressing each other with eager mouths and hands. She pulled off her t-shirt, revealing her breasts and her beautiful body. Tossing it aside, her mouth was back on his in a flash, framing his face with both hands as she delved deeper inside his mouth with her tongue. She reached down between their bodies and dipped her hand inside his shorts. His head spun the second her fingers made contact with his hard flesh. “Baby…” he breathed against her lips.

“Hmm?” she murmured distractedly, occupied with trying to suck his lips off his face while stroking his dick with intent.

“Babe, Leona…”

“We’ll be quiet,” she convinced him, taking his hands and placing them on her titties to keep him occupied. He dug in from then, squeezing them eagerly and sucking one nipple into his mouth. Her tits were always soft and perfect and felt just right in his hands. He played with her right nipple with his tongue. The soft, yet firm piece of skin rolled around his tongue as her whimpers were becoming soft moans.

“Shh,” he warned, his voice muffled with a mouthful of titty.

“I can’t help it Daddy, it feels so good,” she gasped, biting her lip as he sucked her other nipple, massaging her breasts with his large hands. His tongue was warm and lashed hungrily at the hardened peak, and she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her when his teeth grazed it.

Roman stopped and glared playfully at her. “I’ll gag you if I have to,” he said sternly. In the same breath he realized he should have chosen his words more wisely, as the twinkle in her eye told him she was all for it. His sexy little slut. He recaptured her mouth in a deep, branding kiss, tangling his tongue with hers. Jasmine’s hand slid back down, pulling his dick out of his shorts with urgency. Roman grabbed her hand, stopping her.

“How bad do you want it?" he taunted.

"Oh, you doin’ this shit on purpose, aren't you?" Jasmine said.

"Damn right," he smiled.

"Roman, please…." she begged. Her body began to grind against him, desperate for him to be inside her. He relented and allowed her to guide his erect shaft into her. The pair immediately moaned from the intense feeling of her sliding down his length. Knowing that this needed to be quick, Roman rocked Jasmine back and forth on his cock. She reached back to rest her hands on his thighs as she rolled her ass with vigor, taking him deep inside her. The way she handled his dick did things to him. He was bigger than most, but she took that shit like a champ and he couldn’t help but be impressed. She was going in on the dick, riding him better than she had ever ridden him before. Roman rested his head on the window and allowed the pleasure to take over.

“You are so sexy, babe. You been makin’ me feel some type of way for a long time,” he told Jasmine, caressing her gyrating ass with his lust-filled gaze boring into hers.

“Mmm, I like to hear that, Daddy.” This time she leaned forwards, gripping his shoulders as she continued to grind and roll herself down on him, showering his parted lips with playful kisses and licks. He soon tired of the chase and covered his mouth with hers in a kiss that curled her toes. His big hands slid up and down her waist before landing a sharp slap to her backside, his stomach tightening when she whimpered and he felt her get wetter. Her pussy clenched around his cock and she started bouncing rapidly on him. They moaned breathlessly into each other's mouths in sync with their skin smacking together loudly and wetly in repetition. She was fucking him dumb and he was loving it.

Letting out another groan, Roman grabbed Jasmine by the hips and guided her up and down his dick with more force. She arched her head back and moaned his name, her nails digging into the skin of his broad shoulders.

“Mm-hmm, moan my name again, baby…Say my name,” he grunted as he took a handful of her hair and gently pulled.

"Roman…Fuck, Daddy, you hittin’ my spot," she whimpered, her mouth falling open and panting in ecstasy when he held her down on him and rolled his hips upwards from underneath, his dick raking her g-spot over and over. "Oh god, yeah, Roman..."

God, he could listen to her call out for him forever. He felt his dick harden inside her as his release approached. His hands tightened on her hips as he made her ride him harder, too wrapped up in the heat of passion to bother about Leona anymore. Anyone who could see them from outside was getting a hell of a show right now. Jasmine planted her hands on the windowpane for leverage, going up and down on him, up and down, soaking his dick with her wet pussy and making his eyes roll back with a throaty whine. His breathing accelerated with the manic rocking of her hips, as she was clearly determined to make him come, and come hard.

“Come in me, Daddy, I want your cum inside me,” she whispered.

“Yeah, baby girl? Want me to fill your pussy up with my cum?”

“Uh huh.” She kissed his lips, and then his neck. “Please, Daddy. I want it.”

Her needy, breathy voice was the pin to his grenade. He gripped her ass tightly and arched his hips, cussing loudly as he bust hard and deep inside her. It was like his soul was leaving his body, it felt that amazing. Realizing he had left her behind, he quickly reached down to play with her clit as she kept riding him. Instantly she clamped around his pulsing dick, and he groaned at the sensation, gripping her hair in his fist and giving it another firm tug. Strumming his fingers faster over her clit, he cursed under his breath as he felt her continue to tighten, and moments later, she was screaming into his shoulder, shaking in his arms as she climaxed, collapsing against him when it was all over.

The Samoan was in a daze. His girl just fucked the shit out of him and it blew his mind. Easing her off his dick, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, rubbing up and down her back as her face rested in the crook of his neck, both struggling to catch their breaths as they gradually regained control of their senses. Behind him, the window was fogged up thanks to her heavy breathing on the glass. It was a great start to his morning and he loved every minute of it.

“I should get you a present since it’s your birthday, right?” said Jasmine, lifting her head up to smile at him.

“The only present I want is something to tie up your hands with, some lube, and somewhere we can’t be heard,” Roman answered, letting his hands slide downwards to squeeze her behind. “I plan to make you scream from how good I fuck you tonight.”

Damn. That in itself warranted another kiss, which she happily gifted him. “I’ll see about it.”

“Good girl.”

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After showering and getting dressed, Jasmine headed downstairs and found Leona bustling about in the kitchen. She noticed how much the older woman liked to cook, like to keep herself busy in the kitchen. A coping mechanism, perhaps. It was not uncommon among retired assassins.

"Do you need some help?" she offered.

Leona looked up and smiled. "Yes, please. Help me cut those up." She pointed at some carrots and bell peppers, a chopping board and a kitchen knife. "I'm making stir-fry. Chicken and vegetables. Is that okay?”

"Definitely. That sounds tasty. Do you know it’s his birthday today? I’d like to do something nice, like make a flourless cake for him," Jasmine pointed out, and blushed at the small smile Leona threw her way. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just nice to see two young people in love, against all odds," Leona commented.

A loving smile lit up the former F.L.O.R.A agent’s face. "I didn’t know I could ever feel like this about anybody. I care so much for him, Leona."

"I know. I see the way you look at each other and treat each other. Both of you are beautiful together."

There was something regretful about Leona's tone that triggered the curiosity that had lingered within Jasmine since the day they arrived, rather unceremoniously, at her doorstep.

"You're not really retired, are you?" she said, her eyes on Leona, and she watched as the older woman froze, her kitchen knife suspended in mid-air. When she didn't respond, Jasmine seized the opening and barreled on. "When Roman and I showed up...you were clearly anticipating someone when you tackled me. You thought we were being followed. I got a feeling you've never treated Roman like that before. Plus you've still got weapons hidden everywhere and a rigged garden. I know that's the standard of living for a retired assassin. We never really feel safe, even after all is said and done." Jasmine peered closely at Leona, who still hadn't moved. "But there's something more. You're hiding from someone. You've been hiding all this time."

Leona slowly turned, and Jasmine saw the truth radiating in her eyes. A sardonic chuckle left the older woman's lips. "Roman's known me for years and I don’t think he’s ever guessed. You've only been here twenty-four hours and you've already figured it out. I've underestimated you."

"Let's just say it's a woman's instinct," Jasmine offered.

Leona remained silent, but Jasmine could hear the faint echo of that wordless mental scream grow louder and louder, as whatever secret anguish the former assassin had carried within herself all this time was dragged back to the surface. Jasmine approached her, placing a hand on her arm. The gesture seemed to literally rip Leona away from her thoughts and bring her back to reality. Jasmine met her gaze solemnly. "You can tell me," she encouraged.

For a long time, Leona did not move. Then, she looked around the kitchen for a moment, her expression remorseful, as though apologizing for tainting her place of Zen with her morbid memories. She gently led Jasmine to the table and sat her down. Taking a deep breath, she began to speak.

"I was an agent at The Authority for many years, and I served as Director for most of my time there. The current Director was my protégé back then. I taught him everything he knew, and we worked well together. My story is quite similar to yours. I fell in love with a man, a target I was supposed to eliminate. His name was Dwayne. He was a bodybuilder who wanted to be an actor. He had big, big dreams." A small smile crossed her face at the memory. "I loved him the moment I laid eyes on him. He was just so different and so amazing. We began seeing each other, but he didn't know who I really was, what I did for a living, and he was better off not knowing if I was going to keep him safe. I lied about taking out Dwayne and kept him a secret, and for a long time it worked.

