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justafoxhound · 1 year ago

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Falloutober: 10. Terminal

From @falloutober 's 2023 prompt list.

Part 2 of my little extra content where my LW Talia managed to hire Jericho to escort her to Tenpenny Tower.

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“Fuckin’ Christ. He bled all over me!” Jericho swore over the body of the final raider who had tried to defend the supplies in the Super Duper Mart. “I’m goin’ to wash this off. I fuckin’ hate gettin’ up close. God damn blood, everywhere...”

Talia followed Jericho along the small corridor leading to what used to be the men’s bathroom. Instinctively she paused at the doorway, before remembering. She stepped in after him, cautiously. It was dingy, only one light in working order. The air stank of sweat and piss and god knew what else- it looked like people had been staying in there for long periods. There was a chair and table and even a mattress in the corner. The walls were damp and peeling, and stains of uncertain nature covered whatever an orange algae did not. Talia tried not to breathe more than necessary and made her body small, hoping to keep everything but the bottoms of her boots from making contact with anything.

“Missin’ your shiny vault, huh, princess?” Jericho flashed yellowed teeth at her from the sink, where he was already rinsing a slurry of blood off one arm.

Despite her outward discomfort, her heart was still racing, every colour and sound and smell was so intense. He wasn’t completely wrong, but all she could do was force out an awkward chuckle.

“Jesus Christ kid, relax. You ain’t gonna run on me already? I was just startin’ to enjoy myself.” His voice echoed harshly around the hard walls as he scrubbed water over his face. “I know that last cocksucker gave me some trouble but, that’s just it- this ain’t gonna be no picnic. You need to pull your weight too. You told me you killed people before, no?”

She started at his tone. “Uh, yeah. God- yeah, listen, I’m not lying--”

He cut her off. “Good. So don’t fuckin’ hesitate any more. You did good, just hurry it up next time, you got me?” He dried off on a rag that Talia didn’t study too closely. “Not that I need any help, but I ain’t here to do all the work. I could though. I still got it, yeah, I definitely still got it.” He chuckled to himself, voice rising again with, apparently, rediscovery of a great passion for violence.

“Oh, I believe it,” Talia assured him. “It’s just, this is… new to me. Seriously, Jericho- that was amazing.”

She meant that. She was amazed. Vault security was nothing compared to the ferocity of what just passed. But the way he threw himself into the fight completely, like he felt no fear whatsoever. Damn, she nearly turned and ran when he screamed in pure, bloodthirsty joy at first contact. His elation was terrifying. If Chief Hannon had been a bully just waiting for an excuse to use his baton, Jericho was the attack dog, loose- and possibly rabid. This was a man who lived for the action. When Talia was standing over the expired Overseer, she felt something, but on the downturn. All the rage had built up and burst and left her exhausted. This fight had completely rejuvenated the tired, if still intimidating old man she had hired back in Megaton.

“Yeah… I feel amazing!” Jericho exclaimed, startling Talia back to the present moment.

Then she remembered. “Shit- we came here for the pharmacy.”

He blinked in momentary realisation too. “Oh yeah, right. It’s probably at the back of the store. Come on.”

He led the way back to the main shop floor where they skirted the ends of the aisles, moving carefully between each in case anyone else was lying in wait. Talia watched their rear and tried not to feel too useless. They reached the dispensary and hopped the counter, beginning their search at opposite ends of the room.

“What am I lookin’ for again?” he called.

“There are a few compounds that work. If I hear the name or see them I’ll recognise them. I can’t remember off the top of my head, sorry.”

Jericho pulled a bottle out of a pile and peered at the label from an arm’s length away. “Clow-rah...fuxia...hi- Fuck it, I’ll just grab everything and you can read ‘em.”

“Sure... Whoa.” Talia stared into a cupboard clearly used as a stash for the raiders’ favourite things. She checked a few bottles for an unbroken seal and pulled out a whisky.

“Hey! I called that,” Jericho growled, motioning for the bottle and moving heavily toward her.

Talia stepped back and gestured at the stash. “Help yourself.”

His eyes lit up, and she breathed in relief not to be the object of his attention once more. She opened her bottle and sniffed it cautiously before deciding, after the day she’d had, she wasn’t so worried about the age of alcohol. She noticed her hands were shaking, though she didn’t feel particularly scared. More like: sharp.

“Hey, the vault asshole is drinkin’ from the dirt, look at that.” With a bottle under one arm Jericho lit a cigarette from one of the many packs he had lifted out of the stash.

Talia suppressed a grimace as she swallowed a generous gulp of spirit. “You know, you don’t have to call me an asshole,” she offered quietly, remaining several paces away.

Jericho fixed her with a frankly frightening look. “I can call you whatever I want. What are you gonna do about it?”

Nothing. She said nothing, but couldn’t keep the glare out of her eyes.

He broke into rough, brief laughter, setting Talia on edge given her already heightened nerves. “You’re not so bad, kid. For a vault asshole doctor’s kid, I mean.” He broke into a coughing fit, but persevered with his smoke, smothering a moment of visible discomfort with a fresh scowl.

She watched a few moments as he collected himself. “You can call him an asshole. Hey, I don’t think those are gonna make things any better.” She nodded at the cigarette in his hand.

“No shit,” he snorted. “You notice there’s a lot o’ things that might kill ya faster than a smoke?” He gestured to the world in general.

“...No shit,” Talia agreed. She turned back to the cupboard and fished out a pack of her own. (She may have been laughing with the guy but no way was she going to try asking him to give away one of his vices). “Could I, um, could I use your light?”

He cackled again, holding out his lighter. Just as her fingers were about to grasp it he pulled it away in a playful manner, chuckling at her startled, almost unnerved reaction. “Yeah, you’re alright, kid. Relax though, would ya?”

She lit up, keeping him in sight. “I just... I’m amped,” she explained, hoping it covered for how nervous he made her.

“Me too, kid. This is fuckin’ livin’. Damn I spent so long doin’ bullshit for that cocksucker Moriarty, in that fuckin’ hole soakin’ up all that radiation. It’s probably that shit that’s got me. If I’d stayed out here I bet I’d be fine. I mean look at me!” He growled his last words and almost danced over to the other side of the room, ignorant of what he’d just said.

Talia had offered her knowledge of what drugs could help a variety of nasty coughs in order to get him on side; to be useful; to keep him around long enough to make it to Tenpenny Tower alive. She’d seen her dad treat infections many times. Not complicated if the right stuff could be found. But other illnesses, more serious illnesses, even terminal- she didn’t know of anything that could be scavenged from a bombed out grocery store that would help someone in any way more meaningful than, say, finding a major stash of good booze and tobacco in the nuclear wasteland they called home.

She continued her search of the pharmacy and grouped together every medicinal drug she recognised. There was no telling what she might need in the near future, after all. “Jericho,” she called out, tossing him a bottle that ought to help someone with a persistent infection.

“Thanks kid. Regular vault angel ain’t ya?”

Somehow that was worse than being called an asshole. She didn’t want to appear soft. She didn’t want to know how he got his value from someone he deemed soft. “I just wanna make sure you can make it all the way to the tower, like I paid for. Or I’ll have my money back,” she shrugged.

He roared at that, succumbed to another coughing fit, though short. “Over my dead body,” he croaked. “No vault asshole is takin’ from me. Let’s go, then. Sooner we get there the sooner you can pay me- again.” He rustled her bag of caps tauntingly and cackled to himself, heading off to collect ammunition from the bodies.

Talia smoked every last speck of her cigarette. She wondered if he’d keep his eyes on the prize, or if he’d be distracted by every chance of a fight. Well, at least he could fight. And he got royally pissed if she did anything stupid, so if wasn’t like he had a death wish. If he was sick- really sick- maybe he just wanted one last adventure. Maybe he wanted to see Moriarty go up in flames from a proper town inhabited by the likes of Mr. Burke. She wondered if he would really want his second payment... Of course he will, dummy. She may have to watch him drink away every cap she was owed… But at least she would be watching from that same proper town. You just have to take it one ‘are you kidding me’ at a time, she thought.

She bagged up the meds and chose to roll with it. Her foreseeable future could be in worse hands.

#falloutober 2023 #falloutober #falloutober2023 #fallout 3 #oc: talia #no love for megaton here sorry

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kip-and-kit-nightengale · 2 years ago

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KIP NIGHTENGALE

RECORDS OF MY RUNS

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November 1. 1883.

Today was when I finally decided to leave the town I was inning at. The talk of my birthday heist was over and I was gettin bored where I was. Besides, I got more important matters to tend. Last heist I grabbed said important matters somethin real pretty and I know she'll just love it. One of them rich old ladies was wearing a mighty fine necklace that was red with a bitova purple hue...couldn't think of anything more perfect for her! I can tell I miss her bad. I keep staring at the damn thing and thinkin' of how she's gonna react to such a beaut'. Not knowing quite where she is has been taking a real toll on me. Usually when ya miss a person ya can't see ya send em a letter. But I ain't got an address to write to. So I haven't seen or talked to her in a lil over a year and it's hurting. Man oh man does bein separated suck....

I left that inn today and got on another train. Usually I'd be excited about such things, I fancy ridin the train...but I was just far too sad thinkin about T. That means it's bad...when not even the stupid look on some scared rich man who thinks he's somethin rough and tough'll make me feel better. I'm just so close and I know it and I know it good...yet it all feels like it's so damn far.

Anyhow...the train took me into the next town over. I walked around for a lil while before finding my way to another inn. I ain't got no buisness here aside from moving ahead so I really ain't got a direction, so why not make another home away from home? I went in and asked for a room, got myself set up all over again and headed back down for food and a hard drink. I sat myself at the bar, placed an order and shot some whiskey whiles' I waited for my food. All was peaceful before I heard that conversation behind me....Some good for nothin guy was talkin.

"I went to the brothel the other night and was stuck with some ugly and mean broad." Boy, that alone made me upset but then he continued with "Worst part is she didn't even give me what I was paying for! I fell asleep all sudden and next thing I know all my stuff was gone! That ugly whore stole everything for me!" I had to restrain my anger as I whipped my head and asked "She didn't happen to be yeh high and have blonde, thick hair with some dark patches towards the top...did she?" "Yeah! She wore and all red outfit, bout the shade of your there flannel. That stupid thing steal from you too?!" "No...and don't talk about her like that." "Don't talk ab-?! That sonnova bitch stole from me, what is you, deaf?!" "No, I ain't deaf! And shut your filthy trap! I betcha just upset cause ya got showed up by a gal! Had I'd done that to ya you'd be yellow! Shakin!" "No I'm upset cause that lil-" "-Watch it." "-That lil sk-" "WATCH IT." "Because that lil skank didn't give me a bit of what I paid for!" I finally lost and swung at him, square in the jaw. He hopped on me and startin swinging himself. I flipped us over and almost had him but then his friends hopped in on me. That's when I finally did what I hadda...I hate doin it but they would tore me apart. I went for my pocket and whipped my gun out before shouting "GET OFFA ME!" and pointed it to his chest. Everyone stopped and stared at us. "I bet it ain't loaded." I lightly squeezed the trigger and pressed a lil firmer. "Wanna make that bet, buck?" He stared at me for minute before finally lettin' me go. "Now, imma ask real nicely and imma only nicely ask once! Where do you live?!" "What?!" "I SAY WHERE DO YA LIVE?!" I shouted in his face and pressed my gun to his face before he gave me directions. Had she had the time she would left me a clue, something. She's real smart like that. I tore outta there and fast. I ran, practically galloped to the guys place an started tearing apart his whole damn house. That was when I finally found what I was lookin for. Under his mattress wassa note she left me.

God she's so damn smart.

The note gave me details. Details on her safety and where her next stop was gonna be. I couldn't of been happier.

I went back to the inn, gathered my things and hit the next train. I kept that note in my left flannel pocket with a bitova smile on my face now. I'm gettin close...real close. I just hope she won't be mad at me for uh...hurtin a random civilian....

-KIP NIGHTENGALE

#cowboys #dnd #dnd oc story #dungeons and dragons #westerns #kip nightengale #dnd rp #dnd oc #dnd oc rp #ask blog #dnd story

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imy2 · 11 months ago

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noted o7

5-2 warrens so cutee .. ugh pandora..... oo hi red .. •

lmao warren opening the trunk to murphy then slamming it back on him .. "ok, wanna do it the right way? open the trunk, let the man out - i'll apologize, my bad 🙄" lol cooper ,, aw warren :( but murphys smile at her :') •

hmm last ep doc asked w 10k n sarge n dante all right there - "whats in the bizcuitz?" and george answers "nobody knows, no one wants to know - rumor is, it's a trace amount of brains." so whyy ?? this episode, 10k asks dante "what's in those things anyway" and dante says "nobody knows for sure, nobody wants to know. my guess, trace amounts of brains." ??? i would've said 10k asked again to see if they got the same answer, but dante was there when george answered the first time so obv he'd just be able to repeat what she said... so i'm thinking this was just a genuine mess up ? •

ughh estes ... •

ahhh warren n george lookin at each other , oh to be in the middle of that look.. omg i forgot puppies n kittens was from george.. •

aww wb sun mei :-) .. hi cz .. •

"another... dude? and they got a kid?" i too would drink the zombie thumb alcohol after that one 10k •

omglol i just gasped when leroy shot cliff.. not cool leroy! "heyy you shot me :/" "i'll do it again if you don't shut up." 'this was my favorite t-shirt :(" •

5-3 "people have been giving me the eyeball since i got here!" "you look like satan." "yeah and i'm rockin it 🕺 but still it's rude to stare!" redmurphy does look pretty cool •

oh damnn i forgot abt 10k.. mann :/ bye sarge ... •

5-4 man warren laughing this ep made me realize how little she's laughed thruout the show .. wish i was in that room w george n warren ... •

5-5 i wish I was the zombie warren n george just slammed on that table.. ok i'll stop (unless it happens again) •

aww nana n jz r so cute .. •

this time doc was the one throwin a zombomb down the elevator(/air) shaft .. lmaoo "but i could use a light" wld be a great gif •

omg wb addy •

5-6 "alright i'll go ahead" "why" "bc ur my friend n i dont want u to get hurt" george pls .. •

hmm redmurphy cooloutfit another 5/5 look .. hellll yeah he got doc a look too •

lmaooo dante pulling a peeta •

5-7 lol doc gettin stabbed by murphys spiked gloves when they fist bump ... what car r doc n george in rn, i like it ... bye dante :// .. •

"take care of them." "yeah yeah, i got it." "ok well then, be safe." "no, you be safe out there. i don't want to have to go traipsing around half of screwmerica again to save your ass." "i don't care how many times you gotta traipse around to save me - but when you do, pick a color." lmaoo .. "i mean it, warren. the apocalypse wouldn't be half as fun without you in it. be careful." ohhh the looksss. "i love you too, murphy." murphy's facee :') .. "god, keep him safe." mannn •

5-8 oo i dont like this ep :/•

this was cute ..•

5-9 interesting ep.. kuruk n ayalla r so cool n pretty ..•

5-10 "one mans junk is another mans treasure. . that didn't come out right." lol doc •

man always hate that end bit... •

#h-vom

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pinkbelugacollective · 4 years ago

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been thinkin about this for a while, and i just gotta say - some of you REALLY dont realize how much y’all contribute to self-clownery by going after fancontent creators over the age of 25. whether it’s jibes of the nature of ��ur almost thirty,” or the more condescending “ur old enough to know that ship is Bad,” and it’s like???? bitch you pay my bills??? you clothe, feed, and house my fantastic ass and my bitch cat??? you sendin me money for my givenchy bitch!?

cuz you aint. more often than not, fancreators over 25 be creatin for themselves, regardless of how immoral the content is bc it’s a) there’s no monetary gain, b) it’s an exercise in skill and creativity, and c) cuz it’s fun! YES, CLOWNS! IT’S FUN TO WRITE A 150k DARKFIC WITH MURDER, INFIDELITY, HIJINKS, AND TELENOVELA-ESQUE ALLURE! nobody gives a fuck if it’s immoral in its lessons, because NO ONE is required to consume it and NO ONE is telling a fancontent creator how to write it! it’s free of every restriction placed on mainstream COMMERCIAL content, because fancontent... wait for it... is for free.

and it’s true! 25+ gang is old! we got bills to pay and mouths to feed and dayjobs to excel at so we can survive in this capitalist nightmare, BUT WE ALSO LOVE FANDOM! we got back problems and still cant get our apostrophes right half the time, but the engagement is STILL there. THAT’S why AO3 survives, cuz people who are old as shit have a passion for fandom, have a passion for creating and archiving for future generations.

and to think that some of y’all got the gohtdamn NERVE to roll up in my inbox talmbout “if u think critically, u would not be shipping/liking this character/ship/etc.” like??? im sorry im not using my critical thinking skills to make moral content katherine, but like, i see critical thinking is not stopping you from selfshipping on main and taking requests for reader-insert porn and selfship OCs. not to be mean, but imma be VERY mean, but did you think u were special just cuz ur discord cult said so???

cuz ur not. i know some of y’alls social interactions with other human beings is relegated to your discord cults, voltron fandom, and your pizza delivery guy, BUT DID YOU THINK.... that no one noticed???? and that you were any less of a clown than the rest of us??? did you think no one noticed that your reams of self-insert porn and selfshipping fanart wasn’t just a testament to your ten million daddy/mommy issues??? did you think your content wasnt a part of the cringeship, ugly and immoral in of itself??? cuz it is. i know some of y’all will ride or die for your cult overlords, but i want you to know that they are in fact wrong and that you are in fact a dumb clown who people very much DO laugh at for being so clueless despite being such vicious bullies.

some of y’all lucky as hell most ppl just block you and keep it pushin despite the fact that SO many of you will cross the boundary of respectability and then be too much of a coward to come off anon when your friends have no problem ratting you out for being hypocritical clowns. and you’re lucky that ppl mute ur nonsense cuz they know you’ve gone on record with Several Mental Illnesses and no old bitch wants to tell a clown with low selfawareness that mayhaps they should stop cuz guess what? we aint ya parents.

bc the sad reality is, some of y’all just got no hometraining PERIOD! you come around, talmbout this and that and actin like you hot shit, but nevermind that you’re LUCKY that the old gang aint cruel enough to roll up and tell you to your face that you’re probably contributing to your bad health by being this much of a clown on the internet, and you’re LUCKY that no one’s called out some of y’all sociopathic asses so damn THIRSTY for fandom validation, but really, i want you to know that that’s all luck.

cuz eventually, and it always happens, you gon piss off a clown EQUALLY as sociopathic as you, they gon ruin ur online rep, get ya frens to turn on you, get the cult will target you next, AND laugh ya ass all the way outta town. cuz why?