"Until Hunter found out. He told me to either eliminate Dwayne, or give up my position as Director of the Authority. Either way, he planned to expose me. I always knew he wanted power but I never realized he would blackmail me. I agreed to kill Dwayne, but instead I tried to hide him away. I knew my actions had consequences, but I didn't care what they did to me. All I cared about was that I loved Dwayne, and Dwayne loved me. I had to tell him everything, and he listened the entire time. Not once did he judge me. Not once. I put his safety first. He was the only thing that mattered to me."

"Did he escape?" Jasmine asked, although she could already guess the answer.

Leona's eyes glazed over. "No. The Authority found him, and they executed him right in front of me. Put three bullets in his head. His head was blown apart before the third bullet hit..." The older woman trailed off, pressing a hand to her mouth to keep from sobbing. Jasmine watched in silence, unsure whether to comfort her or not.

Leona had composed herself enough to speak again, ending Jasmine's internal debate. "I knew…I knew Hunter was in love with me. He'd mentioned it a number of times to me in private, but I never took him seriously. I didn't feel that way about him, and even if I did, it was a risk for us to ever have a relationship in the kind of environment we were in. He accused me of choosing love over my duties to The Authority, but I knew the truth. He felt betrayed that I chose another man, a civilian, over him. So he sent people after us. They abducted me and Dwayne and they murdered him. Then they tortured me, bound and gagged me and threw me into the deepest part of the Hudson River; all on Hunter's orders. He stood there and let Dwayne die, he watched them toss me into that water like I was a bag of trash, and he didn't even flinch."

Jasmine felt a sense of guilt ripple through her. She herself had done many a dump job before, but this was the first time it was invoking an emotional response in her. "I'm so sorry."

Leona's tears had given way to a resigned numbness. It would never be easy reliving that part of her life. "I survived. I still don't know how I did it, but I did. Washed up on dry land after managing to free myself of my bonds. I could have fled the country but I decided to come to Vermont. All these years have passed and I'm here, still biding my time. I will avenge Dwayne, and Hunter will die by my own hand. That's a promise."

"Roman doesn't know about any of this?" said Jasmine.

"No." The older woman shook her head. "Over the years he's provided me with all the information I need on how to get to Hunter, though unwittingly. I didn't mean to use him, but I ended up doing so." A faint smile tickled at the corner of her lips. "I remember the first day he found me. At first I thought Hunter sent him, but I saw in his eyes that he had no idea what was going on. I just told him I retired quietly. My first thought was to kill him and tie up a loose end, but I just couldn't. Honestly," A warm smile grew, "I've always been fond of him."

"Yeah, he's charming like that," Jasmine agreed, a bashful grin on her face at the thought of her boyfriend.

Leona studied the younger woman for several seconds. "I see myself in you, you know," she spoke softly, reaching out to take her hand. "You remind me of me during that time. I see the conflict in your eyes. You want to go on the run because it's the only way you feel you can protect Roman. That the further you run the harder it will be to find you. But in the end...they always find you. We both know that. These people are equipped with enough resources to find you no matter where you go, and it won't end unless you stop them, or they stop you. So I need to know something, Jasmine, and I need you to be honest with me. Just how much do you love Roman?"

Her answer was sincere and passionate, "More than my own life."

"Then you must fight for him," Leona told her with equal emotion. "You're both strong enough to put a stop to this. Do not let these people have a say in your lives anymore because they won't stop until both of you are dead. Fight with him, because I know he's doing this for you. Show him that you're on the same page."

"I am, and I will," Jasmine replied, her eyes ablaze with resolve.

As the two women continued to talk, Roman stood quietly by the entrance of the kitchen, out of sight, having heard every word. That itching sensation in his hands surfaced again, as he imagined them wrapped around Hunter Hearst Helmsley's throat.

---------------------

Despite the inconvenience, Leona was a gracious, generous host. Joining forces with Jasmine, they whipped up quite the spread, making several extra dishes for what ended up as a party, as well as a tasty chocolate cake for Roman. She even found some old party hats, balloons and streamers to decorate the kitchen with. It was hilarious seeing one of those tiny pointy hats perched on Roman’s big head. As thrown together as the party was, the birthday boy couldn’t be happier to celebrate his birthday with the two most important women in his life.

As she loaded up the dishwasher, Leona glanced over at the startlingly attractive couple sitting at the kitchen counter, smiling softly as she watched Jasmine feed Roman cake with a fork, in between sharing sweet kisses. They really were cute together. “By the way…I got a basement downstairs. It’s soundproof,” she announced.

There was a devious gleam in her eyes that piqued the couple’s curiosity. They looked at each other, their eyes widening with realization. “Oh?” Roman finally spoke, as Jasmine blushed profusely. Yeah, she definitely heard them going at it this morning.

“Mm-hmm. That’s if you’re interested. There’s a big bed…and a box of toys…Not sure what y’all like, but there’s enough to entertain yourselves with. Y’all knock yourselves out. Not literally, of course.” With a wink, she washed her hands and left the couple to process all she had just told them.

An embarrassed Jasmine ducked her head in Roman’s shoulder as the big man grinned from ear to ear. “You’re the best, Leona!” he called out after her.

----------------------

Thoughts?

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

Please leave comments! I love comments!

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #targets #Candice Patton #the bloodline #the usos #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns imagines #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader

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inevitablysomber-dark · 1 year

Text

Shackled (Chapter 14)

(I couldn't quite find a gif I was looking for so this is as close as I could get to what I wanted)

Dark! Rafe Cameron x Pogue! Reader

Warning: There are some intense, dubiously consenting and nonconsensual sexual themes in this series, MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. MINORS DNI.

Summary: You hate Outer Banks with a passion and are working hard to get out despite all the obstacles in your way. Rafe himself eventually becomes one of those obstacles after a night of low impulse control. Will you be able to overcome him or with you have no choice but to submit.

Slow Burn

Series Masterlist

It was a failure.

You limp down to the docks, sitting on a bench where no other bodies were found.

You needed to be alone and didn't think you could face another person in your condition.

You went to Barry's just to be rejected before giving your proposal. Your loyalty and consistency all these years meant nothing, as he seemed to already have his mind made up before you arrived.

You tried returning home, hoping to crash on the couch, but the house was riddled with police officers and yellow tape. And it seemed that the backyard had been dug out.

Was your father serious when he mentioned what he possibly had done to your mother?

With nowhere to go, you found yourself at the docks, near the marsh.

Now you were stuck on this god-forsaken island with no home, money, family... nothing.

You could feel tears forming at your hopelessness as frustration creeps up the base of your neck.

You lay your head back as you find it increasingly more difficult to breathe, heat from the sun beating down on your body as it was midday.

"Hey," you open your eyes to find Pope Heyward standing in front of you, and what seems to be concern painting his eyes.

You shut your eyes since keeping them open took too much energy. "May I help you?" you ask.

"Are you ok?" you felt a bit of movement as his body hovered, shielding you from the sun. "You don't look too good."

"I'm fine," you just wanted to be left alone, was that so hard?

"You don't sound too good either," he states, ignoring your sentiment.

"I think she needs help." another voice states this one more feminine. You assume it was Kiara since she was the only girl besides Sarah who kept Pope's company.

The island was small, and with a rag-tag group like theirs, it was difficult to not know who they were.

This time you don't open your eyes, fatigue has quickly settled in your body. Doing anything at this point would be futile.

Irritation suddenly began to bubble at your helplessness, and you needed to vent.

"You know what pisses me off," your voice sounded weak and stiff. "I worked so hard to get away from this place, and it all disappeared in one night," you ball your hands, trying to push your body to do something, anything.

"You both were given the opportunity to do something with your lives, and you squashed it." you try to push your body up. "How is that fair?" your voice barely a whisper, and your attempt at moving found you on the ground.

"H-hey, be careful, don't - Kie, go get help - don't move, we'll get you some help."

You knew what he said, you just couldn't register the meaning behind his words. "How is that fair?" you whispered again, as your body relaxed in a moment of peace and darkness overtook your consciousness.

"Wait, stay awake," were the last words you heard before a peaceful slumber took you.

***

You constantly fell in and out of consciousness, taking in pieces of evidence as you drifted. You knew you were at the hospital, hooked up to many machines, and you were pretty sure you were handcuffed to the bed this time.

Of the handful of times you found yourself awake, you thought you saw Rafe or Sarah. You weren't sure, so you couldn't say.

When you were finally fully awake, you found your vitals being taken by Nurse Annie Rose. When she finally does look your way, she gasps and, in a low whisper, asks. "Blink once if you're awake."

"Why do I have to blink if I can talk?" Your voice is very raw and scratchy. The sudden movement of your vocal cords has you choking on your own spit.

"That's why." she pulls a straw from her coat pocket and puts it in a bedside pitch before putting it to your lips. Cool water falls into your body as you greedily pull from the straw. Damn, you were thirsty.

"Honestly, the first thing you give me when you wake up is an attitude," when she hears that I've emptied the pitcher, she removes it from my lips. "You young ones just have no respect these days, huh?" she moves the straw to another jug and puts it to your lips, the water wasn't as cool, but it still felt good going down.

"You were out for a few days, so you're gonna be thirsty for a bit, I'll have someone bring in more water for you," once you've emptied the jug, she sets it down before placing her hands on her hips.

"Now, why would you sneak out of the hospital in your condition?" she looks disappointed " You're in worse shape than you were the first time. What were you thinking?"

It all came back at once your father, the bank, Kelly, Barry... So much had happened in the last several days, and you just couldn't catch a break.

Tears began to roll down your cheeks.

"I can't afford this, Annie, I nothing...and no one," you sniffle and wince from the pain it caused.

"Oh honey, I wouldn't say you have no one," she comforts, moving over as she gestures to a sleeping figure on the recliner next to the window.

Your stomach drops, and you sob even harder, elevating your body's pain. You didn't mean to, but it wakes him up. As soon as he sees your eyes are opened, he quickly moves toward you, concern etched on his face, as your sobs become uncontrollable.

"Oh dear," Annie says before pulling a syringe from her coat pocket.

"What's wrong with her? What are you doing?" Rafe asks.

"She seems to be having an episode." you feel a prick in your arm as she holds on to it. "This should help you relax a bit, dear." when she pulls it out, you feel your body relax into the bed.

"What happened?" Rafe asked, never taking his eyes off you.

"Her situation is a lot to take in now. We should give her a moment to reflect while she's relaxed, and she should be fine by the time medication wears off. "

You close your eyes as black clouds overtake your vision.

"She should be fine in about 12 hrs,"

***

As you wake, you can feel someone playing with your fingers. Your eyes flutter open as you take in your surroundings, noting the man beside you.

You felt so tired and lethargic. Your fingers twitch as you attempt to move, catching Rafe's attention as he looks towards you. He looks back down at your fingers as he moves them around.

"We'll pay your hospital bills," he says, still holding on to your fingers " And I'll take you home and nurse you back to health" he puts your hand down and looks you in the eyes. "But then you have to do something for me."

You swallow, scared of what the something might be.

"We don't have to worry about it now, we'll discuss it when you're better, but you do have to agree to it now,"

You were scared, but what choice did you have? Your two options were Rafe or dying somewhere random in the cut. You could figure out a way out of this later, but right now, you couldn't do this on your own, and you were too scared to try.

You squeezed the finger he had against your head and nodded.

"Help me," you whispered.

He breathed relief before placing a chaste kiss against your lips.

"You're mine now, and I'll take care of you."

#Dark!Rafe Cameron #Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader #Dark! Rafe Cameron x Pogue! Reader #Dark OBX #Pogue! Reader #Pogue Reader #dark fics #Rafe Cameron c Reader #Outer Banks #series #Shackled #Shackled Series #dub con #dubcon #dubious consent #abuse #parental abuse #near-death experience

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pappydaddy · 2 years

Text

i wish you would (j.m.)

a/n: i wrote another, whoops... this one is pretty short (for me) only about 10 pages, a bit longer than style. anywho, hope you enjoy this one, i think i might actually stop making a/ns on every post, let me know if anyone actually reads these! i will still make them when there is something important to say, but i don't think i need to do them all the time.

anywho (for real this time), enjoy this lovelies! i am really rooting for 1989 rerecoring next!💛

tv show/movie: outer banks

pairing: jj maybank x fem!kook!reader

not requested

style | i wish you would (j.m.) - you're here | how to get the girl (j.m.)

synopsis: y/n finally decides to tell jj that she is tired of not having a label, but the phone call goes south when jj cannot seem to get what she is saying causing y/n to hastily hang up the phone. now they both have to deal with the consequences.

au where there was no treasure but sarah and kie mended their friendship and brought everyone together

warnings: fwb kinda gig, secret relationship (a little), angst, break-up (kinda), miscommunication, longing, heartbreak, mention of wanting monogamy

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif -

“Hey, Sweet cheeks,” JJ’s hushed voice answered the phone on the second ring. The sound of a door closing sounded in the background. “To what do I owe this pleasure? A booty call?” His voice went back to normal, JJ must have moved to a more private spot away from the prying ears of their nosey friends.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that, JJ.” She gnawed on her red-painted lower lip as she stood in her room. She sat on the foot of her bed, her feet resting on the edge of her bed frame, her hands running up and down her thighs in nerves.

JJ hummed flirtatiously. She could see him now, smirking, that James Dean gleam in his striking blue eyes. That image right there made her second-guess her decision to have this conversation. “Do you really? And by talk, do you mean give me specific dates and times for our escapades?” The use of the word nearly made her bow out. He knew exactly how to push her buttons to make her mad and to make her weak. He only actually used big-ish (or proper) words with her. It started to make him appear more competent, then he realized she liked it in more than one way.

“No, JJ,” She told him with a sigh. “Like actually talk talk.” She informed him clearly. JJ picked up on the slight hint of nerves in her voice, realizing the severity of the situation.

“What’s going on, Y/N, is everything okay? What’s wrong,” He asked, suddenly on edge and alert. “Did someone say something to you about us? Did they find out about us?” He rattled off more questions when she didn’t answer in a split second.

“No, nothing like that,” She shook her head despite the fact that he couldn’t see her. “But what are we,” She questioned. “Like, What do you mean by us?”

“You and me, obviously. That is what I mean by us. Our relationship-”

“That’s what I mean, JJ. Our relationship, what is it? Are we ever going to be more than what we are? Are we ever going to actually have a relationship?” She questioned a mile and minute. She was sure on the other line JJ was blinking slowly, trying to make sense of her lighting round of questions.

An unsure hum sounded over the phone. She could hear the wind as she pictured JJ looking around the area. “Y/N, I thought we were cool with what we were? I thought this was working.” He spoke low.

A frustrated sigh came out of Y/N. “JJ, we are graduating next year. I am going to go to college. We are going to go to prom, what does all of that mean for us? Do I go to prom with someone else, do you go to prom with someone else? Can we really be okay seeing each other with someone else,” She pointed out. She breathed out for a second, shaking her head slightly. “Because I know I wouldn’t be okay seeing you at prom with someone else. I am not okay not knowing what we are,” She declared. “If you want us to be a secret, that is fine. I can be a secret. But I cannot do this unlabelled thing. I can’t do this not knowing that you are mine and I am yours thing.”

“Y/N-” He cut himself off with a breath. “I’m sorry, but you know how I feel about labels-”

“You know what JJ, you can do your non-labels with someone else. That’s what it would be like if we were still doing this or not. You would be out with some other girl and I would be forced to sit there watching it no matter how much it made my heart bleed. I don’t want to hurt like that anymore, JJ.” She quipped, pulling her phone away from her ear, not hearing JJ’s desperate attempt to get her to stop, her finger slamming against the screen where the red button was.

“I wish you my love wouldn’t send you running.” She breathed out, her chest heavy, eyes pooling with unshed tears as she clutched her phone to her chest, a burning searing through her as she nearly hyperventilated.

____

Two AM, the Twinkie drives by her house. JJ, sitting silently, watched the house as he crawled by. The light of her lamp in her room was on, telling him she couldn’t sleep. Memories of her smile lighting up whenever he crawled in her window crept up on him like a grim reminder of what he had lost. Memories of the way their hands found each other under the table when the Pogues were bumming for food from Kie’s father.

He thought back to the late night moments. Low voices, tender touches as they were tangled together. The sound of her hoarse but soft voice, strained from the moans and her holding back her screams that JJ wanted so badly to hear. He could almost hear her voice within the darkness of the van. Shaking his head, his foot slammed against the gas pedal - the van rattling loudly and the engine roaring as he tore off down the road, leaving Y/N’s house and the memories in the dust. “It’s all in the past now.” He muttered, his tongue pressing into the skin below his lower lip, pushing it out as he rubbed his chin as he drove straight out of the neighbourhood.