#and i WILL laugh #because it’s what you deserve #black clover #real talk #fandumb #i been lookin back all the hate i be gettin and on god #some of y’all really think you slick #when you aint

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immortalbumblebee · 3 years ago

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Chapter Four: Fused Together

God I hate the post formatting on this hellsite. But I’ve invested in it now!

Content Warning for police violence

Masterlist

Your mother had been thrilled to hear about your adventure with the boys. Less so thrilled about the giant gash in your arm-and the story about how you had gotten it-but when Benzo had walked you home after several hours spent hanging out at his place, your mother (in a somewhat happy-drunken state) had been absolutely pleased as punch.

“M' lil' girl, finally makin' friends! Now, ye can finally spend less time crawlin' 'round those rust pits! So much safer, yeah!” She cried happily, scooping you up in her arms with little regard for the awkwardly standing Benzo in your doorway.

"I guess I'll just..." Benzo uncomfortably snuck past your mother, grabbing the guns by the windowsill, and then running out the door with a quick wave goodbye in your direction.

Slipping out of your mother’s arms, you walked towards your makeshift workplace. “Although come to think of it, if Benzo’s be makin' ye do all this dangerous stuff…maybe I should be worried, yeah?” Your mother continued, shutting the door and following you.

“That’s just it, Ma’am, is the way that people travel here. It’s either that or gettin' lost all the time…Plus, it’s faster and much less risky than the bathysphere.” You explained. “Besides, weren’t you the one to be hoppin' ships and gettin' into gunfights when y' were my age?”

Your mother sighed, deciding that she was not in the right mindset to debate with you, and flopped down onto the mattress. Her head rested at the foot of your shared bed so she could gaze over at you, watching you rifle around your boxes of gadgets and supplies.

“Yer always so damn cute when yer…doin' all that.” She gushed with slurred words, motioning vaguely in your direction. “My cute lil' babygirl, so creative!! No idea where ye go' that from, I be tellin' ye that. Oh! Ye should stop by the shop tomorrow before the dinner rush, Love. I’ll pack some extra stew and ye can take it to 'em. Maybe even make some bread too, if I be havin' the time. Tell ‘em it’s m' thanks for lookin' after ye.”

“Not sure yer gonna be havin' the time, Ma'am. Not if you end up with a hangover tomorrow.” You giggled. “But thank y', I think they’d like that. Their father’s sick, apparently. Seems kinda bad…y' think y' can make up one that’ll help him? Y'know, like how y' make it when I get sick?”

“What kinda sick?”

“I don’t know, didn’t ask. But he coughs and has to walk with a cane…said he got it when he worked down in the mines.”

Your mother remained silent for a moment, but you didn’t really notice as you finally came across the phonograph parts you had been searching for. You didn’t quite have the right sound horn for the rest of your parts, everything you’d found was beaten beyond fixing, but if worst comes to worst, you could just make one yourself. All you’d need is the right amount of brass. You did have that old sewing machine you found the other day, could replace the parts with something else like the leftover steel you still had from those scopes…

“Min?” Your mother’s voice cut your thoughts short and you tore your eyes away to look at her, face full of worry as she gazed up at you. You didn’t understand why.

“Yes Ma’am?”

“I want ye to promise me somethin', k?”

“Alright…”

“No matter how bad things may get for ye down here, I wan' ye to promise me fair that ye won’t work in those damn chem-mines. '?”

“But their father said it was one of the most reliable jobs in the Underground.” You frowned. “I know it ain't safe, but isn’t it good to have a reliable job? Vander, Benzo’s brother, works down in the mines, y'know, an' he just got a promotion!”

Your mother deeply exhaled and extended her hand to you. It was small and dainty, but her deep callouses rubbed against your own as you took her hand in yours. A long, thin scar ran across the back of her palm, a scar you still had yet to find out its origin. “Just promise me. Yer health'll always be more important than a job, an' I want ye to remember that now. I don’ wan' ye leavin' The Bay just to work away at a place that’ll eat yer lungs from the inside out. Besides, with all those brains of yers, I’m sure one day ye’ll be able to get a job across the bridge or somethin'!”

“Maybe I could do somethin' with metalworkin'. Y’know, with my powers 'n all...”

The look on your mother's face told that, had it not been for her intoxication, you would've been receiving a lecture, one that you'd received time and time again. Something about people not trusting mages, how they’d only be interested in exploiting your powers for their personal gain. Or even worse, there was the possibility of you being exiled, and you'd have to move all over again, possibly separated from your mother. But she didn’t go into that lecture, just looked you dead and the eyes and repeated herself; “promise me.”

“I promise.” You nodded, and your mother’s stern look turned to a relieved smile. She let go of your hand, turning back into a more comfortable position. Her long limbs stretched out, reaching, and she hummed contently as her joints popped. You weren’t blind, you could see the effects her new job had on her body. The aches she came home with, the way the tiredness would make the light wrinkles on her face seem more pronounced, the hacking coughs in the night, how the soles of her shoes would get worn out faster. The way her eyes would get glassy when she talked about back home in Bilgewater.

She missed the open sea just as much as you did.

“Good, good…” She muttered. “Now, for the soup…I think we have some honey in the kitchen. I’ll mix some'a those with elderberries and warm ale, soak 'em into some onions. Then cook 'em with some goose fat, crushed snail, and frog guts. Cumin and garlic should help too, especially with the taste…but we don’t have a lot left though, and it ain't not very fresh. He’ll have to eat it hot, yeah?”

“That will help Mikael?” You inquired.

“Probably not much, Lass. 'nfortunately, soup can only take ye so far.” She shrugged. “But it should help with some'a those aches and pains, and that’s the best we can do, aye?”

“Aye.” You nodded. “And hey, maybe if it works y' could sell it to other chem-workers with the same sickness!”

Your mother laughed. “I think Benzo’s business-likeness is starting to rub off on ye, Poppet.”

You knocked on the black wooden door at the early hours of dusk. Admittedly, the trip had taken you longer than you'd expected. The distance from Jericho's to the level you had been to the previous day was more substantial than initially planned, especially whilst carrying two large bags (all with a healing arm injury). Thankfully, you'd been able to stick to the back alleyways and paths that Benzo had shown you, probably the only reason you didn’t get mugged…

When the door opens just a crack, you see a familiar pair of dust-grey eyes peering down at you, making you give a polite smile and wave in return. When the eyes spark with recognition, the door opens the rest of the way, revealing Mikael’s fragile older form on the other side. His expression is one of surprise, but is also welcoming.

“Hello again, Min. How's your arm?” He greets.

"It's doin' much better, thank y'."

"Good, good. I’m very sorry, but Benzo’s actually not here at the moment. He should be back in a minute, but if you’d like me to tell him you stopped by-”

“Actually, sir,” You don’t really realize you’re interrupting him, he speaks so slowly that the pauses between statements are too large for you to fully process, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “I’m not here for Benzo. Well I mean, I have some stuff I wanted just hand over to him to sell, I’m actually quite proud of this work, really! There’s this cool light fixture thin' that I finally figured out-!” You pause when you realize you’ve gotten off-topic, and clear your throat.

“Right, sorry, anyways. My Mom wanted to thank y' for helpin' me the other day, and sent me over with some fish bowls, soup, and fresh bread! She works at the fishery stand in the midway level markets, Jericho’s, y'know. I hope I’m not interruptin'.”

“Not at all, Love. I was just reading.” Mikael slowly hobbles off to the side, motioning you to come in from the street, and you follow him as he closes the heavy door behind you. “Your mother didn’t have to send us anything, I hope it wasn’t too much of a bother.”

“Benzo told me that y' can’t expect anythin' for free in the Underground, sir!” You explained, gently setting down the bag that contained your work and moving to the kitchen table with the bag of food. “I may not understand all these weird rules of this city yet, but I want to!”

“Benzo’s always been too serious for his own good. All the boys are always going on and on about the politics and the darkness of the Fissures. But I’m afraid in this regard, he has a point.” Mikael clicks his tongue, slowly following you into his kitchen. When you begin to unload the bowls upon bowls that had been stacked in your bag, the sunken skin around his eyes pulls back in awe. “Goodness, did your Mother think she was feeding a small army?”

“They got an extra load of angler fish today, a mistake on the supplier’s end. Had to be used up quickly since it’s not one of their best sellers, but promise that Ma'am cooks it well with pepper and mustard seed if you ask me.”

“But this was an awful lot of food for one small girl to carry. This is…far too kind.” One of his fragile hands gently opens the wrapped loaves of fresh bread, still steaming. “I can’t remember the last time I had freshly baked bread in this house…”

You couldn’t help but smirk, eyeing the metal containers. “They’re not as heavy as they look.” You find the specially marked one and hand it to Mikael who takes it with a raised eyebrow. “I told my Ma y' were sick, and she made one special for y'. It should help with yer cough and some of yer joint pain, but y' need to eat it while it’s hot, y'hear?”

The man looks down at the container with wide eyes, then back up to your face with an expression that you can’t quite place. You’re not expecting him to put the bowl down and place his hand on your head, a touch ever so gentle especially when paired with his eyes which are so intense. Like grey storm clouds. You tense slightly, but don’t pull away.

“This was very kind of you and your mother, Love. Thank you.”

“Of course!” You smile. “I hope Vander and Silco like at least some of them too. I know what Benzo’s favourites are by now, but I'm not so sure 'bout the other two…”

“Vander will eat just about anything, and he’ll scarf it down in a blink of an eye.” Mikael laughed, and he dropped his hand from your head, walking over to the cabinets to fetch some spoons. The laugh was cut short by a full-body cough. “Silco’s a little pickier, but he loves anything spicy.”

“This one should be good then!” You nodded, motioning to a bowl of spiced mussels and bluefish doused in vegetable broth with rice noodles. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow the older man as he slowly made his way out of the kitchen and back into the seating room, towards the old kickback. You didn’t miss the way he wheezed slightly when he breathed, something you hadn’t noticed yesterday. As he sat down, he groaned loudly, and you felt awkward for just standing there, unmoving, unhelpful. Should you be helping him, or is it rude to ask?

“Now, what was that you were telling me on the doorstep?” He asked as he took the covering off of his dish. “A light fixture?”

“Yes sir.” You nodded. “It has a special shader on it that can show star-maps 'round a room. I wanted to originally repurpose it so that it could be used for navigation, but Benzo said it would be better as a decoration piece, something the Northsiders would buy for fun. The star-maps are still accurate though, they move and turn with the seasons and everythin'! I had to fix the center of gravity to make it work, and the lightbulb was hard to find…”

“Fascinating.” He nodded, watching you carefully. You knew you often talked too much when it came to your interests, people like Benzo had told you enough times for you not to be aware of it. So you knew when people, especially adults, were just responding to you to get you to finish up and move on. But that wasn’t how it felt with Mikael. His warmness, the slow and methodical nodding, you realized that the way he looked at you made you feel like there was nobody in the world he’d rather be listening to, even while he was spooning soup into his mouth. “Could I possibly see? Or is it bad to show off the merchandise?”

“I don’ think it’s bad!” You exclaimed and ran to the bag by the door. Thankfully, the light was near the top so you didn’t have much trouble finding it. A small unassuming dome, the top being a metal casing with little pinpricks inserted (seemingly randomly). You’d decided to give the dome a fresh layer of navy paint, matching with the night sky aesthetic. Walking to the sitting room, you placed it on the middle of the floor and located the switch. “Now, here’s the thin'. It technically needs to be dark to work, but just…y’ll see here.”

You toggle the switch and, after a moment of whirring as the dome resets itself, the light sparks up. The dome on top begins to spin and light filters through the small holes, casting the shine of little lights all around the room. Although the house is fairly bright with the few windows sprinkled around the space, it’s dark enough to make the lights visible as they spin and shine across every wall, ceiling, and surface within distance. Mikael’s eyes widen in wonder yet again, gazing up at all the stars, and a smile breaks out on his face. A buzzing warmth spreads through your chest in light of his reaction.

“You made this?”

“Well, technically I just fixed it up a bit.”

“How much would you like for it?”

This surprises you, your back straightening from your place on the floor. “Y' wanna buy it?”

“I would, yes. You hardly see any stars down here, the sky’s too far away and too filled with smog. It would be wonderful to be reminded of what a true night sky looks like.” His words make the warmth in your chest burn hotter, and you know you’re blushing at this point.

“Y' could just keep it if you’d like. It don't seem right to make you pay for it…”

“Now, now, young lady.” The man interrupts you, pointing a bony finger at you with a bemused smirk. “What did we just talk about? What’s Benzo’s rule?”

You hesitate, still surprised. “‘Nothing in the Fissures is free, but everythin' can be haggled’.”

“Exactly.” Mikael digs into his pocket, bringing out a handful of coins. “I’ll give you five cogs for it.”

“Two.”

Mikael laughs. “You know, this isn't typically how haggling works. But very well, here you go. I’ll just consider it a gift from a lovely young lady.”

You shut off the light as you stand, handing it over to the man in return for the two small silver coins. As he takes the gadget in his hands, the front door suddenly opens and releases a slew of familiar voices.

“-not my fault, the guy had it coming!”

“He was twice your size, you dickhead!”

“Exactly; the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

Benzo’s the first through the door, looking exasperated while he shakes his head at the boys behind him. Vander walks with his arm wrapped around Silko's shoulders, the smaller of the two also looking just as exasperated, and you notice Vander's sporting a black eye that wasn't there yesterday.

“And what happened to you today?” Mikael asks, slowly making his way to his feet with a particular look aimed at his largest son.

“You should’ve seen it Dad! This big ol’bruiser-type was looking to start a fight with these kiddos and I stopped him!” As he grins, you notice that the chip in one of his front teeth is bigger than it was.

“And I see you blocked his fist with your face, as per usual.” Mikael spoke disapprovingly. It’s then that Benzo’s eyes flick to you.

“What’re you doing here?”

Grinning, you sprint over to the kitchen table to motion widely to the wide array of food containers. “I brought soup!”

“Fuck yeah, free food!” Vander exclaims, dropping his bag and making a rush to the table.

“That’s an awful lot of food for you to just bring over.” Silco says, eyeing you up and down. “How much are you charging for this?”

“It’s on the house. My Mom wanted to say thanks for patching me up yesterday.” You explain again, and Silco looks up to Benzo for some kind of confirmation. In return, Benzo just shrugs.

“Her Mom is a great cook, and hey, never turn down a free meal. Right?”

Mikael had been the one to suggest the four of you went and ate outside, something he said he used to do in the summer months when he was a boy. The boys’ shared room had a small window that led onto a collection of rooves that weren’t too high up, so you had all chosen to sit out there to eat your dinners with your legs hanging off the lip. A light breeze blew off the rooves and onto your back, cooling you against the late summer heat, and you could watch people walk up and down the streets underneath you.

You had to admit, it was nice.

“This guy wanted to pay 30 cogs for it! Can you believe that?” Benzo shook his head. “It was worth twice that with just the parts alone. He’s lucky I gave it to him for 80, utter thievery is what it is.”

“Well you know he’s from the Northside, right? One time he tried to tell me I was ripping him off for a standard delivery job.” Silco shrugged, spooning another mouthful of his soup into his mouth. Although he was begrudging about accepting the food at first, you didn’t miss the way he defensively slapped Vander’s hand away when the bigger boy had tried to steal a taste.

“Are the markets on the Northside less expensive or somethin'?” You ask, mouth full of bread.

“Nah, they’re more expensive. But every time someone crosses the bridge to set up shop, they think just cause we’re a little laxer with the prices everything’s way cheaper and tries to rip us off. Buy things for pennies, sell for a marked up price.” Benzo explains.

“Just another example of them thinking they’re so much better than us.” Vander barks, causing you to turn your head to look back at him. He had finished his dishes in record time, and then had proceeded to stand and move around; punching and kicking the air with an intense look in his eyes. “But someday, we’re going to change that.”

“Not this again…” Benzo grumbles, rolling his eyes.

“Not what again?” You ask, eyes darting from boy to boy.

“Vander and Silco have these stupid ideas of how to get themselves killed with their illusions of grandeur, is what.”

“It’s not stupid! It just needs more planning.” Silco shoots back. “We're planning a rebellion, to unite the Underground under a common goal and rebuild the great nation of Zaun! An independent and autonomous state, free from the oppression of the Topsiders of Piltover.”

“And a chance to kick some Enforcer butt!” Vander chimes in, delivering a particularly strong punch to the brick wall. You flinch at this, wondering how much that hurt his knuckles, but he doesn’t even flinch. You didn’t realize it yesterday, but you notice that Vander’s hands are completely covered in scars, varying in size, colour, and shape.

“Yes, and that.” Silco laughs. “Definitely that.”

“‘Zaun’..?” Your eyebrows knit together.

“But it’s a half-baked idea.” Benzo cuts in again. “You know I wanna knock some helmets just as much as you, but an undertaking like that is going to need time, resources, allies, and-” “And patience.” Vander interrupted, mockingly copying Benzo’s dialect. “We know, you’ve told us all this already.”

“Well, it bears repeating.” Benzo nods stiffly, one of his hands wrap around a nearby pebble and, as you all watch, he chucks it down. All your eyes follow the object as it falls, flying through the air and down into the catwalks below until eventually…it hits a fruits merchant. “Ha! Ten points!”

“You weren’t even aiming for him!” Silco argues, eagerly looking for a pebble of his own. “That’s like, five points at best.”

“Oh yeah? If you’re so great, you give it a shot then, mighty ruler of Zaun!” Benzo shoots back. Silco was fast to accept the challenge, finding the nearest pebble, winding back and (after a moment of trying to find a target) letting the stone fly. It soars, much smoother than the last until it eventually hits an older-looking teenager in the back of the neck. The young man, maybe in his twenties, whirls around, but since he’s a solid level below you, he thankfully doesn’t see his attacker.

“Ha, nice! My turn!” Vander laughs as he grabs his own pebble. Before you can even fully turn your head around, he’s chucked it good and hard into the levels below. But unfortunately, it just flies down into the wide opening and, as far as you can tell, doesn’t hit anything at all. The rest of you erupt into laughter.

“That was the worst throw I’ve ever seen!” Silco shouts, laughing so hard he practically tumbles over to his side.

“Oi, shut it.” Vander gave a harsh slap to Silco’s head, which Silco tried to return right back, only to miss.

Suddenly, Benzo’s grabbing your shoulder. “You should do the thing! See how far it’ll get!”

“The thin'?”

“You know,” he waves his hands in the air making a spooky ‘oooo’ noise, “the thing.”

You look over at Silco and Vander, suddenly feeling somewhat self-conscious. “I’m really not supposed to show it off, y'know.”

“Show what off?” Vander asks, holding Silco’s wrists up above his head as the smaller boy tries to wiggle free.

“Min has superpowers!” “Benzo!”

“You what?” This was enough to grab Silco’s attention.

“They’re not…” you sigh, loudly, “I need somethin' metal.”

“Here!” Benzo reaches into his pocket and pulls out a nut, handing it to you. As you take it into your palm, you turn it over a couple of times. It’s small, not really heavy. You feel the way that the steel feels against your skin.

“I’ve never really thrown anythin' with it before, but…here goes.” With your other hand you motion to lift it up, and then (to your mistake, not looking where you were aiming) wave your hand away from you. Following your actions, the piece of metal goes flying…right into the helmet of a nearby Enforcer just on the street below you. A curse falls under your breath.

“Shit!” Benzo cries, which winds up catching the officer’s attention as he whirls around. His eyes from underneath his helmet, framed by the gas mask that covers the majority of his face, immediately land on the group of you and you feel your stomach plummet.

“Hey, you brats! Was that you?” His voice is gruff, angry.

“Run?” Silco’s voice comes out as a squeak.

Vander nods and, much to your surprise, grabs your wrist in a tight grip, practically ripping you from your seat. “Run.”

Although you knew you were running, you were fairly certain you had left your conscious mind behind you as you were essentially dragged by the wrist up and over rooftops. Your feet were definitely hitting the metal and stone roofs-you were sure of that much-but through the shock, you had no idea where you were going or whose footsteps were whose. You could sense Silco and Benzo behind you, dashing as fast as they could, but your eyes just stayed on Vander’s back. Everything was just sort of a blur.

Then the trail of roofs stops.

“You okay to jump?” Vander asked as he slid to a stop. You peered over the edge, it was well over a five-story drop, more than anything you had ever practiced with Benzo. As Silco came up behind you and gracefully jumped without hesitation, hitting the ground in a perfect roll, you felt the panic of the situation hit you.

“Just leave her! We don’t have time!” Silco called back up.

“She gave us food, Silco!”

“You and your stomach are going to get us arrested, Vander!”

“I-I don’t know.” You panted. You hadn’t even realized you were breathing so hard. Now that you had noticed though, the thickness of the air made you feel like you were choking.

“Then plan B it is!” Before you could even protest or ask, Vander was scooping you up by the wrist and dangling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You were fairly certain you heard Silco laugh at you from down on the street. The amount of grace that Vander actually had was impressive, seeing as he was already close to being six feet tall and quite stocky. With one easy leap and a swing from a nearby lamppost, he landed safely on the ground with you in tow and Benzo right on your tails. Very gently, Vander set you down on your feet.

“Quick, I know a way!” Silco exclaimed, and took off with Benzo and Vander in tow. You follow suit, although it very soon becomes clear that you’re certainly not as experienced at this as the boys, and you’re struggling to keep pace. You can see Benzo making frequent looks over his shoulder to look at you, but you still are quite aways further back than them no matter how hard you try. Straight, left, up the stairs, turn left at the tavern, go straight until the blue building-

And then, just as you’re about to turn a sharp corner, you feel a strong pull at your hair and pull, strong enough to knock you back off your feet and you find yourself tumbling onto the stone. Pain spikes through your shin, causing you to wince.

“Gotcha!” The officer is standing over you, eyes burning with anger, and you try to crawl away as quickly as you can, but he’s faster. He delivers a swift kick to your naval, knocking the wind right out of you and causing your limbs to sprawl out around you. His boots were steel-toed, and as he reeled back to deliver another kick, you tried to reach out to stop him. But you were too slow, and you heard a soft ‘crunch’ when his foot made contact with your nose. With the force, pain shot through the front of your face and as you tried to breathe, you found yourself choking on what must have been your blood.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” “All you Sumprats are the same, no-good trouble makers, the lot of you! When are you all going to get it through your thick, Trencher Trash skulls? Don’t fuck with us! You think you’re better than us? Huh? Well, you’re not! You’re just lowly, dirty, rats. All of you!” Your choked whimpers went unheard by the officer as he lifted you, again by the hair, to put his face directly up to yours. You were pretty sure you were crying, but you couldn’t tell the difference between tears or the wetness from laying in the water-logged streets.

“I’m sorry!” You choked out again, but you were only met with another glob of wetness as the officer spat on you. Against your face, the saliva felt like it burned into your skin.

“Hey Mate!” A familiar voice suddenly cut through your panted cries, and the officer turned his head to see three enraged boys standing at the entrance to the nearest alley. As you looked over as well, you found Benzo at the front, cracking his knuckles. “Didn’t your Mum ever tell you not to hit a woman?”

In the blink of an eye, Vander was surging forward, and a single strong punch to the Officer’s jaw had the Enforcer flying to the ground. But that didn’t stop him, Vander practically jumping on him, continuing to beat into him with his scarred knuckles. You didn’t have much time to watch, however, as Benzo and Silco ran over to you; the former lifting your arm up and over your shoulder as he helped you to your feet. “Up you go, Sewer Fish, easy does it. Didn’t I tell you that you had to work on your sprinting?”

Silco’s hand, thin and boney unlike his brothers’, gently cupped your face as he began to look over your injuries. You hadn’t noticed before, but his eyes were really quite pretty. Small, but a shining bottle green with little flecks of blue and gold. The colour reminded you of the open waters back home…

But then he poked your nose, and the memories of rippling water were replaced with a searing pain that shocked through to your brain. “Mother Serpent drown me! OW!”

“Well, bad news, your nose is definitely broken.” Silco tilted his head. Then his hands made their way to your ribcage, applying pressure to all sides of them in a way that-had you not just been beaten-would have made you very uncomfortable. “But good news, doesn’t look like your ribs took any of that. Your ankle definitely looks twisted, though.”

“That’s good! Ribs are much harder to heal than your nose, trust me!” Benzo reassured, giving your hand a light squeeze. “And a twisted ankle is nothing, just…no parkour for a while, yeah?”

Silco turned to look at Vander, still punching the officer, and called out to him. “Hey, muscle-head, I’m pretty sure he’s unconscious now.”

Vander paused, looking down at the man. His face was now fully visible, the helmet had fallen off in the initial punch, and with his skin fully revealed Vander could see the newly forming bruises and welts where his fists had just hit him. The man's eyes were closed and he was completely still, but he was breathing. As the large boy stood, he gave one last little kick to the man’s side, just to be sure. When there was no response, however, the boy hummed. “Oh, whoops.”

“Come on, we need to get you back to our place. Don’t need to be hanging around for when someone finds this prick.” Benzo spoke quietly to you, which you appreciated as the ringing in your ears was quite enough noise for your liking. “Mikael will patch you up, good as new!”

“Second day in a row.” Silco chuckled, and moved to take your other arm to help Benzo semi-carry you. “At this rate, you’re gonna use up all our first aid supplies.”

“I’m sorry…” You whimpered, and as you did, a glob of blood was spat out of your mouth, causing you to cringe.

“Don’t worry about it, Love.” Vander smiled at you, placing a hand on your head similar to what his father had done earlier that day. “We kinda baited you into it. What matters is that you’re alright. Although, I will say that we're gonna have to teach you how to fight some."

"Also, maybe consider cutting your hair?" Silco eyes your locks. "You need to be practical down here, you know."

This made you smile, or as much of a smile as you could muster, and that warmth in your chest ignited again. “Thank y', for everything,” you whispered, “really.”

#Arcane #arcane netflix #arcane fanfic #arcane league of legends #vander arcane #vander x reader #vander x oc #writing #arcane benzo #arcane silco #young vander #young silco #young benzo #oc fanfic #original character

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luminnara · 3 years ago

Text

Pro Hero Bakugou + cam girl!reader fluff 18+ ONLY

I wrote this for myself c: i’m a SWer and i gotta live through my self inserts sometimes lol

Warnings: nsfw language

part 2

requests are open!

Everyone always expected him to end up with another pro hero. After all, he was Dynamight, a determined, powerful man with an even more powerful quirk. He had his own agency, he kept his area of the city in check, and he had a near perfect record. It only made sen that he would want to date someone equally as impressive and passionate about hero work, someone who could keep up with him and match him on every level.

Nobody ever expected that he would end up with someone like you, least of all...well, you.

You held off on telling him what you did for a living for a while. You weren’t ashamed of your profession by any means, but you had developed too much of a crush on Katsuki to risk ruining everything if he didn’t share your viewpoint. What if he hated your job? What if he thought you were an embarrassment to his name? No, it felt better to just tell him that you did something mundane, letting him believe you were an accountant or something rather than a full time online sex worker.

You were absolutely certain that the great Dynamight wouldn’t want the news getting out that he was dating someone like you, so even though it felt like you were lying to the man you were falling in love with, it also felt...better. It felt safe.

So imagine your surprise and horror when he casually brought it up on his own.

“What, you thought I didn’t know from the start?” He rolled his eyes, kicking his feet up on your coffee table as he raised a beer to his lips. “You think I’m stupid or somethin’?”

“What? No!” You said quickly.

“Then why’d you lie?”

You looked down in embarrassment. “Because...I didn’t know how you would react.”

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for you to continue.

“A lot of guys get jealous, or just...shitty about it.” You sighed. “I figured that you wouldn’t want my job ruining your reputation as a pro, too. So...I just never said anything.”

Katsuki was silent for a moment, taking another drink. He seemed like he was thinking about your words, and with each second that ticked by, you grew more nervous. Was he about to yell at you for hiding such a big part of your life? Was he going to break up with you right then and there?

“Don’t be a dumbass.” He finally said. “I don’t give a shit what you do, long as you like doin’ it.”

His voice was harsh, but it made your heart soar.

“Thank you,” you said, letting out a relieved sigh.

“For what?” He grunted.

When he saw the sappy look on your face, he groaned and motioned for you to come closer. When you came and stood near his legs, he rolled his eyes, reaching out with one strong arm and pulling you down to straddle his lap.

“I don’t fuckin’ care what your job is.” He said, a big hand settling on your ass. “Kinda pissed me off that you kept hidin’ it from me, but I figured you’d bring it up at some point. Then you just fuckin’ didn’t, so I did.”

“How the hell did you find out?” You asked, suspicious that he had gone through your shit or something.

In that moment, the great Katsuki Bakugou actually blushed.

“Uh...” he looked away, avoiding your eyes. “I...mighta caught a livestream once.”

Your eyes widened. “You what?”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, I tuned in once or twice.”

“What? When?”

“I didn’t go lookin’ for you specifically like a creep!” he said roughly.

When you just quirked an eyebrow, he sighed.

“It was right at the beginnin’. Remember that first date we went on? You were wearin’ that green dress...”

“Of course I do,” you smiled.

Bakugou readjusted his grip on you and you settled in against his chest. “You wore that fuckin’ dress, ‘n you got me so god damn worked up with that.”

“Did I?” You teased, already knowing the answer. You were well versed in the world of horny men, and you could very vividly remember all of his awkward shifting and not so stealthy readjustments.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he groaned. “Had a hard on the whole night. Thought I was gonna explode by the time I got home.”

“Well, you’re pretty good at exploding,” you laughed, leaning your cheek against his chest as you looked up at him. “You could have invited me in, you know.”

“Nah, I was bein’ a gentleman. I mean, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, princess...but I asked you to dinner because I liked you. And when I ask a girl to dinner, I fuckin’ do it right. After I got home, I had to go rub one out...’n that’s when I found you on that camsite.”

You blushed. “Yeah, I, uh...remember going home and deciding I should go live for a few hours, since you made sure to have me home by nine.”

He rolled his eyes at your joking tone. “Yeah, yeah. I saw you under the now online tab, ‘n I couldn’t stop watchin’...”

“That was a good night,” you grinned. “I went straight from having some of the fanciest food I’ve ever tasted to having one of my work nights ever. I mean, I remember hitting my tip goal in like, half an hour! Because my highest tipper was some new guy and—“

You paused, realization dawning on you.

“Wait just a goddamn second.” You leaned back, sitting up to look at Katsuki suspiciously.

The shit eating grin on his face confirmed your suspicions.

“What, babe?” He drawled. “You were gonna tell me all about your highest tipper. Don’t stop now.”

“My highest tipper,” you jabbed your finger into his chest, “was a new guy whose username I had never seen before, who had to have a lot of money to pay what he did.”

“Yeah, well. There’s all kindsa rich people on those sites. They love gettin’ off to pretty pieces of ass like you.”