Frustration, hurt, sadness, and longing swelled within his heart - making him angry with himself and with Y/N. Angry with himself for ruining one of the best things that happened to him. Mad at Y/N for making him love her. For being so damn loveable that he couldn’t resist her.

Two AM, Y/N lays in her bed. Her lamp beside her was bathing half her room in light. Eyes locked on the window, hoping to see JJ’s face appear from the darkness. For a second, she could see his face, see his finger tapping on her window, wanting to be let in. But, alas, it was just a fragment of her imagination.

Yellow-tinted headlights passed her window pane. JJ. She had hoped it was JJ coming back to her just like she wished he would. She thought of him, the yellow street lights reflecting off his skin - bathing his skin in a tinge of yellow, popped into her head like a vivid dream. His blonde hair whipped around as he sped down the darkened streets, his hand clasped on her leg, thumb stroking the inner thigh as her skirt rode up. Looking over at him, the red lip prints left by her littering his neck, disappearing below his shirt.

For a moment, she wished she had never hung up that phone like she had. She wished she could go back in time and talk it out. She wished he would come back, wished they could talk it out now. She wished he knew she didn’t hate him. She wished he knew that she would never forget any touch, any look. She wished he was here, pushing her buttons in the way he only knew how to. She wished he knew that she missed him too much to be mad at him. She just wished this was all just a dream.

____

Y/N imagined that she and JJ were it, but the more she thinks back to it, the more she realizes that they were just a crooked love going in a straight line down. But, no matter how doomed they were, she still wanted him sitting across from her and not Topper. Not only was it wrong that she was on a date with one of her best friends' terrible exes, but he also wasn’t JJ.

She pulled her lips away from her drink, a red ring of lipstick left on the paper straw. They were sitting outside on the patio of The Wreck, enjoying the last bit of summer before fall came. Topper was going on about his plans for the upcoming school year, what classes he’s taking, what sports he might try to get scholarships for, blah, blah blah (that’s what it sounded like to Y/N).

Another reason she loved being with JJ (even if it was in secret moments stolen), he never talked to her about school and the future as much as other people do. They look at her, see how hard she works and think that’s what she only wants to talk about. They think that’s the only thing she is interested in. With JJ, they talked about things like that, of course, they are big parts of their lives, but they talked about everything. Their dreams, their hopes, but they also talked about nothing as well. They could talk about the unfairness of the division between Kook and Pogues and the resulting inequality then turn around and talk about the most random thing - Y/N remembers fondly the time that they spent most of the night talking about an oddly shaped branch they saw.

“A scout last year said that I am a good candidate for a golf scholarship. Full-ride to Harvard baby!” Topper shook his head, chewing on his lobster as he laughed. Y/N hummed, taking another drink, glancing at her untouched plate. She had lost her appetite when she had figured out who her parents arranged the date with. Then, her appetite disappeared altogether when she spotted the blonde boy sitting inside the restaurant with none other than Bethany Stewart - an overzealous and unnecessarily perky cheerleader in their year.

Lips loosely around the straw, Y/N found her eyes drifting over to the window, looking at the two. She could have sworn she had seen JJ quickly turn his head from the corner of her eye, but by the way he was looking at Bethany, those wild eyes that could never be pulled away from her were now on Bethany. “Nobody is that happy all the time, life isn’t that good,” Y/N thought bitterly in her head, pessimism taking over as it usually did. “Ugh, it’s not her fault. Stop being so misogynistic and inherently negative, Y/N!” She scolded herself, looking over at Topper who barely noticed her attention veering off.

“But, I’ve also been told that my swimming could get me more options for full-ride scholarships-” Topper was still rambling.

“I’m sorry, but why do you need a full-ride scholarship? You’re filthy rich, Topper! I’m not as rich as you are, I'm barely upper middle class and I’m not trying for scholarships because there are people who need it more.” She cut him off, talking for the first time past the word ‘Hi’.

Topper looked at her, shocked by her sudden outburst. “Uh-” He blinked, mouth agape, not used to being called out for his ignorance. “I don’t know what to say here.” He admitted, blonde eyebrows furrowed.

“You don’t have to say anything, Topper,” She sighed, forehead falling into her hand as she propped her elbow on the table. Eyes closed, she dragged in a deep breath before letting it out. She could feel eyes on her. Two sets. One from directly across from her and one from inside the restaurant. A swirl of butterflies and conflicted feelings ignited within her stomach at the thought of his concerned eyes on her - but she pushed it down. “I’m sorry, I just have some shit going on in my personal life and a blind date set up by my mother is not helping it at all.”

Topper, seeming to come out of his shock, reached his hand across the table, pointer finger lightly touching Y/N’s elbow in a way to pull her attention towards him. Startled, she lifted her head, eyes bugging out slightly. “I get it. No offence, but I didn’t really want to come on this date either. I’m still caught up on Sarah actually,” He admitted rather shamefully. “But you get it, the pressure and persistence of your parents.”

“I do get it.” She agreed with a slight nod. Pulling her elbow off the table, she sat up, eyes trained on the table in front of her because she didn’t trust them not to wander over towards JJ and his date.

“He’s been watching you, you know,” Topper spoke, making her lift her eyes to him. “JJ, he can’t seem to take his eyes off you. I feel kind of bad for Bethany, but it doesn’t seem like she’s all that upset about it.”

“I don’t think Bethany can be upset. She’s so fucking optimistic, I’m a little jealous,” She laughed. Topper chuckled along with her, his head shaking slightly. “I wish my brain would automatically think of the best case scenario. Or even see the best in a situation.”

“Look, why don’t you stay here while I go in to pay, then we go back to my place and drink away the shit going on in our personal lives? Sounds good?” Topper pushed his chair back as a smile twitched at the corners of Y/N’s lips.

“Sounds good.” She confirmed, watching as he walked inside the restaurant, pulling out his wallet. Her eyes followed him through the window, before continuing to land on the only blonde boy who held her heart. His striking blue eyes were on her, narrowed as he observed her before jumping to Topper - ignoring whatever Bethany was saying to evaluate the situation.

Sighing, she shook her head, looking down at her skirt-clad lap. “I wish you would come back to me.” She muttered under her breath, blinking back tears as they welled up.

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chemicalalice · 2 years

Text

Fic: Family Affairs - Kinktober Day 5 - Breeding Kink

Title: Family Affairs

Summary: Family drama threatens to destroy what little Luke has with you

Pairing: Luke Tillerson x female!Reader

Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, swearing, dirty talk, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy. Please be mindful of yourself and do not read if this content bothers you. 18+ only!

Word count: 4140

AN: I feel like the drama between the Tillersons and the Abbotts in Outer Range is the perfect 'star crossed lovers' set up. So of course I had to try my hand at it. And have two gifs just because.

Luke Tillerson had been in love with you since before he knew what love was. And even before then, he always craved your attention; good or bad. He couldn't count the number of pigtails he pulled, both literally and figuratively, just to have you look at him.

He was in love with you, and wanted to scream it to the world. Instead he had to sneak around and pretend like you meant nothing to him; all because of the dislike your fathers held for one another.

You were the only daughter Royal had, so it made sense that you would be a daddy's girl. It didn't matter how old you got, you would always be the man's little girl. Having two protective older brothers didn't help matters much either. It wasn't the black eye or broken nose he knew he would get if Rhett found out Luke was sleeping with his baby sister. You respected your father and brothers, respected what they had to say. It was the fear that they would be able to convince you not to see him anymore that had him desperate to keep your relationship from your families.

The situation bred a lot of insecurity in him. You were a beautiful woman, and that beauty didn't just run skin deep. You were smart as hell, loyal to a fault, and kind as all get out. Luke, on the other hand, was more uptight and reserved. He knew he was good looking and could turn on the charm when he needed to, but it didn't come naturally to him. He had always been all business. Women preferred the smooth seduction of Trevor, or even the awkward boyish charm of Billy, over him. Luke had always been the consolation prize, and he knew even then it was because of the sizable bank account that came attached to the Tillerson name.

You were different, though. You couldn't care less about money, or his name. You had always seen Luke for who he was. So far, it had been enough for you. He had been enough for you. But he felt like he was living on borrowed time. One day you would wake up and realize that you wanted more than stolen moments with son of your father's enemy; and that there were plenty of men ready to provided. Men who smiled easier and worked less. Men who were better at telling you how much you drove them crazy; how much you truly meant to them.

He did his best to keep things calm, if frosty, between the two families. Because when things got stirred up between the Abbott and Tillerson patriarchs, it was even more difficult to see you. Unfortunately, it couldn't get more stirred than when Wayne Tillerson made a grab for Royal's land. It may have been just business for the Tillerson's, but for you, land and family went hand and hand.