“And he even ended up tipping enough tokens to cover my bills that month,” you rose up on your knees, straddling him again. “He had to have been a celebrity. Or a CEO. Or a pro hero.”

His grin only widened. “Musta been.”

“Katsuki, I cannot believe you!” You laughed, lightly slapping his chest. “All this time, you’ve been watching me from a burner account?”

“Well, I can’t exactly just put my hero name out there,” he chuckled.

“Because it would be all over the tabloids?” You guessed.

“What? No, because you woulda found out right away. Like I said, I wanted you to come to me first.”

“That’s...really sweet of you, actually,” you sighed. “Thanks, Katsuki. For not telling everybody.”

“Well...”

“...you told Kirishima, didn’t you?”

“I was excited about how hot my new girlfriend was!” He said defensively. “‘N it’s not like he was gonna do anythin’ bad, anyways.”

“Yeah, there’s not a mean bone in that man’s body,” you laughed, sliding back down onto your boyfriend’s chest. “I just can’t believe you. How are you so good at keeping secrets from me?”

“You tried to do the same thing to me,” he pointed out.

“Well, now we’re even. But...I don’t exactly think the world would like knowing that a top hero is dating a camgirl.”

“Like I care.” He rolled his eyes. “You know how popular you’re gonna be when rumors start flyin’?”

“Rumors?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Oh, yeah. Everybody’ll wanna find out if that’s really the pussy that the best pro hero is poundin’ every night.”

“Katsuki!”

“What? It’s true.”

You were quiet as you thought for a moment. “You know, if you sign a model release, your dick can be on cam...”

His face lit up. “You wanna suck this cock in fronta all your loyal fans, baby? Wanna show em what a fuckin’ size queen you really are?”

“Full of ourselves tonight, aren’t we?” You asked dryly.

“You’re gonna be fulla my cum soon enough,” he flirted, leaning down to nip at your jaw. “C’mon, Princess. I gotta get my practice in before I can be your stunt dick.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagines #bnha imagine #bakugou imagine #pro hero bakugou

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fleursdemeduse · 3 years ago

Text

Remembrance AU: Constant Dying

This is not going in the direction that was originally planned, but I'm not sure I'm too upset by it. I'm glad to finally post a part that goes a bit further into Techno's feelings about you this time, though. I'm also starting to work on an angsty Simpbur fic alongside this one, so keep an eye out for that.

Warnings: Mention of death ; Near-death

Words: 3.6k

Your legs throbbed as you trudged through the multiple paths to where you and Techno had been mining. Your neck wasn’t fairing much better. There was always residual pain after a death, especially when you were killed by your own stupidity and not mobs or someone else. You were more than happy to take hits for your friend, often shielding his body with your much smaller one to protect him, but natural deaths were pointless to you. Not to mention that dying this many times in such a short period made an ache develop on the right side of your brain and you knew you wouldn’t be able to be rid of it for hours. You finished descending carved stairs to where you believed you had been and let out a sigh at the effort. Your chest filled with a dull ache at the action. A firework to the chest was certainly a quick way to die. It was far from the most painful as long as it got the job done in one or two shots and the ache would only last another hour or two if you would stop dying.

You thought back on how the events from earlier in the day had transpired. The entire thing had been a shit show and you loathed the next time you’d speak to Wilbur, knowing you were likely going to just yell at him. You weren’t in a great mood because of his little stunt. At least you knew why Techno had killed you and several others on the server. There was no reason for him to sit back and watch Tubbo be executed by your dearest friend. You could only hope that the boys new scars weren’t too bad. He’d have to display them for the rest of this lifetime, after all. Maybe he’d think they were cool like Tommy did.

You slowly unclenched your jaw and relaxed your shoulders, smiling a little at the thought of blond that you spent the other half of your days doting on. He was like the little brother you had always imagined wanting. Mumza had filled your prayers in some fashion, you supposed. A small chuckle spilled from your lips, deciding you’d make Technoblade pay you back somehow for your deaths today. You were up to three now.

A smile curled your lips as you thought of the possibilities. Maybe you’d steal his crown for a little bit. Or his cloak. You giggled to yourself as you crossed the lava pit that you were going to use later for obsidian. Mining in caves this deep was difficult enough without mobs so the lava was a good way to make sure none spawned nearby. Perhaps you could get away with all of the above with the addition of forcing him to make you a cup of tea. That would certainly be fair, wouldn’t it? You were sure if you convinced chat, you’d be able to make him do it.

The ore had been mostly cleared out, all that remained were long tunnels deep underground spanning for what felt like forever. It took you a good chunk of time, but finally you approached him from behind. He had continued mining, cobblestone covering the hole that you had fallen down and ultimately died upon impact in. “You grabbed my stuff, right?”

He pointed to the chest that had been set up, not stopping his assault on a piece of diorite. You flipped open the lid, pulling out several stone pickaxes he had managed to pick up. You didn’t suppose he had kept most of the stone, leaving it in the cave, but the ores, redstone, and lapis you had gathered sat untouched in the chest. “I don’t understand why you continue to use those. They’re flimsy.”

You shrugged before joining his side again, mining away the soft rock. “Because I can keep a large stock of them and don’t have to waste the durability of my diamond one.” You stopped paying attention to the coal you mined at above you as you looked towards him. “Besides, they’re expendable and I don’t have to worry about retrieving them every time I-”

Gravel began to fall on and around you in heavy chunks, obscuring your vision. You were startled for a moment at the sudden assault and you cursed your horrible luck. Of course the moment you were back and trying to resume your task, you’d almost die again. You recovered quickly, feeling the pressure around you as you were crushed and tried to dig your way out of the pile, but more seemed to just fall and replace the gravel you had just removed. It was suffocating. Rocks grated against your skin and you cringed at the sound of them rubbing against each other. You tried to claw your way through, fingers getting scraped as small pebbles cut the flesh. You were running out of air. You hated dying like this.

A hand grasped your bicep and you grunted as you were yanked out of the rubble. Rocks and flint shifted around you as it gave way and filled in the spot where you had just been. A broad chest cushioned you as you stumbled forward. You sucked in air as you rested your forehead against him. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before."

Your laugh was more of a wheeze as you smacked your hand against him, next to where your head rested. You didn’t move, however. Techno chuckled as he pat your back. He’d let you have your moment to calm yourself back down. He wasn’t particularly scared of you dying again, but he knew it had to have sucked. You had been taking the brunt of damage meant for him since, well, every time the two of you spent time together, and he didn’t understand why you were so eager to do it. On top of your clumsiness that already resulted in countless other deaths he didn’t know about, you died for him often when it would have probably only resulted in a minor wound for him. You were so reckless. But that smile you gave him every time somehow dissipated his annoyance more than it should have. It was familiar somehow. The voices loved it more than they should have. They loved you more than they should have.

You didn’t care who he was, how he was, what he did, if he could do something for you. You cared about him. Whenever he was giving too much to the rebellion, whenever he was hyper fixated on tasks and was trapped in his own brain with only chat as company, you were always there. They didn’t mind receding to the back of his head while you two talked, adding in small quips here and there. The loud roar they normally were was typically a small rumble when you were talking. It put him on edge with how much they liked you, but he couldn’t blame them. You provided conversation more often than not. You offered simpler solutions to long problems in his head he’d been breaking apart over and over until it had spiraled into a bigger one than it had started out at. But besides that, you also forced him to sleep, to remember to drink water, to take time for himself. To care about himself the way you did. He didn’t know how to repay you for the unending kindness you showed him. Especially when all you asked for was his friendship in return.

He felt you sigh against him and he moved his arm to free you. You were looking up at him, though, not stepping away.

"Are you alright?" His lips twitched. Shouldn’t he be asking you that?

"Yeah, why?"

"You look mad." A snort escaped him. You couldn’t even see his expression past the mask.

"That's just my face.” You didn’t look convinced. He ran his fingers through your hair, knocking some debris loose. It fell to the floor at your feet. He ignored the way you leaned into his touch. “I’m alright, [y/n].”

You smiled at him. You smiled that cursed smile. It made him feel worthy of the title god; so full of reverence and kindness. You had to have been blessed by Kristin herself. How could you still look upon him like that after what had happened at the festival? How could you show such adoration for a-

“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” He turned his head away. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be the recipient of that smile made from sheer adoration. Your eyebrows furrowed and your smile wavered.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like how Wilbur looks at you.” Your laugh rang through the tunnels. It echoed off the walls and he couldn’t help the swell of something in his chest. For a moment, you reminded him of Phil.

“Why is it a bad thing if I look at you like he does to me? He’s a really dear friend.” Oh dear.

“Don’t tell him that.” The idea of you only seeing him as a friend would break his heart floated unspoken in the air. You didn’t seem to notice it.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.” Techno stepped back from you when it was obvious you weren’t going to do it yourself. He watched you deflate slightly and felt like he had done something wrong.

“It’s not like he wants to talk to me now anyways.” You picked up your pickaxe again, moving to work on the pile of gravel. He offered you his shovel and you took it. “He hasn’t said a word to me since the festival earlier.”

“I’m honestly surprised you’re still talkin’ to either of us after that debacle.” You paused your digging to look at him curiously. “After me bein’ peer pressured into killin’ Tubbo and everyone else. Killin’ you. His plan to do nothin’ ‘bout it. It’s surprisin’ that you aren’t givin’ us both the silent treatment.”

You scoffed, going back to the gravel in front of you. “That wasn’t his plan.”

Techno stilled, his eyebrows furrowing. “What?”

“Wilbur wasn’t planning on just doing nothing. He has TNT planted all around Manburg.” You hesitated, the grip on his shovel tightening in your trembling hands as you continued digging. “I don’t know why he didn’t set it off.”

There was no sound next to you or behind you. Stopping your work, you looked at him, only to see him looking towards where the mouth of the cave was. “We should be gettin’ back.”

A soft sigh left your mouth. “Go on ahead, I’m right behind you.”

You didn’t want to face the fallout.

You returned to Pogtopia late that night. Mining alone had been a good way to soothe your nerves after the events that had happened earlier. Whilst you had wished Techno had been there longer, you understood wanting to regroup. Today had been stressful for all of you.

You walked down the crude steps that had been made after putting the excess resources into the communal chest at the top. There was soft murmuring and the distant sound of Wilbur’s cackle put you a little on edge, but you soldiered on. It’s okay. Tubbo hopefully would have respawned by now. Things would go on. You froze at the top of the walkway down to the primary meeting area.

Techno was wrapping his knuckles with some extra gauze you recognized to be from your chest. Tommy was sitting a little away from him, his back to the wall and his knees to his chest. There was a distant look in his eyes as he stared at the ground in front of him. You could see a sliver of one of your plasters on his face, the bluish purple fabric and white dots a dark galaxy against his pale cheek. Your feet were moving before your brain as you ran to the teenage boy and knelt before him. You should have come back sooner. You reached out to hold him before hesitating, choosing instead to extend your hand to examine the flesh around the bandage. “You look horrible, Tommy. What happened? I thought you were safe after what happened at the festival.”

Techno grunted from the sidelines. “We resolved our issues.”

The boy before you huffed, still looking at the ground, but he leaned into your touch. “Resolved is a strong word, but we’re okay. For now.” He looked up at you and you pursed your lips together. He relaxed at the worry in your eyes. He was safe with you. “Where were you?”

“I was mining. I needed to blow off steam after all of that.” The blond just nodded, pressing his face further into your touch. You moved closer to brush some of the golden locks away from his face with your free hand. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Techno was suddenly beside you both, towering over the two of you. “It stays in the pit.”

You sent him an inquisitive look. “The pit?”

He only nodded and your frown deepened. Anger started to fester in you. Did he do this? To a child? “We are definitely discussing this later, Technoblade.” You watched his shoulders tense for a moment. You didn’t know if it was because of your tone or the use of his full name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. You’d take care of it later. You two always talked things through, and now would not be any different, but you had to worry about Tommy. “You can’t just hurt people and say things are better now.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but you were already helping the blond up to shuffle him to your bed. The child kept trying to wave you off, but you persisted. Despite your ire against him, something shifted in his chest at watching how gentle you were with Tommy. His bond with you was truly something to behold.

Why aren’t they paying attention to us like earlier?

They’re so sweet to him.

Tommy's lucky we didn’t accidentally kill him.

I wonder how they’re so close.

I don’t want to talk to them later.

Why are they mad at us?

So they’re not upset about the festival, but they’re upset about a fight with Tommy? That makes no sense.

Follow them.

This is stupid.

Do they like him more?

Techno sat back in his spot against the ravine wall. He saw traces of a fireplace and used the heel of his boot to push around the sooty remains. Most of the questions chat had were valid, but he didn’t want to pursue you. He didn’t want to have that conversation later, either. He just wanted to move on. But he knew you wouldn’t. Something about how resentment ruins friendships and miscommunication was the biggest cause. He could never resent you. Sometimes he resented the gods, but never you.

He wanted to know what kind of entertainment DreamXD and Kristin got out of watching them over and over and over again. Did they have nothing better to do than continuously create and orchestrate each new lifetime? Each new world with different rules and a different storyline? Or recreate other worlds just to change the plot? There had been so many, but this was the first where they all remembered. This was the first where he had met you.

Techno closed his eyes. None of his lives had been bad. Well, particularly bad. Wilbur always seemed to get off worse than he did. Tommy sometimes worse than them both.

He remembered a life of gilded castles, one of many. He trained Wilbur and Tommy in combat. He studied politics and was a general. He watched the two of them grow up in Phil’s absence. There were handmaidens that were too bold in their words, butlers that were too polite, and inside jokes between him and the guards. There were dinners made of things that he only wished they could recreate here. He remembered that despite any squabbling, they were still very much a family. He knows Tommy remembers that one all too clearly. He doesn’t talk about it often, but Techno knows the look in his eyes whenever Phil is mentioned. He also speaks sometimes about the servant that once tended to his mother but he nor Wilbur could ever recall one. Too many faceless employees. Too many nameless soldiers.

He remembered a different life where Hanahaki Disease roamed rampant. The flowers infected most of the people he knew. Sometimes they got better, sometimes they didn’t. Phil would never catch it. The blurry memory of his friend saying so flashed briefly in his head. That fact didn't surprise him in the least. Phil was a catch. But he had never had to deal with the deadly buds either. He couldn't remember why. His head throbbed gently as he tried to wade through the fog. Wilbur had suffered from it, though. It was devastating when he passed. The flowers choked him, stuffing his airways with petals. Who had he loved so much it killed him? Didn't he love anyone like that? Didn’t he find someone so beautiful that dying was more preferable than a life without them? Maybe he did. There were small flashes in his head of the gentle squeeze of a hand and a smile that could snuff out the sun. Why couldn't he seem to remember their face?

There was another life. A life where markings appeared on his skin. Little scratches, cuts and scrapes that weren't his, doodles, words that he would have never written himself. He remembered sitting through a lecture once, smiling at the little stars that speckled his arm and slowly appeared like the night sky in the twilight of the setting sun. Wilbur had shown off the same markings, and it was brutal irony that the two of them shared this connection with a third. They would play games frequently. Mostly twenty questions or tic tac toe, but locations and true names were always burning scribbles on their flesh when attempted. They tried many tactics to find out more before Wilbur had told them both off. He wonders if they had found their third in that life.

There had always been gaps in his memory, especially when it came to his other lives. Lulls where the mundane had become just a bit too mundane, moments where he just shut his brain off and went by instinct. Things were easier when you didn’t have past lives to think about. When he didn’t have to consider if he had already learnt a lesson and was doomed to repeat it. When you weren’t around to give him glares and words of encouragement and cause disruption in his life. Were Tommy and Wilbur’s lives more difficult with you here too? With someone to tell them what to do and to patch up their wounds and give fleeting touches that were so soft it was like touching a petal? He hopes not.

A sound of distress comes from the direction you and Tommy had gone in and he turns to look. You’re standing there, facing away from him, reaching out towards empty space to someone who wasn’t there. You must’ve been the one to make the noise.

You turn around and his frown deepens. You look tired and more than a little frustrated. It was amazing how much of a difference you stood now compared to the person that clung to him throughout the nether when he had first met you. Your presence was easy. You didn’t ramble like he would disappear anymore. You didn’t look to him for validation with every move. You didn’t act out of the desperation isolation had instilled in you. You had settled like the missing puzzle piece they didn’t even know was missing. Did you ever visit the library that you had once called your first home?

He watches you finally approach him, sitting and leaning against his side as if you weren’t upset. You move to intertwine your arm with his, hand slipping into his own. He didn’t stop you. “Wilbur, he’s-”

“Crazy? Yeah, I know. He wants me to set off withers.” You sat straight up. Shock painted your face a hue that didn’t suit you. Or perhaps it was fear. He didn’t like it.

“Withers?” He nods. Your head spins back to the direction of your bedroom. “Does Tommy know?”

“Tommy knows. I went along with it.” Techno feels you scoot away, releasing your hold on him and he already misses the feeling. “It’s not like we’re tryin’ to salvage the place, [y/n].”

“I don’t want more innocent people to lose another life, Tech.” You look at him once more. “Do Tommy and Wilbur know that you’re hoping to leave nothing behind? Because they both talk about reestablishing L’manburg when given the chance.”

“I keep tellin’ them the truth, but it seems like they’re not gonna listen.” He watches your face fall into a look that he hopes meant acceptance. Your eyes moved to the ground between you both and you just nodded. You didn’t know where you would sit in the aftermath of this all.

Techno felt your hand slip back into his as you take your place back against his side. Pink hair was soft against your cheek as you rested it against his shoulder.

“One step at a time. Let’s worry about getting rid of Schlatt first, okay?” He just nods back, resting his head on top of yours. You squeeze his hand in response. You felt safe again, especially with him next to you “Now-

Tell me about this pit.”

#RemembranceAU #dsmp au #dream smp au #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: death

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buckys-forgotten-plum · 4 years ago

Text

Hold Me Tighter ||3||

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Peter and reader have a talk and Bucky overhears.

Warnings: Swearing I think? A big of angst, fluff, Buck jumping to conclusions bc he’s a soft dummie...

A/N: Hej hej friends, it’s been a bit since i’ve posted something. My life has been wild and though i’ve been working on various things I have yet to complete said various things. Hopefully posting this gets me back into the groove. Please enjoy and give me feedback as its very much appreciated!! <3