The look of fury you had shot him over that fence when he and his brothers had driven out to turn over the county assessment to your father had killed him. And all he could do was stand there, helpless, as his brother mouthed off like the asshole he was.

You had spat at Trevor's feet, mounted up and ridden off, Trevor hollering after you to give him a call if you needed to work off any steam. Trevor had always had a thing for you, but what he really loved was how his obvious interest pissed Rhett off even more. The clench of Royal's fists at his side indicated he didn't much like Trevor's disrespect of his daughter anymore than Rhett did. Luke felt sick to his stomach as he tried to smooth things over after that exchange, all the while feeling like as big of an asshole as his brother was.

You didn't respond to the text he sent when he got back to the house. He wasn't surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised. But when the next twenty texts and five calls he made over the following three days also went unanswered, he had to fight back the acid that had started to churn in his gut. He wanted to drive over and pound on your door; to demand that you talk to him; to give him a chance to talk to his father, or at least not hold him responsible for his father's actions.

He wanted to give you the space he knew you needed, but when the following Friday rolled around and he saw you at the bar, his resolve wore thin.

Your white shirt was tinged pink from the glow of the bar lights, and Luke watched as you laughed, head tipped back, with Maria and none other than Jake Sutton. Luke's knuckles turned white when his grip on his beer bottle tightened as he took in the scene before him, and he missed the knowing look in Billy's eyes.

Jake was another one of your long time admirers and a rodeo friend of Rhett's. He was tall, fit, and almost as filthy rich as Luke himself. And, perhaps most importantly of all, he was a good guy. If you put Jack and Luke side by side, it wouldn't take a genius to see who the real catch was.

Jake's hand came to rest on the small of your back and Luke shot up, the scrap of his chair against the wood floor being drowned out by the loud music playing over head. The bile in his stomach rose.

"What the fuck is up with you?" Trevor drawled as he eyed his brother, his attention leaving his blonde companion's cleave for the first time that night.

"Gotta take a piss," Luke muttered. He made sure he passed direct behind you as he stormed to the bathroom but your eyes never left the man you were standing with.

Luke shoved open the bathroom door, not caring that it slammed shut behind him as he made his way to the sink. He curled his hands around the cool porcelain and dropped his head. He breathing was hard, and he took a moment to steady it before raising his head to stare at himself in the mirror.

How many times had you both been out at the same bar? You with your brothers and he with his. How many times had he watched men approach you, only to be turned away. How many times had he gone up to the bar for another drink just for the chance to stand next to you for few moment, to smell your perfume over the spilled beer, both of you pretending not to notice the other, simply because it was the only chance he would have to see you that day? It had been fine all those other times. It sucked, but it was ok; or at least bearable. Why did tonight feel so different?

You had assured him, time and time again, that he was the only one warming your bed. He had always believed you. But never before had there been a literal 600 acres of anger between you. And now you were letting Jake Sutton buy you a drink.

Luke didn't want to leave the bathroom. But he knew Billy would come looking for him if he was gone too long. And he told himself it was an accident, caused by a Friday night crowd, when he jostled Jake's shoulder as he made his way back to his table.

He didn't bother to pretend he wasn't watching you as he sat back down with his brothers. Trevor didn't remain much longer. He was leading the blonde out of the bar and Luke knew he wasn't going to see the man again until the next morning. Billy sat quietly with him, though; the other girls who had been at their table losing interest now that Trever was gone.

"Are you gonna go talk to her?" His younger brother finally asked.

"Talk to who?" Was Luke's gruff reply.

Billy rolled his eyes. "You know who."

"No, Billy, I don't." It was a stupid thing to say considering his eyes hadn't moved from you and Jake.

"I seen you two together once, you know? Awhile back. I ain't completely stupid Luke. And I know by the fact I ain't ever seen you with another woman that you are pretty damn serious about her."

"And how the fuck do you figure that, huh Billy? You seen us once, 'awhile back' and you think you know everything there is to know?" It wasn't fair that he was taking his anger out on Billy, of all people. But he had been on edge for days, and he felt like he was ready to snap. And now finding out his brother had known about you and Luke made him even angrier. If Billy knew, did anyone else?

Billy rocked back on the legs of his chair and crossed his arms across his chest, leveling and unimpressed look at his brother. "I'm sure because when ever Trevor makes some asshole comments about you not being interested in women, you still don't pick anyone up, even just to shut him up. And I'm sure because despite the fact that every single guy in the fucking county had been trying to get into her pants, she doesn't date anyone. Ever.

"Look man, I know why you feel like you need to keep things under wraps, and that this week probably fucked stuff up even more. But this shit is between the dad and Royal. And what they fuck do you care what Trevor and Rhett think anyway?"

Luke turned, finally, to face his brother, pain clear on his face. "She doesn't want people to know."

"Really? Have you really ever talked about it? Cause I get a feeling this is probably you and your hyper fixation on the need for control projecting what you think onto her."

Luke blinked as he stared across from his brother. He laid back, carefree brother who always had his head in the clouds. But before he could say anything, the familiar dopey grin was spreading across Billy's face. "Hey man, your probably right. What do I know. But I don't think Trevor is coming home tonight and you know I mind my own business so," a shrug, "whatever, right?"

Movement from across the bar drew Luke's attention back to you. Jake was leaning in, arm sliding from you back to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he leaned his head down to put his mouth against your ear. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on, what was being said.

Luke's chair scrapped against the floor for the second time that night as his jealousy and longing finally boiled over. He knew in his gut that tonight, for the first time in your life you weren't going to say no. And like fuck was he going to allow that to happen. Within second he was striding over, his hand falling heavily on your shoulder, not caring about the looks he was getting from the other bar patrons.

"We need to talk," he growled, forcing himself in between you and Jake.

You arched a brow. "No, Tillerson," and wasn't that just a slap to his face, "we don't."

"Hey man," Jake began and Luke held up a hand, eyes not leaving yours, to cut the man off.

"Please, sweetheart, don't do this. Just come outside, and let's talk." Sweetheart. It was out of his mouth before he realized it. Most guys threw it around like it meant nothing. The shy girl at the grocery store you wanted to make blush; the rodeo nurse; the cute girl at the bar they were trying to pick up. It meant nothing to most people. But he didn't use it with you. Not in public. You felt like the air was sucked out of the room, and when it returned, everything was going to be changed.

You slid from your stool, and laid a hand on Jake's arm when he began to protest. "It's fine Jake. I won't be gone long." It was a challenge, a taunt. An ominous promise that Luke didn't want to see play out. Wouldn't let play out.

And it was with striking clarity that he knew he wasn't going to let you go. Families be damned. He was in love with you. You were all he had ever wanted, and he was sick of hiding it.

He stood straighter, Tillerman confidence returning in a wave. You must have seen the sudden change, because when he reached out and grabbed your wrist, tugging you towards the door, you let him. And as his hand slipped down to yours, fingers tangling in plain view for most of Wabang to see, you let him.

The air was chilly as you left the bar, causing you to shiver slightly. You hadn't grabbed your jacket, but Luke didn't slow down until reached his truck and pulled open the passenger side door. "Get in."

You hesitated. It felt like a fork in the road. But what lay ahead on each path, you couldn't see. Luke's eyes were intense as he stared into yours. He was practically vibrating with tension and out of the corner of you eye you saw his fist clench. If in that moment he had reached for you, you knew you would have pushed him aside and went back in the bar, not willing to let any man think he could force you into anything. But his hand only twitched toward you before settling back at his side. The choice was entirely on you.

With what felt like agonizing slowness, you pulled yourself up into his truck. The door shut quickly behind you, signaling there was no way to change your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the years you has known him, you had never been inside the Tillerman house, let alone in Luke's bedroom. Now, you were perched awkwardly on the side of his bed, watching him pace back and forth in front of you. Part of you wanted to reach out to him. To comfort him. But the louder part of you, the Abbott part, wanted to make him suffer.

Deep down, you already knew you were ready to forgive him. Hell, deep down you knew none of it was his fault to begin with. But you were stubborn, and hurt; you weren't going to give him an inch.

He finally stopped and sunk down on the bed beside you. "I hate this."

"Yeah well, you aren't the one getting land stolen from you so..." It was a petty. But you didn't care.

"It's not- God!" He was up on his feet again, the pacing faster, angrier. He opened his mouth to speak but froze, his jaw snapping shut as he stared down you, and you tried no to fidget under his steady gaze.

It was like standing off with a mountain lion, and just like with a mountain lion, he was on you before you realized he had moved. The air was pushed out of your lungs under his weight as he forced you back on the bed, his mouth moving frantically over yours, hands buried in your hair, holding your head to his.