Part ||1|| Part ||2||

~~~~~~

“Do you have an ace?”

“Nope, go fish,”

“Do you have a crush on Bucky?”

You almost drop your hand full of cards on the ground as the words leave the man's mouth.

“Wha-Peter!”

“What? It kinda looks obvious, on both sides, but it’s like you guys or holding back or something,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly as he plucks a card from the deck before laying down another set of matches.

You pout, “Why are you so good at this game?”

“Answer my question first,” He laughs lightly while playfully nudging your shoulder with his fist.

You and Peter had been the ones left at the tower while the team was on their latest mission. You felt grateful for the company, or at least you did before he started asking questions while he taught you how to play various card games. The pair of you sat facing each other, legs crossed and knees almost touching as the deck of cards sat in the middle.

“I dunno… Maybe?” You could feel the fire in your cheeks and ears as you answered, forgetting to ask if Pete had a card and taking straight from the deck instead.

Peter smiled widely and set down the few cards he still had, putting his full attention on you, “That’s great, Y/n! I think he likes you too! Why haven’t you guys gotten together yet? You spend like every day with each other when Bucky isn’t on a mission. He even cooks for you all the time and I’ve never seen him do that with anyone-”

“Peter, it's not like that. I’m pretty sure he just thinks of me as like… A charity case or something. He’s helped me a lot since I’ve gotten here but it was solely because he felt obligated too. Kind of like when you find a puppy on the street,” You set your cards down to the side as well, using your free hands to nervously tangle your fingers together.

“That's ridiculous! Y/n he calls you pet names all the time, he carries you around, I even saw him kiss your cheek before he left!” Peter points an accusatory finger at you.

Your eyes widen in shock and you stutter before responding, “Why are you paying so much attention to us? It’s weird how much you notice...And besides, lately he hasn’t really been the same. He tells me that he’s always busy with training or meetings or something, and I get that it happens, especially with what you guys do! But it just feels like he’s been avoiding me lately,”

“The whole team has noticed! You guys have done almost everything but make it official,” The man sighs exasperatedly before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against yours, a silly habit the two of you developed for serious conversations, making you giggle a bit before pushing back, “You should talk with him about it dude,”

You keep your forehead pressed against Pete's, sighing quietly before responding, “I just think… If he doesn’t feel the same way, then everything is going to change. He won’t want to spend time with me anymore, or talk to me, he won’t wanna watch movies with me… He just- he won’t be able to think of me as more than just the silly mutant that’s been obsessed with him for as long as she’s known him,” Your face had scrunched up into a scowl as you thought about what life would be like without Bucky by your side.

“Hey, hey, hey! He won’t do that, I promise. Bucky isn’t like that, he’d never just start to ignore you or think of you as some obsessed girl. It’s obvious he cares about you a lot, and I think it would be good for both of you to talk about it,”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start-”

“Start with how you feel, put it all out in the open,” Pete says confidently.

“That’s crazy!”

“How is it crazy?”

“I can’t just go up to him and say, ‘Hey I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been deeply enthralled and have wanted to be with you since the first time we met!’”

Peter was about to respond, but a deep voice interrupted, “Y/n?”

You and Pete pull your heads apart and gape at the tall brunette standing in the doorway, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown and his eyes full of confusion. “Bucky I-”

He puts a hand up before you can continue, “I um-I gotta go shower. Sorry I interrupted you guys,”

You sat frozen on the floor as Bucky quickly made his exit, Peter switching his gaze between you and the now empty doorway. “Oh my god-” he muttered in absolute bewilderment.

“Wh-what just happened? What should I do? Oh my god he hates me! He’ll never speak to me again-”

“No! No, no, no it’s fine! Just a misunderstanding! You need to go after him and clear it up,” Peter tells you, hurriedly standing up before grabbing your hands and helping you stand. “You need to tell him everything Y/n. *Everything.*”

You nod your head in agreement, starting for the doorway, “Thanks pete, I’ll see you later,”

Peter’s response doesn’t quite register as you quickly walk down the maze of hallways, trying to find the fastest possible route to Bucky’s room. Your heart felt like it was pounding hard enough to escape your chest.

You let out a yelp as you suddenly hit a wall, “Oh hey kid, you seen Barnes yet? He was lookin for ya,” Tony’s hands are on each of your arms to steady you as he begins to ask how your week with Peter went.

You can’t focus on any of his questions, solely focused on fixing the mess you had made.

“Kid? You okay?” Tony steps closer to you, his overbearing father coming out as he reaches up to check your temperature, “hmm maybe we should get you to med, you feel a little hot,”

“Tony I’m fine-” You try and back out of his grasp but he holds onto you firmly.

“Hey if you’re gettin’ a fever we want to catch it quick-”

“I don’t have a fever, please-”

“C’mon, it’ll only take a minute,”

“Oh my god, goodbye!” You huff out before pushing Tony away from you and using your power to disappear from the hallway.

Tony lets out an annoyed sigh, “If you get anyone else sick you’re the one who’s taking care of them!” he shouts into the empty space.

You however, had already popped up outside of Bucky’s door, your hands clenched into fists of stress and nerves. Your right hand went to open the door but when you tried to twist the handle it didn’t budge.

“Friday can you let me in?”

“Mr. Barnes has specified to not be bothered for the time being,” The AI responded simply.

You let out a huff of frustration, “Okay well it’s either you unlock the door and let me in or I just pop up in there, so…”

There was a moment of silence before you heard the quiet click of the door unlocking, making you smile victoriously, “Thank you, Friday,”

Bucky was still in the bathroom with the door closed when you had entered his room. You took a quick look around before deciding to sit on the bed and wait for him to be done. Your fingers began to tangle and pull at themselves in a stressful manner and you couldn’t help the tight feeling in your chest. It only got worse when you heard the running water turn off and the sound of Bucky drying and dressing himself.

When Bucky opens the door, the both of you freeze in place, eyes locked on to each other for what felt like ages.

Bucky is the first to break eye contact and move, “I thought I told Friday I didn’t want any visitors,” he mumbles quietly, going over to toss the damp towel in his hands into a laundry hamper.

“I uh- I told her I would just pop in anyways…”

“Shouldn’t invade people's privacy like that, kid,” his cold tone made you cringe, “can’t start abusing your power like that,”

“Listen Bucky, I came here to explain-”

“You don’t gotta explain anything to me. I saw what I saw, it’s not a big deal,” he interrupts you and avoids your eyes as he begins to unpack from his mission.

“Except I think you might not understand entirely-” you begin only to be interrupted again.

“No! No, I get it. Pete is a good kid, good morals, good background. I can see why you’d like him, it makes sense,” Bucky’s voice was clearly stressed as he spoke and it just made your chest tighten even more.

“Bucky no-”

“He’s closer to your age, you have a lot in common, spend a lot of time together…”

“Why is everyone interrupting me today?” you groan out in frustration before getting up off of the bed and walking over to the disgruntled man.

You move to sit on the other side of the duffle bag he continues to empty, still avoiding your eyes. You let out a huff of annoyance and quickly grab hold of Bucky's hands, bringing them to a pause.

“Kid, I gotta unpack-”

“No. Not until you let me say what I need to say. Without interrupting me,” You state firmly.

Bucky visibly clenches his jaw, giving you a small nod to continue, “You didn’t hear me say those words to Peter-”

“Yes I di-” “What did I just say? No interruptions!”

Bucky sighs, “Sorry,”

You take another breath before restarting, “You didn’t hear me say those words to Peter. You heard me telling him about what I’d say to someone else,”

Bucky’s face scrunches up in confusion as he replays your words in his head, trying to put the pieces together, but failing. “Who were you going to say-”

“You! Ya big dummy. I was telling Peter what I would say to you,” You blurt out with a breath of exasperation.

Bucky shook his head, as if to try and wake himself up from a daydream, “Are you serious?”

“Yes! Of course I am, Buck. I- Peter said that it would be good for the both of us if I admitted my true feelings for you, and I didn’t know what I would say, so he suggested that I just flat out tell you, and…” You trail off, hoping the older can figure out the rest on his own.

“And that’s when I walked in? When you had figured out what exactly you’d say?”

“More or less, yeah,” you answer quietly, giving Bucky’s hands a gentle squeeze to try and bring even more reassurance.

“Why were you so close to each other?” You looked back up to Bucky, a smile gracing your features as his gaze finally met yours.

“Because we were having a serious discussion. Isn’t that what everyone does?” You ask, brows slightly knit in confusion.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “No I think that’s only you two,”

“Oh…”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, mulling over what you’d like to say next and trying to organize your thoughts. When Bucky didn’t say anything for a while you decided to continue on, “So um...Do you maybe uh-maybe do you feel the same way? About me?”

Bucky doesn’t even wait a beat to answer, “Oh my god yes! Yes I’ve felt the same way for ages, doll!”

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you take in the new information, “You have?”

Bucky nods his head, a smile on his face as he looks into your eyes, “Sweetheart I’ve been head over heels for you since I first caught you in midair,” he chuckles.

You grin at Bucky and feel the familiar flickering of your powers take place, knowing your emotions were much too strong to stop it. Within the blink of an eye you had popped out of existence and popped right back up into Bucky’s lap, making him fall over in a huff of laughter.

You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into the softness of his hair, “What gives then you goof? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a tight squeeze, “Once you started gettin’ the hang of your powers and began training with the rest of the team, I dunno… It felt like you didn’t need me there for you anymore, I didn’t want to risk holding you back from making new friends and connections,” Your heart split in two hearing Bucky’s explanation.

You pull your face out of his lovely smelling hair and stare into the soldier's pretty blue eyes, “That’s silly Bubba. You would never hold me back! You’re the reason why I’m so comfortable around everyone now. You gave me the strength to get out of my comfort zone,” Bucky grinned at your words and shook his head, mentally chiding himself for being so foolish.

“M’sorry lovie, I guess I got in my own head about everything. Almost messed it all up too because I got so upset when I saw you and Peter,” Your chest swelled with happiness when he calls you one of your favorite nicknames, knowing the two of you were back to normal.

“It’s okay! I can understand why you thought what you did. But I promise I’ve only ever been deeply enthralled with you,” You laugh and push your forehead up against Bucky’s, making him let out a deep melody of chuckles.

“Does this mean I don’t have to hold back anymore? I can love on you as much as I want?” Bucky pairs his question with an affectionate nuzzle in the crook of your neck before looking back up into your gleeful eyes.

You giggle and brush your nose up against his as you nod your head, “You coulda done that before,”

Bucky’s hands move from around your waist to your thighs, easily lifting the both of you up from the plush carpet, “M’never lettin’ you go ever again. Gonna hold on real tight, sweet girl.”

You keep your arms wrapped around his neck and try to pull Bucky closer, burying your face back into the crook of his neck and breathing him in. He moves the two of you over to his bed and flops down onto it, pulling the both of you under the covers and tangling his legs with yours. The two of you stay like that for what feels like ages.

A perfectly content tangle of happiness and relief.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes request #marvel fic #Winter Soldier #peter parker #tony stark #Bucky angst

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prisonprocess · 3 years ago

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Tim Goes to Prison

38.

The guys in jail were mostly chill young dudes. It was fun to listen to what they said. They talked a lot about sports and their old ladies, which wasn’t something I was interested in, but I was definitely interested when they talked about their crimes. They always said that their charges were “just a lotta bullshit, man,” but they liked talking about how they broke the law and how not to get caught and so on. So I learned a lot. I even learned how to smoke, cuz they were all smugglin stuff into the jail, including smokes, and showing me how to have a bat without gettin caught. I paid for my bats with the cash I earned from playing cards, cuz I’m so good at games, and there’s always a game in jail. The trick was not to win too much, but I could do that. Let the wookiee win, lol! And hide the cash, but everybody knew how to do that.

So this was the first time that I, like, really learned stuff. Too bad I couldn’t learn about sex, but these dudes were all probly straight. Anyways, they didn’t stay in jail long enough for me to find out. Soon as I got to know them, they got out on bail or their sentence ended or they copped a plea for time served or whatever. Pretty soon I’d been in there longer than almost anybody else. But I was still enjoying myself. I had my bunk and my orange clothes and my three meals a day. The other dudes complained about the chow, but it was better than my mom ever cooked! And I never had to see her!

You may be wondering about why I was the guy that was still in jail. For one thing, my dad was refusing to bail me out, which, thank God for tough love! For another thing, he did pay for this lame “attorney.” Every week or so I’d go to the Visiting Room and lean into my little hootch and talk to him through the little window, and he was this young guy in a suit and he was always looking back at me like, I hate being here but I really love lookin at you in that orange clown suit, DUDE. And he’d tell me he’d filed another motion or whatever, which was cool with me cuz it was keepin me in jail week after week without even a trial or anything. But then! one day he was, like, bragging about his “strategy,” and how his “strategy” was to, like, delay my case as long as he could, “till the media attention goes away and they’ll go easy on you because they all forgot what happened and they don’t know enough to even google it and then you’ll be getting out with a slap on the wrist.” That’s when I finally realized, like what! This dude wants to keep me OUTTA prison!

So I got mad and I lied and I told him I was goin crazy from all the wait and so on and I just wanted to get it all over with, and he said, “If that’s how you feel, then maybe you don’t want me as your attorney.” So then I knew he wanted to get rid of me, and why not? I knew he hated me to begin with. So I got all crying and blubbering and so on, and pressing my hands up against the glass like please help me, and I told him I don’t want a delay and I don’t want a plea deal, I just want to confess how, like, nasty and evil I am and then take my punishment, and I’d be ashamed to go home and see my dad again, and it was time for me to sign whatever and go to court and get my ass sentenced and put away. I didn’t say “ass,” cuz I was pretending to be real serious and cry.

So in a few days I got to sign a statement and some other stuff, and a week after that I went to court and I did my best to act like a jerk in front of the judge, and it worked, because I got sentenced to 30 years to life.

#uniform #orange #jail

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razrbladekiss · 3 years ago

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Tyrants | Chapter Five - Consolation

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, grief, the aftermath of that death...all that Jazz! Plus a lil moment I’ve been fucking itching to include.

Chibs's breath was stuck in the middle of his throat, jutting thickly the more he thought about Opie cradling Donna's sallow cheeks as she bled out onto the gravel.

It'd cut deep, this one.

So many bodies he had bared witness to over the years. So many lives lost and souls snatched and whatever else right before his undaunted eyes--but nothing really hurt as much as that.

Because he knew what it was like. How it maimed a man. How it felt like his world was hurtling toward the chasms of hell during the moments after arriving at the scene and seeing his wife there. Dead.

Cold and dead and lonely. And completely gone.

Guilt resided, too. It was true tangible remorse for the simple proficiency of; that should've been me.

It happened with Diane--it happened to Chibs's wife, the mother of his kid, and the one true light in his life right after Isla. And it should've been him.

It was brutal, the way it happened tonight. It was fierce and heartless and Chibs knew in a flash that those bullets struck the wrong skull.

He couldn't bear the reverberation anymore, the gutturals from Piney's son who'd just lost his wife for no good reason during a drive-by in their quaint little town. The town that'd swelled wickedly with corruption these last few weeks.

Stahl was at the scene before he left. Looking pensive, actually. She looked guilty.

Chibs's basic instinct had landed the blame at her door--put the blood on her hands--but he kept his mouth shut for fear of what'd happen next. He didn't think that SAMCRO could handle this.

Because this wasn't a product of Mayan or Niner rivalry. He wasn't stupid--he knew that his President had something to do with this.

This was cultivated from the seeds sown by June Stahl, the pips planted so very deeply into the mind of Clay Morrow which forced him to believe that Opie Winston was a rat.

And he wasn't. He'd never sell his club out--no matter the damage, the pain inflicted upon him--and he'd never dream of pinning the fault on his brothers.

But he had to look a little bit closer to home if he wanted those answers. If he wanted to know just who sniped Donna--a completely innocent woman caught in the most ferocious of crossfires--he had to turn to someone that he knew was culpable of such activity.

Chibs's heart ached. It impaired him so very deeply that the only thing he could visualize on the ride back to Jax's house was her face.

Her face that dripped blood. Saturated crimson plagued his thoughts and forced his stomach to churn vociferously. He felt sick now.

He felt sick because Opie had lost his wife, Piney had lost a crucial member of his small family, and her kids had lost their mother. The woman that had worked so tirelessly to provide a life for them, to love and care for them unconditionally no matter what.

Opie was strong, he knew that--but he didn't know if he was strong enough to handle this. This crippling weight, this hurt and the idea of what could've been done differently.

Because so much could've happened to prevent this.

His tongue had become inoculated with bile, acrimonious ire for whoever the fuck was to blame for such unnecessary brutality--and, really, Chibs knew that he didn't have to look much further than Isla's favorite blue-eyed heathen this time.

And that broke his heart because of the pedestal she held that man upon. The pedestal she'd always held him atop, so fucking highly, too.

She knew that he was bad--an inherently bad human being--but he was just Tig. Her buddy. Clay's right hand that, really, he'd always count on. No matter what. And he'd always deliver the king's request, too.

Tig was the one that Isla called when her car broke down on the freeway and she needed to get home in time for Gemma's dinner.

The one she turned to for cheering up because he always knew how to crack a smile and get through to her.

The one that she strangely respected the most. Nobody really recognized what it was about that man that had Isla overjoyed when in his presence, she just was. And that was part of his charm.

But her father was anxious, now. Worried that she would take this news--if it came to light--badly. Because it was going to break her heart, regardless.

It was how she would handle it, which was the true hardship.

"Christ." Chibs's voice struggled to materialize, gesturing to his daughter passed out on Jax's couch. "How long's she been sleepin'?"

Mascara and eyeliner and whatever the fuck else she'd painted onto her face had started to melt away, trails of black and grey faintly running her cheeks.

"'Bout an hour." Gemma responded, sniffling back the putrid emotion she'd so obviously let flood the moments leading up to their arrival.

Jax's stomach was doing backflips at the thought of Isla crying herself to sleep in his living room--after everything that he'd put her through, too.

He feared that this was going to be the tip of the iceberg. That this was going to pulverize her sanity and compromise everything she had sought to fight off these last few days.

And he couldn't help but harbor those same suspicions as her father, either. Jax wanted to keep his mouth shut until he was certain that this was an inside job, but he was teetering toward that conclusion regardless.

It was the only viable explanation.

He, too, worried about what this would do to her. That finding out Tig was the potential culprit and reason why Opie's children were officially motherless.

"How's Ope?" She continued, already knowing the answer but asking anyway. Jax's head shook. "Oh."

"Not good, ma. But he's home now."

"And you're sure of that?"

"Yeah--I followed him back to make sure he got there in one piece. He wanted to leave the second the fuckin' ATF stormed in."

"Oh." Gem repeated herself, running her fingers through Isla's hair as she rested in her lap. "What about Clay? Where'd he get to?"

Chibs took a seat at one of the wooden chairs that'd been positioned around the coffee table, and Jax sank into the couch opposite the girls.

It was pitiful. Darkness enveloped them as Isla slept, innocently resting as the world shattered around her.

She wasn't oblivious to the happenings. She hadn't slept through it all, but she was done. Isla had been distant for days, had been fretting over the unimaginable and Gemma was worried that she was going to make herself sick if she continued the way that she was.

So she twisted her fingers and nails through the flowing waves of golden blonde, and soothed her the same way that she always did.

The same way that she found comfort as a kid.

He sighed. Exhausted. "Dunno. Last I saw he was with Tig."

"Aye." The Scot agreed with a nod, too. Hating the thought of Trager being responsible for something like this.

But it was merely a suspicion that Chibs hoped and prayed would get debunked sooner or later.

"Did he say anything?"

"Nah. He talked a little to Unser--seems to think it was a hit on Ope gone wrong--so, I guess they're gonna be lookin' into the Niners."

"Aye." Chibs spoke again, gesturing to Isla. "Did she say much when we left?"

"Not really--she just busied herself and cleaned up with Wendy. Seems like they're getting along now."

Jax smiled a bit, happy that his best friend and the mother of his child were starting to accept the presence of one another in Abel's life.

Truly, that's all he really wanted. That and his mother finally being able to turn the other cheek, and quit castigating his kid's mom.

"Did Clay leave before you?" Gemma asked, antsy. She was itching to get home, itching to see and comfort her husband because she knew that he was going to be fretting over this.

"I told you, the last I saw, he was with Tig. Dunno if he left after us, or if he's still there."

She looked away, smoothing her thumb over Isla's cheek.

"He'll be home soon--I should take off."

"Not on your own." Jax upheld, simply terrified of what could've happened to his mother had she left alone.

As far as Jax wanted her to know, this was bad blood between clubs. This was a hit put out on an innocent bystander because they knew it'd jolt SAMCRO--and it did.

It shook them to the very fucking core, jutting them repeatedly--mere moments away from crumbling and completely disintegrating into Harley Davidson dust.

And he really didn't want to admit that this was the work of his step-father and Alexander Trager. But he feared that was the only viable explanation.

"I'll--eh--I'll take her back." Chibs offered, getting up to ghost a hand over Isla's blushed cheek. "I was gonna take her home with me tonight, but I think she's better off stayin' put."