He reared back suddenly, reaching down and getting a grip on your outer thighs and hoisted you back further into the bed. His body covered your, arms caging you in as he kissed you again. You could feel his erection, hard against your thigh.

You really had wanted to talk. But you also knew that if that was truly what you had wanted, you should have stayed at the bar. Getting into his truck had been been unspoken permission for him to fuck you when you got to wherever he had been taking you. You both knew that. Maybe it was for the best. You two always did the best talking with your bodies.

His Hands were at your waist now, tugging at your shirt and separating from you long enough to pull it over you head. He unclipped your bra with one, practiced movement and that too was being tossed off the side of the bed.

His lips traveled from your mouth to your neck and down to your breasts, where he circled his tongue around one stiffened nipple, giving it slow suck before traveling to the other and repeating the process. When he began kissing down your stomach, you threaded your fingers in his hair and tugged him off of you, bringing his mouth back up to yours before you gripped the fronts of his shirt and ripped. You could hear the spray of buttons as they popped off his shirt and hit the floor. The shirt was probably new, probably cost close to a hundred bucks; you should have felt bad about ruining it, but at that moment all you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.

There was nothing romantic or seductive in the way you stripped each other of the remaining clothes. It was rough, frantic, and needy. When you were both naked he flipped you on your stomach and hauled your ass up into the air.

You had had your fair share of sexual partners when you were away at college, back before you returned to Wabang and whatever it was that had always hung between you and Luke turned serious. But he was hands down the best lover you had ever had. Your pleasure was his goal, and the amount of foreplay he engaged in, the amount of orgasms he would pull from your body before he even let you lay a finger on him always left you breathless.

Tonight, though, there was none of that. He had himself lined up and pushing into you as soon as you were up on your knees. It was easy; even though he had barely touched you, you were still soaking wet for him. You always were.

He didn't give you any time to adjust to the intrusion before he was thrusting roughly, he sound of his pelvis hitting you ass with each push filled the room, and the sound of his cock moving in your wet cunt had him cursing. "Jesus fucking Christ, I missed this pussy," he bit out. "Don't you ever fucking leave me on read like that again. Do you understand?"

You didn't appreciate that he suddenly wanted to talk, not when you finally had his dick in you. "Shut the fuck up, Luke! Fucking make me cum or get the fuck off me."

Luke chuckled. "Oh don't worry sweetheart, I won't leave you hanging." One of the hands that had been gripping your waist slid down underneath you. A shock ran through your body as his fingers grazed gently over your clit before settling into a rhythm.

"Oh god, oh god," you moaned, and then you were cumming. Luke's grip on you shifted and he pulled you upright, one arm wrapped around your chest, holding you flush to him, while the other splayed possessively across your belly as he fucked your through your orgasm.

Luke slowed his pace, fucking up into you deep and steady. You could feel his heart beat where his chest was pressed tightly to your back. He nuzzled the side of your head, his lips brushing lightly against your ear.

"Did you have fun tonight? Flirting with some other guy right in front of me?" His voice was low, and the arm he had around your chest shifted slightly, allowing him to wrap his hand gently around your throat. He didn't wait for an answer. He didn't truly need one.

"I'm sick of this, baby. Sick of hiding it. Sick of other guys thinking they even have a chance with you. Sick of no one knowing you're mine. 'Cause you are mine, and I ain't gonna ever let anyone else have you."

His name fell from your lips in a quiet gasp, cunt clenching around his cock at the possessive tone of his words. You had always known he had a jealous streak, but had never really seen it. Not like this. In the eyes of the public, there was nothing for him to even be jealous of.

Luke flexed the fingers of the hand still on your belly. "You know what I should do, sweetheart? I should fuck a baby into you. Let everybody see this belly swell with my child. Then they'd know you belong to me." He sucked in a breath. "A big fucking reminder." Each word punctuated with a rough punch of his hips.

He released his grip on your throat and pushed you back down on the bed, the push and pull of his hips speeding up again. "I will stuff you full of my cum until it takes. Ain't much your daddy could do about me being a Tillerson then" he growled.

His weight was driving you into the bed, forcing you to just take what he was giving. Luke had never been like this with you before, and if you didn't know him, didn't know with complete belief he would never hurt you, his intensity would be alarming. Even then, you were grateful you were on the the pill; because if you weren't you had no doubt he would make good on his words that night. And the small, most instinctual part of you craved it, just as much as he did. The realization of that desire was sudden and the heat it filled you with was enough to tip you over the edge.

Luke drove his hips into you one final time as he felt you cum around him, pussy walls ripping, and then he was grunting loudly as he reached his own release. He stayed still as he came, pulling your hips tight to his, and you swore you could feel every pulse of cum as it shot into your womb.

He maneuvered himself carefully, ensuring he stayed buried inside you as he rolled you on to your side and held you close.

Neither one of you spoke for a long while, and you didn't even realize you had dozed off until he was pressing a kiss into the junction of you nect and shoulder, jolting you back to awareness.

"Are you ok? Did I hurt you?" His voice was soft, tinged with worry. This was the Luke you were you used to; soft and reverent.

"No. I'm fine," you murmured in reply.

You could hear him sigh. "I meant what I said before," he began slowly. He sounded as if he were unsure of his words. The arm wrapped around you tightened slightly, and you realized it wasn't himself he was unsure of, of his words, of his feelings, but of you, and your reaction to whatever he was going to say.

"I love you. And I want to be with you. Properly. I want..." he sighed again. "I want to marry you, goddamn it! I want to raise a family with you! I want to come home to you every night and build something good together."

You felt tears prickling your eyes and you rolled to face him. The action caused him to slip out of you, and the dribble of cum that slipped out with him caused a brief flash of regret in your chest at the wasted potential.

"Luke, your father-"

"Fuck my father!" His words weren't loud, but they were filled with desperation. "I don't care if he fucking disowns me! I don't care about the money or any of it. I just want to be with you! I don't want to ever have to see you with another guy like tonight again. I thought my heart was going to break. I thought you were done with me. Please, baby. Please...."

You did not cry easily; you were Royal Abbott's daughter, after all. But his words, his clear despair, had tears slipping down your cheeks, and when you leaned up to kiss him, your lips were wet and salty. "I want that too, Luke. All of it. I want it with you."

His smile was wobbly as he looked back at you, hope filling his eyes. "Starting now, no more hiding." You couldn't remember the last time he looked so... carefree. Like he didn't have the weight of the world pressing down on him. It was unbelievable to think that you were worth so much to him that you had that kind of power over him.

You pressed into his side, tucking your head under his chin as his arms came up around you again. "No more hiding," you agreed, hand pressing over his heart. He may not realize it, but he had that same power over you.

TAG LIST:

@barbiegirlbaby

#luke tillerson #luke tillerson x reader #outer range #fic #chemy writes #kinktober 2022 #tppkinktober2022

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lords-of-mayhem · 1 day

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Lords Of Chaos + Hozier Songs

Lords Of Chaos characters as Hozier songs <3 (all gifs by me)

Øystein "Euronymous" Aarseth // Jackie And Wilson

So deep in this swill with the most familiar of swine, for reasons wretched and divine. No other version of me I would pretend to be tonight. 'Cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done, I need to be youthfully felt 'cause God, I never felt young. Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside. We tried the world, good God, it wasn't for us.

Kristian "Varg" Vikernes // Dinner And Diatribes

Honey, this club here is stuck up, dinner and diatribes. I knew it from the first look of, the look of mischief in your eyes. Your friends are a fate that befell me, head is a talking type. I'd suffer Hell if you'd tell me what you'd do to me tonight. Let there be hotels complaints and grievances raised, let there be damage ensued and tabloid news.

Ann-Marit // Unknown/Nth

Funny how true colors shine in darkness and in secrecy. If there were scarlet flags, they washed down in the mind of me. Where a blinding light shone on you every night. And either side of my sleep, where you were held frozen like an angel to me. It ain't the being alone, you know I'm good on my own. You know, it's more the being unknown. So much of the living, love, is the being unknown.

Jan Axel "Hellhammer" Blomberg // Shrike

I fled to the city with so much discounted. Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now. Back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted. I was housed by your warmth, thus transformed by your grounded and giving and darkening scorn. Remember me, love, when I'm reborn as a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn.

Jørn "Necrobutcher" Stubberud // All Things End

If there was anyone to ever get through this life with their heart still intact, they didn't do it right. The last time I felt your weight on my chest, you said, "we didn't get it right, but love, we did our best." And all things end, all that we intend is scrawled in sand or slips right through our hands. And just knowing that everything will end should not change our plans. I have never known a silence like the one fallen here, never watched my future darken in a single tear.