Jax agreed with a nod, smiling weakly at his mother. Though, she knew it was a coverup. A not-so-brilliant facade and attempt at showing that he was okay during this barbarous time.

"I don't wanna wake her." She mused, pushing strands of hair from her face. "She looks so damn peaceful."

Gemma hadn't a cozy moment with Isla for a while--not since she was recovering from a broken heart four summers ago.

The last time that she turned to Gemma--the same way she would as a child--for that motherly comfort.

"I know." The older man crouched to the ground, tracing faintly along her arm. Isla grumbled, slowly rousing. "C'mon petal, it's gettin' late."

He kept a hand against her, running this thumb over the freckled skin softly. Diane's crucifix caught his eye as she shifted, impairing him that little bit more tonight.

"What time is it?" She asked roughly, feeling a sting in her throat. Isla lifted herself off of Gemma's lap, rubbing at her eyes. "Is it late?"

"It's about one o'clock."

"Shit." Her hiss was sharp, galled that she'd been allowed to rest for so long whilst there was a literal wildfire sweeping its way through the club. "Ope--oh my god--Opie. Is he okay?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Jax was about to say before he even opened his mouth, and so tears ensued. Crystalline hues weeped and watered, and he was unsettled.

Unsettled because she was so strong in the face of such tragedy, rarely shedding any tears before an audience.

Unsettled because, up until the Kohn incident, Jax hadn't seen her cry since she was shot in the knee after three Mayans decidedly stormed the T M lot and strived to gun down each and every person on the premises.

He never forgave himself for that, actually. Because those bullets--though completely un-fatal and leaving a simple mark that, really, Isla referred to as her battle scars--should've been for him.

"He went home. To be with the kids." Jax cleared his throat, kneeling in front of her when Chibs got to his feet and gestured for Gemma. "He's--uh--he's in a bad way."

"Understandably." She mumbled. "Any ideas on who did this?"

Your favorite son.

"No. Clay thinks it might've been the Niners--shits been off since they decided to pull their fucking guns on us after the warehouse was raided."

"That was their rationale?"

"I guess so." He added. "It'd make sense. We lost their guns, so we lost a life--"

"But Donna." Isla argued, sitting upright. "Donna was innocent."

"We know that, love, but Laroy was probably under the impression that Ope was the one behind the wheel." Her father spoke over Jax, heeding his uncertainty. "It wasn't meant to be her."

Chibs had to blow his theory out of the water, firstly.

"A life is a life. To them, so long as they've got one of ours--someone close to us--they've succeeded with somethin'--"

"All they've succeeded with is leaving two kids without a fucking mother." Isla spat, throwing away the small blanket that Gemma had draped over her as she stood up. "And you've gotta stop being so fucking insensitive."

Jax stumbled backwards, watching her storm out of the room in her pretty little summer dress. He couldn't surmise whether following behind or leaving the woman to simmer alone, was the best idea.

It was a touchy subject, the loss of a parent. It was prickly and raw and it never ceased to strike Isla's heart. Because she understood.

She understood how much it hurt. The uncertainty of it all. Not knowing what to do next. How life changes more than what anyone ever prepares you for and, really, how nothing is ever the same again.

Isla knew it all too well. She'd been there, done that, and refused to go back. But with Chibs's life, his line of work, she was never granted that security.

And it wasn't particularly the security that she wanted, more so the knowledge of what--god forbid anything--would happen to her father. Because that's what bothered her the most about Diane.

She never knew anything about her mother's passing.

Jax got a pretty tight grip on the concept, too. But it was different with Isla--it was something she never quite grasped.

"A life is a life," Gemma mocked the insensitivity from the baffled Scotsman, shaking her head. "That wasn't just any life, Chibs. That was Opie's woman, the mother of his children, and one of Isla's oldest friends--she was family. She wasn't just a life."

His lips twitched before he exhaled sharply, knowing that she was right.

Knowing that his response was much too unsympathetic and heartless and, really, he was an idiot to forget how upset she got whenever something that pertained to the death of her mother was brought up.

"Your kid is grieving. She's grieving for Ope, for Piney, for Kenny and Ellie--for herself because this--" she gestured to nothing in particular, but he understood, "--is something she knows all too well, ain't it? Diane?"

"I know." Tersely, he responded. He pulled a hand through his hair. "I fuckin' know how she feels, but I didn't think she'd storm out when I said it!"

"Well, she's always been unpredictable."

"I know." His riposte was braided with anger, pure fury.

"Then why'd you say it?" Gemma jabbed. "Isla has been about six thousand miles away from us these last few days, and you thought that saying such a stupid thing wouldn't tip her over the edge?"

She was defensive of the blonde--always had been.

And Jax was sick of it.

Sick of the back-and-forth between the two. Sick of that holier than thou bullshit from Gemma--pretending that she wasn't thinking the same fucking thing--and sick of the way Chibs cared more to argue than to go after his daughter.

"Make sure Wendy stays if you two leave--I'm going."

"Where?" Chibs demanded.

But Jax just glared at him, stuffed his hands in both pockets, and walked straight out of the house.

It was cooler, now. The breeze had hit him square in the face the second he stepped over the threshold, and it was nice. To feel a little breeze that'd inevitably take the edge off of the lament sizzling away inside of him, was nice.

It was short lived, though. The second he realized that he couldn't see Isla--that she was completely out of sight--dragged him straight back down to earth, and the panic had set in.

He trusted her, of course he knew that she wasn't going to do anything stupid because she valued her life too much, and she wanted to do great things. So many great things.

But Jax also knew her too well. Well enough to know that the first place she would've thought about storming toward was the Clubhouse--the place that she'd find Tig.

And under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have rushed to get to her before she had a chance to get to T M. But the possibility of walking in and discerning Trager's inconsolable fury--his resentment and self-loathing--was much too great a risk for Jax to take.

He had to intercept.

He had to save her before she got the chance to set foot onto the property.

But, realistically, Jax was more than aware that Isla was probably already halfway there by now, and weaving through the unusual bustle of traffic in his small town just wasn't worth it.

"Shit." He growled, hopping onto his bike regardless. Saving a sliver of hope that he'd find her tonight.

He wasn't exactly optimistic, though. Because she'd already stormed four blocks.

Isla wrapped her cardigan tightly around her body--feeling the cold a bit more than what Jax had earlier--and hastily made her way downtown.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't fear the short walk toward the garage, but it was chilling. The thought of Donna's killer roaming freely, parading around that neighborhood, was daunting.

But she wasn't scared.

Or, at least, Isla wasn't scared until she heeded the red and blue flashing lights right in the middle of the intersection. The apparent murder scene.

Her heart sank, actually. The organ dropped to her stomach, pulsating slowly--barely--at the sight of Charming PD, CSI, and her. The group scattered, conversing, and speculating.

It was horrible. Sick.

She'd seen this before. She'd seen deaths and murders, and whatever came during the moments following. But she hasn't felt this way before.

The incapacitating throb. The discomfort and grief for such a horrendous--albeit freak--accident. And she wasn't stupid. She was as cognizant as her father and as empathetic as Jax, and she knew just as well as those two that this was not a purposeful attack.

Whether it was a consequence of Mayan or Niner misconduct, it was a wrongful onslaught that was about to cull an entire family. An entire charter.

If it hadn't already, that was.

She choked around the swell in her throat, padding along the sidewalk. She took her time, but she wasn't slow by any means. She had a place to be, and a specific person that she had to see--to talk to because she didn't know how to cope with this.

And it wasn't exactly her place to mourn for Donna. She hadn't been involved with her for some five years and she felt bad about the pair unable to rekindle their friendship. She felt bad about grieving the loss of Opie's wife--about taking the focus away from him.

But it hurt. It hurt so much--it sliced deeply, through flesh and tendon and bone--and she knew that Tig wouldn't judge her for this inveterate sorrow. He wouldn't see her as selfish or stupid for wanting to project her sincerities, her emotions.

Her heels clicked across the yard and she smiled a little bit when she passed Juice and Tig's bikes beside one another, letting her know that she wasn't going to be alone in there.

She was scared now, though. Because she hadn't talked about this yet. Hadn't talked about how she felt and how she was going to approach Opie the next time she saw him.

"Juice?" Isla squeaked from the doorway, waiting for him to turn around and run to her, or something. But he didn't move, didn't lift his head.

It was dreary inside. The lights had been dimmed, the men surrounding the tables and bar were downtrodden, and Isla felt as though she'd just walked through the gates of hell.

The vibrancy and boisterous nature of SAMCRO had come to a complete standstill, and she was actually yearning for the sleaze that usually enveloped the space.

Her sigh was defeated, forlorn. She sniffed as her nose ran, making her way to the bathroom to go and clean herself up--because she knew that she looked dreadful, and didn't want anybody to really see her that way.

"Is anyone in here?" She asked softly against the locked door, knowing that the answer was yes and that Tig was the occupant--but she persisted, anyway.

The mellifluous rhythm bled through the oak, jolting him still as blood poured from the gash in his head, and shattered glass surrounded his frame and the sink.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, glaring monotonously at himself in front of the mirror. Glaring at the fucking monster that was about to welcome Isla into open arms, comforting her because he knew that she'd need it.

"Yeah," He opened up, smiling down at her. "But I'm done, if you wanna--"

"What happened to you?" She put a hand against his chest, pushing him back into the room. Her brow furrowed when he didn't respond. "Tiggy?"

His entire body winced at Isla's soft touch. At the way her pink nails traced over the patch of skin on his chest, uncovered by his shirt--the shirt he was going to burn after tonight.

She gently gripped at his chin, turning his face to the right to get a better look at the incision on his left. Her eyes filled again, lips turned downward.

"Let me clean you up."

"You don't gotta--"

"I do." Isla cut him off, blinking away her tears. "If it doesn't get treated, it might get infected."

Like father, like daughter--always the first person to tend to an injury. She was so loving, so benevolent. Nothing like him, he thought.

Tig watched her maneuver around the tiny bathroom, admiring her desire to patch him up. To care for him and help make him feel better.

Not much would've helped at that moment, but she was trying her best.

"How'd you get over here?" He asked, leaning against the sink.

"I walked--"

"You walked?" Pissed, Tig spat. "Jesus fuck, Isla, you can't walk these parts alone, anymore."

She looked up at him from the spot she was crouched at, sifting through a small first-aid kit in the cabinet. "Who said I was alone?"

"Were you?" His eyes narrowed. She got to her feet, putting the small plastic box beside him, looking his face over a few times.

Her head shook. "Nope. Never alone with these thoughts."

Tig couldn't not chuckle at her response, but he was still worried about her. He didn't worry often--he was too selfish for that--but anything to do with his favorite blonde saw him panic like a madman.

"And the voices, too." She mused, breaking out into a genuine smile the first time all evening. "They always keep me real good company."

"Yeah?" Isla's head bobbed, cupping his chin again. "Me too--me 'n you don't seem to be too different after all, baby."

"Never said that we weren't." She poked her tongue out a little bit, surveying the damage. "Never said that we were the same, either."

"We're not the same." He confirmed, curling his hand around her wrist as she held an alcohol pad above his cut. "We are not the same, Isla."

Her head tilted, trying to discern what he meant. But she couldn't, and it caused an uncomfortable shiver to flicker down her spine.

"This might hurt." She whispered in an attempt to dissipate the small tension, gently running her thumb over his chin.

The other was--alongside her pointer finger--tapping the small antiseptic against the wound. She frowned the more he winced, though Tig's smile and hold on her wrist was still present.

"I like the pain."

"I know you do, Tiger." Isla joked. But she couldn't help wondering how the fuck he managed to do this to himself tonight.

Why he would do this to himself tonight.

"I don't wanna have to stitch your pretty face up," she pursed her lips and got him to hold the cotton in place.

"You think I got a pretty face?"

"The prettiest." Her retort was instantaneous, missing that usual glint of something resembling a joke.

She was serious--she wasn't engaging in that usual banter with him today. She was too run down for it, actually.

"Gonna have to give you a couple of butterfly stitches, if that's okay?" Isla looked up at him, holding out the small bandages with a smile. "It won't hurt. And they'll probably dissolve in, like, a week or so."

"Go for it. I love when you play nurse."

She lightly whacked at his chest, laughing as she got him to sit on the closed toilet lid to get a better reach. He wasn't tall, but neither was she. Isla needed him to lower his height if she wanted to successfully repair him.

The comfort, the aid and assistance had him forgetting about tonight--had her forgetting the real reason for her impromptu arrival to the clubhouse--but not forgetting about the newfound misery that encircled SAMCRO.

"You alright?" He asked when she hadn't made a movement, when her eyes seemed to focus on the shelves above the tank of the toilet. "I can do it myself, if you don't wanna--"

"I wanna." The smile she produced was fake--uncomfortable as tears rolled down perfectly blushed cheeks.

It broke his heart. Everything she was doing and saying--and even feeling because her pain was palpable--was breaking his heart and Tig felt like hell for doing this.

"I'm sorry," she stuck the first stitch to his forehead carefully, getting him to rip off the back of the second because her fingers were too shaky to get a solid grip.

"Don't be." He handed it to her. "It's been a tough night."

Her laugh was humorless, dull. "You can say that again, Tiggy."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." She sent him an apologetic look, but he got it.

Isla trusted him with her life--for some reason--but she found it hard to open up sometimes. In regards to something this serious, she struggled to get a solid handle on her emotions and how to express them.

He understood her, though. Understood her well enough, her mannerisms and thought processes, and he just wondered if she felt like divulging her pain tonight.

She didn't, though. And Tig didn't particularly mind that. He didn't want to feel that twisted pang of regret, the vehement churn of his stomach whenever she said Donna's name--which she was yet to do, and she probably wouldn't at this point, either.

"I just wanna cry." She stated plainly, not even reluctantly anymore.

Like Gemma, he hadn't seen her cry for a long time. And it wasn't a nice visual, actually.

But he was supportive, and just wanted her to do anything that'd make her feel somewhat better--so he encouraged it.

Isla put everything down, gave his face the once over for the last time, and set herself on the tile with her back to the door.

"You wanna cry? Do it, baby. If it'll help, just do it." He assured, getting to the ground beside her. "I know you don't like doin' it in front of me, but I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want."

"You make me seem like a battle ax." Isla quipped, sniffling. "I don't care if anyone sees me cry--everyone knows that I do. It's just..."

"Showing vulnerability ain't a nice thought. I know."

God. She hated how well he understood her. How he knew what she was going to fucking say. All the time.

Tig wound an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Instinctively, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I get it." He stated mindlessly, pushing tousled blonde strands from her forehead. "But y'know you can always trust me, kid. I'll never tell anyone that you feel emotions--"

"I'm literally the most emotional person you all know." Isla protested weakly, hoping he didn't mind the feeling of her tears bleeding through his shirt.

He didn't.

"I just don't really like crying. It's not a true testament to my character--I'm supposed to be the happy one around these parts. The sickeningly optimistic Irish girl--"

"You can still be a crier, too."

"I know." She finally wrapped her arms around his middle as they sat together. "But people just don't take girls seriously when they cry. And I don't want my position here to be compromised, I guess. I don't want my dad, or Gemma, or Clay to think I can't handle being around the club anymore--because I can. And I always will."

"They wouldn't think different of you for that." He promised, rubbing circles over her shoulder the more he felt the navy cotton dampen. "This is a real tough thing, Isla, nobody is gonna chastise you for shedding a tear. They'd probably think different of you if you didn't cry."

"You think?"

He nodded.

"Crying shows that you got empathy and a heart. We all know your heart is bigger than..." Thick eyebrows crumpled together before he let out a little chuckle. "Bigger than Clay's ego. It's huge, your heart."

"Well, it's gotta be. If I wanna love all of you--warts 'n all--my heart has gotta be huge."

"Exactly," he drew out his response, earning a laugh and something reminiscent of an optimistic smile from her.

Trager never saw himself as the kind of man to make a girl smile or laugh after a little pep talk--after or before incredible sex, perhaps, but never as a result of his unusually comforting nature.

But he just had that effect on Isla--something she wasn't able to extrapolate verbally. Something she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to comprehend, either.

"You've just gotta try not to make yourself too vulnerable, that's all, 'cuz people will get used to coddling you. And I know that's now what you want."

"That's what I mean." She frowned, pulling herself away a bit. "I don't wanna be seen as inferior for being able to cry about the things that you, or Gem, or dad, are able to keep a poker face over. I'm just...I'm just thin-skinned sometimes, and I'm yet to be desensitized to this stuff, I guess."

"You're not thin-skinned for crying tonight." He scolded, knowing that she didn't want to elucidate her thoughts about the happening, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Desensitization don't mean shit when you've lost someone you care about--it's always gonna hurt, sweetheart. Always. And there ain't nothing you can do to stop that."

He was the one with misty eyes, now. He was the one trying to bite back tears, trying to conceal the spread of his sadness--the uncomfortable soreness in his chest. In his heart that wasn't anywhere near as big and full as hers.

"You're never gonna grow immune to grief--I promise you'll always feel that. Whether you show it--how you show it--is another thing, though."

"You feel it?"

"Tonight?"

"In general."

She couldn't seem to recall the last time that she saw him cry--if she'd ever seen it, actually. Aside from this moment, of course.

Tears fell to the apples of his cheeks and she, without any reluctance, used the pad of her thumb to brush them away.

And he got it, now. The idea of showing vulnerability being a fucking liability. Because the pity washing over her soft, beautiful features made him feel fragile.

"All the time. All the fuckin' time."

"It really never goes away?"

"No." Tig sniffed harshly, forcing a smile. "But you learn to cope. You learn that it ain't the end of the world and that life just goes on after death."

"Profound." She chuckled once again. "That's some deep, deep shit, Tigger. Almost made me forget about how much I wanna hysterically break down."

"Do it. That'll make me feel better about my injury."

"Your self-inflicted injury." Isla stated knowingly, but she didn't clarify just what she meant.

Because it could've been an array of things, but he liked to think that she was just referring to his little forehead aperture.

"I like it. It makes you look badass." Isla held a hand out to Tig when he pulled himself upward, and she wanted to follow suit.

"Does it make me look hot, too?"

"Absolutely." Again, it wasn't laced in a tease. It was honest, and the small smile she produced was sincere. "Be careful with it, though. Try not to get it wet or anything, because it'll dissolve too soon--"

"I've had them before, y'know?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Isla rolled her eyes. "You're a super scary, malicious, calculating guy when you've gotta be. But I know that you're accident prone."

He curled his eyebrow upward. "Scary?"

"Totally. I've seen you hold a gun to a guy's head." A chill impaired her, frightening her. "Shits terrifying, Tig. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"You couldn't even if you tried."

"You think?" Her qualm was unexpected, almost challenging him as she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway. "I think I could."

What's she playing at? She was sobbing two minutes ago.

Oh, I get it. This is her facade--actin' all care free, and shit.

Tig followed behind--every step--as she clicked along the wooden floor of the clubhouse.

"You couldn't. Trust me." He stated lowly, reaching for her hand when she stuttered a little.

Isla noticed her father next time Juice, drinking at the bar with their backs to the duo. She didn't want to see him, right now.

Talking to Chibs would've ignited whatever fucking fire inside of her that'd started to blaze out of control earlier tonight, and she'd worked hard to contain this inferno.

"What you can do, though, is turn your pretty little ass back around, and go get some rest in the dorm. It's been a long night."

She didn't refute, she didn't try to get out of it because she didn't want to. Isla couldn't bear the thought of waltzing past her father, talking to him about her tiny outburst, and resuming as normal.

Because she couldn't do that. Not tonight, anyway.

"Tig?"

"Uh huh." He responded, his eyes glued to the back of Juice's cut as he slammed yet another shot back.

Probably wondering what the fuck had gone down tonight.

"Can you stay with me?" Her retort forced his focus to land on her, and the defenselessness--sheer exposure--in her attitude.

It wasn't the simple fact of wanting to be alone.

She couldn't be alone. Not anymore.

Ringed fingers squeezed her hand reassuringly, guiding her into the back room, holding her close. Because that's what she really, truly wanted.

"'Course I can. Anything for you, Isla."

#tig trager #tig trager x oc #tig trager fic #tig trager fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy fanfiction

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zigtheeortega · 3 years ago

Text

For the past six months, @pixeljazzy and I have been working on a playlist we felt could top last year’s, which was so well received!

We’ve broken it up into sections by individual love interests, multiple love interests, main character, and miscellaneous, which includes side characters, general vibes, etc. Underneath each song are lyrics we believed stood out to us along with explanations as to why we chose it. Like last year, the [p] is for PJ and [j] is for Jade.

Here’s the link to the playlist on Spotify, but we’ve individually linked the songs with each explanation as well!

We sincerely hope you enjoy our 2021 RODAW Playlist!

The Bay, Soft Glas. ft. Mulherin [j]

Leaving you alone is too hard (hard, hard) / I just never know where to start (with you)

I'm not used to leaving someone broken hearted / That might be what really makes this hard (It's hard) / I've never been with anyone this long / If I did it, I really miss you

The softness and apologetic tone of the song reminds me of Logan through and through. He’s so regretful for what he put MC through, both at the beginning when he was lying to her, and by the end when he thinks he’s ruined her life by simply being a criminal and dating her. And by leaving her he’s leaving the one person who’s loved him unconditionally and stuck with him through it all.

Call Me, Nav [j]

They taught me, "Don't forget where you came from" / I regret what I came from