Attila Csihar // Wildflower And Barley

Springtime in the country. Each time, I'm shocked by the light. I can smell summer on its breath, low and harrowed lie the fields and the heart of me. The canal banks are empty again, the grass crying out to be heated by bodies, the streets for the laughter of young women and men. With all things God allows remain above ground like grief and sweet memory, wildflower and barley.

Pelle "Dead" Ohlin // From Eden

Babe, there's something so tragic about you, something so magic about you. Don't you agree? Babe, there's something lonesome about you. No tired sigh, no rolling eyes. No irony, no "who cares?" No vacant stare, no time for me. Idealism sits in prison, innocence died screaming. Honey, ask me, I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door.

Snorre "Blackthorn" Ruch // Would That I

True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me, that the sound of the saw must be known by the tree. I fretted fire, but that was long ago. And it's not tonight where I'm set alight, and I blink in sight of your blinding light. With the roar of the fire, my heart rose to its feet like the ashes of ash I saw rise in the heat. Settle soft and as pure as snow, I fell in love with the fire long ago. With each love I cut loose, I was never the same, watching still living roots be consumed by the flame.

Kjetil Manheim // Almost (Sweet Music)

I came in from the outside, burned out from a joyride. She likes to roll here in my ashes anyway. I got some color back, she thinks so too. I laugh like me again, she laughs like you. I wouldn't know where to start, sweet music playing in the dark. Be still my foolish heart, don't ruin this on me.. The very thought of you in midnight blue, a love supreme seems far removed. I get along very well without you some other nights. She'll turn to me, awake, and ask "is everything alright?"

Bård "Faust" Eithun // Like Real People Do

I had a thought, dear, however scary. About that night, the bugs and the dirt. Why were you digging? What did you bury before those hands pulled me from the Earth? I knew that look, dear, eyes always seeking. So, I will not ask you why you were creeping. In some sad way, I already know. So, I will not ask you where you came from, I would not ask and neither would you. Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We should just kiss like real people do.

Stian "Occultus" Johansen // Damage Gets Done

I heard once, it's the comforts that make us feel numb. We'd go out with no way to get home and we'd sleep on somebody's floor, and wake up feeling like a millionaire. Wish I'd known it was just our turn, being blamed for a world we had no power in. You and I had nothing to show but the best of the world in the palm of our hands. I don't know how the feeling ended, but I know being reckless and young is not how the damage gets done.

Gylve "Fenriz" Nagell // Arsonist's Lullaby

When I was a child, I'd sit for hours staring into open flame. Something in it had a power, could barely tear my eyes away. All you have is your fire and the place you need to reach. Don't ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash. When I was sixteen, my senses fooled me. Thought gasoline was on my clothes, I knew that something would always rule me. I knew the scent was mine alone.

Jon "Metalion" Kristiansen // I Could Be Yours

I could be soft and sweet, I could be hard and loud. I could be anything you ever need somehow. Why don't you hear me sing out from the lost and found? Why don't you try on me? Why don't you take me home? I'll match the color scheme of your bedroom walls.

#playlist #lords of chaos

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ronearoundblindly · 2 years

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The Dignity of His Choice (8)

[sorry for the delay, the majority of this chapter was hand-written and took a while to type up]

Badge, Part One (see previous or series)

gif by @justconfettiandsomeddew; dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Steve's three months alone. (Warnings for annnngst)

“So I’m standing there—” Steve sniffs in the frigid, late-morning air “—ring in my pocket, praying she doesn’t touch me, though Lor’ knows I wouldn’a been that mad, and it nearly—” he grunts to heave the bucket of fresh water up the bank until a plateau “—scraps the whole plan.”

Steve laughs softly, climbing back up the mostly frozen ground to get a good handle on the bucket.

“‘Course, little did I know I’d of had just as much luck at that moment as the actual, planned version. Fireworks display. Two goons in the woods scaring the stuffin’ outta her. All that without me telling anyone.”

He makes his way back to the cabin, coughing every now and then from the dry scratch of his throat. He had an asthma attack for the first time in almost a century last week, so he takes it slow on the steep terrain.

“Gah,” he huffs, pausing within view of his tiny, makeshift home of…he’s lost count of the days, honestly. “I’m surprised she even said yes.”

Steve gets the water inside, partially filling the wash basin first, but letting it all sit and warm slightly before he braves a drink. From his pocket he pulls out his compass, which he no longer needs to orient himself within a five-mile radius, and sets it beside the basin, open.

“You’d’a loved her, Pegs.”

When he first came here, Steve lamented never changing out the black and white photo of Agent Carter for yours. Long ago you swore up and down that it was crucial Steve keep reminders of his life—his whole life—all around, and you knew Peggy was a big part of that. So he kept the little token in place as a testament to how far he’d come. Now he’s glad. If he had changed the photo, if he spoke to you as if you were here, he’d have gone insane already.

Peggy is like the Howling Commandos; Steve knows she’s not here and she’s never coming back, but you… He needs to hope you’re coming back, or rather, that he’s going back to you. He doesn’t want scrambled memories of things he actually told you and things he muttered to an inanimate bit of tin clasped at his side, but it’s too quiet. He can’t say nothing for months on end.

Instead, he focuses on water, food, and fire.

His normal spot on the stream was too narrow and completely froze over a while ago, so it takes him more of the already shortened daylight hours to handle the water portion of survival. As for food, he’s somewhat unwillingly connected to his Irish roots while out here, finding and maintaining Bucky’s potato farm that exists in the crawl space below the cabin's floorboards. Steve found Megaspud early on, ate what he could, and used the rest for fertilizer. He maintains even a small fire (which luckily doesn’t produce light outside the cabin) in order to keep the ground beneath the structure from freezing.

To say Steve’s been ‘eating lean’ would be like saying people went on a fad diet during the Depression. His body shows it finally, after so long, though he’s by no means the skinny thing he used to be. The serum can’t maintain the bulk of his normal physique without more sustenance, and without all the help the serum can offer, his body reverts to some old habits. Hence, an asthma attack in winter on the tundra that took him by such surprise he had to dredge up memories of how to help himself without medical assistance. He did not miss how scary those things are. Not one bit.

Steve takes it easy. He hates it. He’s miserable, and even though the days are shorter, everything drags on and on and on.

He should be able to handle this.

He’s not. Not well at least.

He reminds himself every single sunrise that you are safe because he’s alone here without you. He reminds himself every single sunset that you are not alone even though he isn’t there with you.

Steve also reminds himself that he chose this—you did not—so he compresses all his discomfort, his annoyance, and his hopelessness into a pit in his stomach that likely weighs more than his actual body at this point.

He doesn’t talk to a photograph of you, and he tries so, so hard not to think of you too much because by now he can’t get Buck’s questions out of his head. What if you hurt yourself? What if you move on? What if you already—no. He just can’t.

There are only two ways nights go for Steve Rogers out in the woods: he dreams of you or he has horrible nightmares. One is both, your scream at his funeral. They are all equally painful, and he dreads sleeping. He just has nothing else to do.

He’s jolted awake by that mourning wail he’s memorized. It’s still dark. In the back of his mind, your cry is still dying out, and Steve can even feel the force of your breath at his neck as if you’re right behind him, matching in misery.

He sits up covered in a cold sweat that only gets colder. He suppresses another coughing fit because he still aims to keep quiet at night in case—

In case there are footsteps…

Which…there are.

He doesn’t move until he can hear the rhythm. It’s not an animal. The sounds are too heavy and clumsy.

Steve slides himself through the trap door to his potato farm and out the crawl space opening in the back corner. He know a particular path of roots and rocks, things that he can step on without crunching any snow.

He feels like an idiot. He didn’t grab Nat’s pistol, but he’s not used to reaching for a weapon, just his shield, and he only brought the one Wakandan mantle for himself from the quinjet. Taking both would have been too obvious.

Steve makes his way around the tree line carefully to see the approaching threat. The moonlight is strong enough to give him away to a trained eye. If they have infrared or night vision, Steve’s already made, but he operates as if not.

Two figures slowly move forward, no weapons that he can see. They don’t split up to flank the cabin.

Then they do stop, right in the middle of the open patch that could loosely be defined as a front yard. Strategically, that’s nonsensical, but Steve will take an opening to attack wherever he can.

All Steve hears is “give me hi—“ and he thinks they are arguing about who gets control of him first. Like hell if he’s been out here this long just to be taken prisoner, so he lunges straight for the smaller figure.

And then a hood falls down.

A gun goes up into his face.

The moonlight hits as the other figure turns to him.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go. You were never supposed to see him like this.

“What are you doing here,” Steve rasps to Bucky. The plan explicitly required no one ever find out about Buck’s cabin. He and Bucky agreed that Steve would just be brought home. “Why did you bring her?”

This is wrong. Steve’s not ready. He’s a wreck. He’s a shell of who he’s supposed to be, of who you remember, of who you deserve.

But you are here.

“Is it over?” He turns to Bucky, the gun lowering as his friend juts out his head toward the cabin. He’s grateful Buck takes the lead to get you inside because Steve’s suddenly all too aware of how baggy and dingy his layered sweaters are. He’s grown a beard, and his hair is long over his ears. His skin is probably paler than a ghost with a stripe of red sunburn across his cheeks. He’s dirty.

His shame and embarrassment take him over to the wash basin instead of you. He can’t look at your face in the smoldering firelight. Bucky sits you down and takes post at the window.

You’ve said nothing, not a single word, and since Steve is fixated on scrubbing the ingrained dirt off his face, he waits.

Bucky strides away from the window to whisper (proper super-soldier whispering that no human even an inch away could hear), “there was an incident. She had a knife.”

“What?” Steve’s voice is gruff, flat and disbelieving.

“Stark told me when I landed.”

Steve just falls at your feet, grasping at your hands, pulling the thick sleeves of your jacket back and over a watch, trying to find scars or bandages. “Keeps, what happened?”

He finally lifts his head to look you in the eye, and you stare, gaze flickering across all his changed features before landing down at his hands in yours.

“I wanted cake.”

It’s your voice. It’s so simple, just three words, and it is everything. It’s also—wait, cake?

Steve bursts out laughing, tipping backwards to sit on the floor, hands slapping over his mouth to smother the sound. He throws his arms wide and turns to Bucky. “She wanted cake,” he practically sings. His whole body shakes with amusement, his first real laugh in months.

Your brow creases in anger while he howls which only makes him happier, unfortunately. You’re so you, and he so loves you.

“Steven Grant Rogers.”

You’re so stern; Steve just can’t help smiling up at you. You move to cup his face in both hands very tightly. He can tell how weak he is by how much he feels the pressure of your palms in his hollow cheeks.

You give his head a little shake, leaning forward to get close, eyes watery and glistening with unfallen tears. “Where the fuck have you been?”

A whiff of your shampoo hits him like a freight train. His heart races. That pit in his stomach starts to form its own gravitational field. He’s barely Steve Rogers.

“Hell, love.” He gently places his hands over yours. “I’ve been in hell.”

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza

[Next part]

#steve rogers fic #steve x reader #steve rogers #fanfic #fools rush in #steve x you #steve rogers fanfiction #series #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #captain america x you

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itsthestutterforme · 2 years

Text

Indenial [2/3]

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own

Jim will never forget how he felt when finally mustered up the courage to win you back, and he saw your empty house with a for sale sign on the front lawn.

You were gone, and he had no idea where you went.

“You don’t tell him anything,” your older sister, Mina, commands you. “Why not?” “Y/N, he cheated on you. You don’t owe him anything.” “He didn’t cheat, okay?! He didn’t.” You snapped, crossing your arms. “Look,” your other sister, Juniper, starts. “Think of this as a fresh start. A new place. New job. New friends.”

“You deserve this, boo.” Juniper adds, rubbing circles on your back. “What if something happens and he needs me?” You ask. “Like what?” “Mina, please,” you snark. “What?” “You never have anything nice or positive to say, that’s what. And I don’t need that right now, so if that’s all you’re going to contribute, you should just get out.” You snap.

Juniper was by your side the entire time and the two of you stared at Mina angrily. “I don’t mean to be negative, alright? I hate seeing you cry like that. I just get so… protective. I’m sorry.” She sits next to you on the couch and grabs a hold of your hand. “Maybe moving to a new town isn’t such a bad idea,” she states.

You both sighed in defeat and you close your eyes for a moment. “Okay, say I wanted to move away, what about finding a house or better yet a job to pay for said house?” You inquired. “I’ve already found us an apartment in Staten Island. It’s a four bedroom, two and a half bath. I’ve talked with the realtor about it.” Mina stated.

“Wow, so you knew that I would say yes?” “We we’re banking on it. But one can never know with you,” Juniper teases. “Hey!” You said, hitting her with a pillow. “I just.. I thought he was the one, you know? I don’t see myself with anyone else..” “I know it hurts, girl. But eventually, it gets easier and you it won’t hurt as much.” Juniper consoles.

“You’re right. You both are. There’s nothing left for me here.”

It’s close to the anniversary of Sarah’s passing, it was five days away. And you didn’t like the idea of Hop being alone. He’s not the type to go out and ask for help. He would retreat inward and spend days in the house. It’s been close to 10 months since you last stepped foot in Hawkins.

So you pitched the idea to your sisters to go back to Hawkins to visit Mom. Mina eyed you suspiciously before asking if I wasn’t trying to head back to Hawkins to see Jim. You stayed as calm as possible before saying how you’ve been talking to mom more frequently and she says that she missed us, which was true.

She continued to eye you for any tells but you kept your cool and she eventually bought it. Thank God.

By the time you arrived, it was ten at night. You all were exhausted from the twelve hour car ride, but your mother was ecstatic to see you so it was worth it.

The next day Mom wanted to make sheppard’s pie, your favorite. You offered to the go the grocery store to get everything. Juniper offered to go with you, probably because of Mina. She didn’t want you going out looking for Jim. To avoid getting backlash, you let her come with you.

She hops into the passenger side and you shift the car into reverse. “How you holding up?” She asks to break the silence. “You don’t have to worry about me, June.” “I know, but I like to check on you anyway.” “I’m alright,” you stated, leaning back in the seat and steering the wheel with just your pointer finger and your thumb.

“Girls Just Want to Have Fun” plays on the radio in the silence until June rolls down the window. “Who knew that someone can miss the smell of cow shit,” she retorts, making the two of you laugh.

“The smell can be pungent, but it’s home.” You remind. “True,” “Have you thought about going on that date with..” “James, and no I haven’t. He’s.. he’s a good guy, but I’m just not ready.” “Don’t let Mina hear that,” “Mina needs to mind her own business and stay out of mine.”

“She’s just trying to look out for you,” “No, she’s projecting her mistakes onto me. And that’s not fair to me,” you pull into the parking lot of the grocery store. “Well have you told her how you felt?” She trails after you when you abruptly left the car.

“Oh please, and have her lecture me again?” You grabbed ahold of a cart and made your way to the produce section. “It’s like she doesn’t trust me to make my own decisions. Like I’m a teen all over again. I am thirty three years old.” You grabbed a package of corn. “I get that. She just doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice say. Slowly turning your head, you saw Jim with stove popcorn packs in his hands. Your heart quickened under his gaze. “Jim,” you said as he neared you, taking all of you in. You wore black jeans, a loose dress shirt and tan boots. A little bit dresser than what you used to wear.

He wore his sheriff uniform you loved so much. You noticed that he lost a little bit of weight and cleaned up his beard. He looked good. You wondered if Joyce had anything to do with that. But deep down you knew it was best not knowing.

“Hi,” you start. “Hey,” Juniper took that as a cue to walk to the other end of the grocery store. “You look.. amazing,” he trails off. “You look great yourself,” he takes a step closer to you. His tongue darts across his plump bottom lip. “How have you been?” “Eh, I’ve been better. But it’s nice to be back home.”

“Yeah, it is.. where were you, if you don’t mind me asking?” “New York,” “New York?! But that’s like-“ “Twelve hours away, yeah. The drive was not the best.” “I bet,” there was a pause where the two of you think through what you wanted to say.

“Come by tonight,” he takes another step and you don’t move a muscle. “I shouldn’t,” “You know you want to,” he whispers once he was close enough. “I thought you would have moved on without me,” “You could be gone ten years, and it’ll never change how I feel about you.”

“Hoppy,” you clapped a hand over your mouth before you could stop yourself. “I’m so sorry, it just came out. I didn’t mean to-“ “It’s okay, Y/N,” he chuckles and butterflies erupted in your stomach. “Come by tonight,” he repeats. “Only if you get dinner from the Creole place I like,” “Deal,” He stares down at your lips for a moment before meeting your gaze once again.

With that, he went to the front of the store where the clerks were, leaving you completely flabbergasted in the produce section. “Well damn,” Juniper says, returning to your side. “You could cut that tension with a butcher knife,” she adds.

#black!reader #stranger things #jim hopper x black!reader

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