Do you know how it feel to feel alone? / Bought myself a house, to feel like I ain't home / Driving by myself, ain't got nowhere to go / Are you really here for me, I don't know

I hope you mean everything that you told me / I'll try to come back to you, girl, I'm sorry / If you miss me, just call me

This song honestly reminded me of Logan’s backstory that we don’t know much of, besides the fact that he was thrust into a life of crime as a teen and as an adult he hates it. The other lyrics I added are kind of a glimpse into the future I think – wherever Logan is, whatever he’s doing, if he’s not with MC, the woman he loves, everything he accomplishes is gonna feel hollow. And despite him saying that he was leaving to protect her, I know in his heart he’d want her to find her way back to him.

Cold Case Love, Rihanna [p]

I’m torn apart and you know / What you did to me was a crime

We opened up a cold case love / And it got the best of us / And now prints, pictures, and white outlines / Are all that’s left at the scene of a crime / Of a cold case love

The first line reminded me of how MC probably felt after being betrayed by Logan, the one that was arguably supposed to be the closest to them, and then the second lyric is because at the time, MC left and that was the last Logan knew of them with nothing to stand for what they used to have until they eventually came back to help save the crew.

Compass, The Neighbourhood [j]

If I don't have you with me, I'm alone / You know I never know which way to go / I think I need you with me for all-time / When I need new direction for my mind

I've got something to confess / I keep you in my pocket to use / You're my only compass / I might get lost without you / (Could you tell me where to go?)

You're always there to help me when I'm down / I'm lucky you've been keeping me around / You're the star I look for every night / When it's dark, you'll stick right by my side

Like a magnet / Hard to imagine ever changing / Can't help that I'm attracted to you, I am / Could you keep on guiding me? Please

This is a quintessential Logan song – reading these lyrics, it’s like Logan spoke them himself to MC, and that’s why I included so much of the song. All of these remind me of him and his hopeless romanticism, but specifically the line about her being the star he looks for every night? Absolutely perfect. This entire song is like a love letter from Logan to MC.

Don’t Leave Me, Blackstreet [p]

I’m searching for the words to make you realize / That I really, really want you to stay

Don’t leave, don’t leave me girl

This song was giving me Logan vibes from the diamond scene where he’s like “I can’t believe I love someone” and MC is like “you don’t get to say that to me” or some shit like that because he’s trying soo so hard to explain himself to her and to make her not hate him.

Imma Dog, Ugly God ft. PnB Rock [j]

You say you love me, shawty, tell me why / 'Cause I'm a dog and I'ma probably be this way until I die / You say you always gon' be by my side / You say you trust me with your heart and I swear, I just wonder why

Okay, hear me out, I forreal have reasons for this to be tied to Logan. The only verse in this song that’s a non chorus one is related to cheating, but I’m choosing to ignore that for the sake of the chorus. I heard the chorus for the first time and it made me think of one specific moment and point in time in Ride or Die. These lyrics remind me of Logan’s attitude when he was being mean and pretending to be annoyed by MC to get her off of him – despite the facade he’s still in awe of the way she trusts him and cares about him even when he’s treating her like garbage.

Life’s a Mess, Juice WRLD ft. Halsey [p]

Uh, sometimes life’s a mess

Lookin’ for somethin’ real, then I found it

I’m too flawed to hold you down, but / Don’t wanna be here alone

Logan knows all too well how much of a mess life really is (first lyric), and the second lyric is basically what I think he feels about MC. He told MC in the beginning that he doesn’t really stay with crews or trust anyone but himself, but MC was that exception before the rest of the crew became that exception too. And then the third lyric is because Logan looks at himself as someone who probably doesn’t deserve MC, Vaughn even said he was morally obligated to tell MC that she’s too good for his cousin (yes it was a joke (was it) but it fits), but he still wants her anyway (“Look at you...then look at me. You’re going to be valedictorian. I never even went to high school...I don’t have anything, and I wasn’t anybody, and I knew that. I always knew that….Some part of me really wants you to mess things up for me.” - Logan, Ch. 3).

Unfair, 6lack [p]

Hope my mistakes don’t make me less of a man / ‘cause lately it feel like them shits really can / I’m prayin’ I don’t wake up all alone

But know I’m stuck between / What I love and who I love and / I know it’s unfair

The first lyric I feel like is pretty self-explanatory as Logan expresses remorse for his actions (him acting weird and tryna tell MC about his dishonesty in the club, him making the effort to apologize or explain in the diamond scene after the reveal) and it especially hits if your MC is romancing Logan because he doesn’t want to lose them. As for the second lyric, I was thinking about how he was probably stuck between doing what’s best for the crew and doing right by MC

While We’re Young, Jhene Aiko [j]

Baby while we're young / I think we should do something crazy / Like say, "Fuck everyone" / And just run away from the daily routine

I'm tellin' everybody you're mine and I like it / And I really hope you don't mind, I can't fight it

'Cause it's been another perfect day with ya / Wanna lay with ya / Spend the night with ya / Then spend my life with ya, alright

I'll go everywhere you go / You know I'll go, I'll go / Everywhere you go

I'm giving you my heart, please don't break it / Take it and lock it up and put me in your pocket, love

This reminds me of Logan and MC’s brand of romance that’s sweet and clumsy and a little bit reckless when it really gets going. They’re both cautious but they fantasize about throwing caution to the wind even more than they already have.

Angel With A Shotgun, The Cab [p]

I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back / I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Sometimes to win, you have to sin

And I want to live, not just survive

Lemme explain because I feel like people may think this song is really really out there for Colt but I was listening to this song one day and thought of him, esp the last two lines I chose: I think of how Colt came up with the kidnapping plan and how it was so crazy because it was like wow he really was ready for murder if it came down to it, but Colt was basically like we need to do something big to outsmart them or else we’ll just be doing shit for them forever (‘sometimes to win, you have to sin’).

Born 2 Be Great, Lil Tjay [p]

I was born to be great / And I won’t let nobody tell me I ain’t / And I can’t stop, won’t stop

Growin’ up, I’m gettin’ old, start settin’ goals / Tryna make more money off my business and shows / And everybody gon’ hate, I’m great, I know / Everybody can hate, I’m great, I know

These lyrics just scream COLT to me all the way. He knows and believes he’s destined for greatness no matter what path he chooses because no matter what he does, he’s gonna succeed in the end. “I can’t stop, won’t stop” reminds me of how Kaneko wanted Colt to choose for himself what he wanted to do, and even though Kaneko tried to shield Colt away from the family business, that’s where Colt wanted to be. The second lyric is essentially Colt just knowing he’s gonna make money and that he won’t be liked (hated by other crews, police, etc.), but that won’t matter because he’s great nevertheless.

Chandelier, B.o.B ft. Lauriana Mae [p]

They say life’s about choices / In the face of defeat I declined / Put your soul into everything, never back down / That’s how you leave a legacy behind

Let my blood keep pumping, my heart keep beating / Shining like a chandelier

Making something out of absolutely nothing / That’s the definition of a survivor

Colt definitely felt ‘put your soul into everything, never back down / that’s how you leave a legacy behind’ because of how much he focuses on carrying on what his family has built, and taking all the risks necessary to keep that legacy alive and make a name for himself. I put ‘shining like a chandelier’ because that’s how bright Colt shines, as I believe he’s destined for greatness and wouldn’t allow himself to achieve anything but.

Down Bad, Real Recognize Rio [j]

I've been out of my head for a couple minutes, for a couple miles / Made the hair stand up on my neck / On a knife edge, comin' at me for my crimes / Got a mind that can leave you locked inside

'Cause you got me down bad, down bad, your deep desire / Carve my name on your soul, then I walk through the fire / Your voice so clear, like you say my name / You got mе runnin' for my life like this shit was a game / Got mе down bad, down bad to feel your touch

This song reminds me of Colt specifically during the gambling scene when he got shot and the last car chase scene, because MC is put in serious danger but it does nothing to shake her love for Colt. She’s scared for her life and her future but she’s still willing to put everything on the line for him and MPC.

Forever Ever, Trippie Redd ft. Young Thug [p]

You gon’ really have to hold me fuckin’ down, babe / ‘Cause I ain’t with the fuckery, that playing ‘round, babe

We Bonnie and Clyde but except the shots

He don’t love you like he should, I can love you better

First and second lyric are because they’re a team, and Colt sees MC as his right hand. In the life he lives, the people on his team gotta be down fr because there’s always a lot at stake. The last lyric is more conditional, as I feel like this could be him if MC was also romancing Logan because in the reveal, Colt’s like you deserved to know and in the car in the chapter afterwards that’s when he’s like bro we could run this whole shit etc. etc.

Impala, O2worldwide [j]

I been watching you from a distance / Sitting back and acknowledging your existence / I made a couple songs but you'll probably never listen / Shooting my shot but i'm always fucking missing / Setting my ego aside / Me and you can go together just like Bonnie and Clyde / I've been tripping over you just like my shoes is untied / And I tried to hit you up its like my confidence died but

I see you everyday but don't past corners of eyes / I'm just gonna act like I didn't see you close to that guy / Not gonna lie you got me head over ears / I'm tryna find love because I don't know just how it feels

Anyone listening to this and reading the lyrics is going to hate me because… is this the perfect “Colt pining for MC because she’s getting close to Logan” Love Triangle song, or what? I listen to this song so casually most of the time that I forget how sad the lyrics actually are. The first couple verses (not the third verse) fit the narrative so well. A lot of my favorite “Colt” songs aren’t ones where they’re outwardly admitting any kind of affection for MC – they’re the ones where it reads as Colt struggling with their feelings for MC and how to express them.

PTSD, G Herbo ft. Juice WRLD, Lil Uzi Vert, and Chance the Rapper [p]

I don’t belong, I see my past everywhere

I got a war zone on inside of my head

A million dollars ahead, I’m still angry and seeing red

I’m too paranoid, I make sure all my opps, they bled

This song always guts me because G Herbo is talking about all the people he’s lost, and for Colt, I imagined this was probably him after losing his father. Reminded of his past when he saw the remains of the shop, reminded of his past every time after that probably when he was rebuilding the shop. As for the million dollars, it’s like he could pull off as many heists as he could but he would never be satisfied until Brotherhood paid, hence the last lyric because honestly I don’t think it’s over until Shaw is dead (ik there’s a line in ROD where he’s like if we were even, he’d be dead, I just know it).

Sun God, Trippie Redd [j]

Went out my way just to love you / Right at the top, no above you / Right off the top, know I trust you / Ready or not, here I come, boo / And baby, you're hot, like the sun, too / Not too hot for me, no I'm sun-proof / Follow your lead, I'ma come through / Just you and me, baby, one-two

I think this is Colt way farther down the line if MC had the chance to really fall in love with him. He’s the type to value trust and loyalty in a bond more than anything else because he doesn’t do either of those easily at all. And I think that the line about being sun-proof is a cute callback to a lot of the fandom comparisons of Colt and Icarus – the title too and the lyrics just scream Colt to me.

Where Does The Love Go?, Maria Isabel [j]

Nightly negotiations with the moon, whoever's listening / All the miles between us got me messed up, got me trippin'

They say lovin' is easy / But not when one of us is leaving

Back on a plane / Two different coasts / When we're alone / Where does the love go? / What if you go / Forget the way home? / Running in circles but never together / So where does the love go?

The more I listen to this song the more I think this song is about Colt and MC. Colt’s not a clingy type in the slightest, but there’s no doubt in my mind that deeper into the relationship, both Colt and MC would have some doubts – the reason I say this is because I’m viewing the lyrics through the lens of Colt and MC doing long distance while MC is in college on the East Coast. This whole song is long distance relationship anxiety summed up perfectly and it’s so Colt.

Yellow Lights, 24kGoldn [p]

Don’t want no yellow light / don’t want no mixed message

For the crown, ‘cause we could achieve it

Love you now, but don’t you deceive me

Second lyric resonated with me esp because of that line in the book where he’s like “But the two of us? We put our brains together, you and me could run this whole town” so he knows he could achieve an empire with MC by his side. Last lyric is because Colt definitely doesn’t trust those around him and for those that he does trust, that trust doesn’t come easy. So MC, who managed to get past that, is loved, but would automatically lose a lot if she deceived him (now imagine….snitch MC? This line would hit a lot more because she ends up deceiving him so like he had a right to be wary of her holding his heart (like if we’re looking at the pov of him saying this lyric)).

Can’t Love, Trippie Redd [p]

She say she love me, I think she love me not / She say she love me, I know she love me not

How could you do this to me? / Yeah, yeah, I thought you, I thought you loved

Another Mona and her ex song teehee but I’m imagining this from Mona’s pov while she’s in jail like wow that girl never loved me like she said she loved me (first lyric) and how could she betray me like this (second lyric).

Favorite Mistake, Giveon [p]

Is my secret safe? / Safe with just you and me / We can’t leave a trace / This is my favorite mistake

Look in my eyes / Do you mind the lies? Do you feel alive?

Even when you’re gone / The feeling just grow stronger / Should leave it alone / But you’re getting closer

So I finally did a Mona route and GOD yes this song is about cheating (Mona and Hieron can’t relate) but we gon ignore that and just focus on these lyrics specifically because wow they really hit me like Mona for one was in denial of her feelings for MC from the jump and at some point she’s like god this is so ridiculous I can’t believe I’m feeling this way again so ofc she doesn’t want people to know she’s in love (like that time Toby is like man she is NOT happy about liking you! in the club scene) hence the beginning of the first lyric but at the same time….. she’s in love… so “this is my favorite mistake.” As for the second and third, the lies are that “I don’t like you” ra ra ra she’s only fooling herself and then it’s like yeah she knows her feelings are dumb but she can’t help but fall for MC anyway <3

Gonna Love Me, Teyana Taylor [p]

Sometimes we say things that we really don’t mean / We do things in between the lines

Please wait up for me ‘til whenever I get home / I know that you’re all alone / Thinking ‘bout what you’re gon’ do / I hope that you see it through, ooh, ooh

Why is it so hard to keep in touch

For the first lyric, I was thinking of the time MC says “Being with you makes a difference to me. It feels safer” and Mona replies that “It’s just an illusion. A blanket. And I’ve told you before not to count on me.” Yeah she said that wit her chest but ik she knows it’s more than that for the both of them. The second and third lyric both have to do with her being in jail by the end of the book (making it literally hard to keep in touch), and even though she tells MC not to wait up, a part of me thinks the vulnerable part of Mona would’ve hoped at least a smidge that MC would, and the last bit ‘thinking ‘bout what you’re gon’ do / I hope that you see it through’ reminds me of the advice in the diamond scene of driving Mona to the hospital that she gave MC which was that to move on, you just gotta keep your foot on the gas and look forward and that eventually, she’ll be somewhere better than she’s ever been.

Love or Lust, 24kGoldn [p]

It’s love or it’s lust, we just need to be clear / ‘Cause if you’re in love, then I shouldn’t be here

Would you walk eight thousand miles just to make me smile on a rainy Wednesday? / If so, then you gots to go, it ain’t mutual and I’m not pretending

Basically in the beginning stages of MC falling for Mona, Mona’s like oh hell nah (“I shouldn’t be here”) and she recognizes that MC likes her a lotttt (MC would definitely walk eight thousand miles to make her smile on a rainy Wednesday) and so she’s like fuck

PLW, Leon Thomas [j]

Left my fear right at the door (ooh) / She's an animal hunting in the wild, yeah (in the wild) / Doesn't move around or groove / But she come from the depth / That's why she's down to earth / An instrument of war

Baby ain't no beginner / I got love for my little winner / Flashing or finessing / That's why I mess with her, yeah

And you don't have to worry, yeah / 'Cause I know what's she worth / No, you don't have to save me / From my pretty little weapon

Ooh my baby smart, and she sharp, and she sharp, yeah / Pretty little weapon

I’ll never ever get over how this song fell into my lap and is absolutely perfect for Mona. This is for an MC who acknowledges that Mona’s a badass and that she loves her because of her strong personality and unwavering confidence because she knows she’s good at her job. The first verse is the best approach an MC could take – leaving her fear at the door because she knows someone like Mona could sniff it out. The line “No, you don’t have to save me / From my pretty little weapon” kills me, because it’s accurate – on Mona’s route, despite any betrayal, the MC is still in love with her and knows that Mona would never actually hurt her.

Sleeping With the Enemy, BbyMutha & Kindora [j]

Creeping around corners / I don't feel like myself / Studying your movements / It's a carousel / And I can't confirm that you / Mean what you say / And I'm pretty sure / That it's / Better that way

Why can't I trust in you / Am I slipping up / Over you / If it really turned to be the way / That I think / How bad could it be?

And I know that we could go for / Round and round like 123 / And I gotta question myself / Is it coming? / Possibly / And I gotta wonder / Am I sleeping with the enemy?

I'm watching my back / Like I got nothing left / I give you all I got / Wish I knew what was next

The first time I heard this song it was a toss up between whether or not it was a Colt and Mona song (or both) but I settled on Mona pretty quickly after a re-listen. Not only is the internal conflict in the lyrics a perfect description of Mona’s own battle, but it could be easily viewed from MC’s perspective as well. The idea of knowing it’s “wrong”, and mistrusting them but pursuing it anyways is quintessential early Mona route.

The World is a Marble Heart, AJR [p]

We could have been, we should have been / What your heart couldn’t handle

Run away, girl, ‘cause I let you / Now you found some other man, you see / I’m better off without you, ‘cause the man ain’t me!

I’m going right now / To the beginning / What you denied from the start / And now you can’t go breaking my heart

The world is a marble heart / It’s bullshit and we know it

I think the first lyric is definitely MC to Mona because Mona was afraid to allow herself to be in love, and then evidently their relationship couldn’t blossom because Mona ends up arrested (“we could have been, we should have been”). This song called out to me because Mona always comments on how MC’s heart got them into the Brotherhood mess, how MC always think the crew is something they’re not, so MC’s heart is the marble heart and the last lyric (“it’s bullshit and we know it”) is essentially Mona being like girl you know we are not what you think we are. The second lyric is because in a scene after the reveal, Mona drives MC to Riya’s house and MC goes I wish we could run off together and Mona is like just say the word and MC is like I can’t :/// and then Mona is like the only one stopping you is you, and then “I’m better off without you” is Mona being don’t call don’t write don’t text

Would You, Pink Sweat$ [p]

Would you die for me? I would die for you / Would you shoot for me? I would kill for you / Would you run up the bag if I needed you to? / Girl, all the things that I’d do for you / Would you do for me too?

I wanna know when it pops off that you gon’ be right next to me

This was giving Mona and her ex from that scene where MC got a glimpse into Mona’s past. Essentially, Mona’s ex and her were thick as thieves, and when they got arrested, Mona didn’t say anything and her ex did, so Mona was always ten toes down but her ex never had her (Mona) like she (Mona) thought she (her ex) had her (Mona)

Both of Us, YFN Lucci [j]

Stay with me when there's no one else to call / If you got me then I'm in it for the both of us

Look, ayy, do you love me like you say you love me? / Ay, do you vow to keep it cute when everythin' get ugly? / Ay, if I ever leave, girl would you come lookin' for me?

I think that this song and these lyrics fit into the title of the book and how “ride or die” each of the love interests are for MC and vice versa. I think the softer parts of this song are MC for sure, and Logan at times, and the second bullet point is Colt and Mona. For them, it’s more of a promise of loyalty rather than love like the earlier lyric is (which is why I think that’s a bit more hopeless romantic like Logan).

C U Girl, Steve Lacy [j]

I haven't seen you in a while, you know I miss you babe / When you hear this song, feel flattered, it's about your face / And how I miss it and I wish that I could see it more / But you're in college now and I'm about to go on tour

I love this song because it makes me think of the possibility of MC and the LI having a “song” – one where any time they hear it they think of each other. And that when they hear it it makes them happy but at the same time they’re forced do think about the distance between them and how much they miss each other.

Collide, Tiana Major9 and Earthgang [j]

Everybody's got opinions on our thing / Say we're flying down a path with no ending / And if I die before I wake / Ooh, don't let me wake up from this dream / When we collide / When we collide, it's a beautiful disaster / When I crash into you, you, you

And I don't care about the future or the past / Riding slow, 'cause you know the world's moving too fast

Without you, I'm just a fraction / Closing in on my demise / And I love you religiously / With everything inside of me / As long as I'm alive

So I think it fits for all three because the relationship is taboo since they’re criminals and she’s a valedictorian getting ready for college. Their relationship is sloppy and dangerous and comes to an inevitable end, and they both know that, so this song for sure encapsulates how little both the LI and MC care about that. They don’t that it’s a trainwreck, because colliding is all that matters :)

Heaven, Clairo [j]

Alone, for the last time / You're just a loner / Give it a try / And you're hard on yourself / And your laugh, it just melts in my hands / Lonesome in the streets

I'll get by with you on my mind / I'll get by with you on my side

I love the idea of this song being viewed as MC’s perspective of her LI, because I’m sure the other LI’s haven’t been appreciated in the way that she appreciates them. For example, the line about the laugh melting in her hands makes me think about how they’d react to her saying that to them. None of the LI’s probably have never been told their laugh is cute, and I’m sure they’d be confused about it at first, so this whole song gives me a cute late night summer drive vibe. Like the MC is in the passenger seat of Mona or Logan’s car or draped around Colt and she’s just appreciating the things she loves about them.

Heaven Ain’t Hard 2 Find, Tupac [j]

Simply because you nervous, let me start off with my conversation / Hoping my information, elevates the hesitation / I can see it clearly now / Catch you smiling through your frown / I'm askin' Baby Boo are you down?

Heaven ain't hard to find / In fact you can have it just have faith / Just like a little kid, still believing in magic / It takes a lot of sacrifice / With all the lonely nights on tour / I need somebody I can trust in my life

Oh god help me identify me truest thoughts / Your hidden motives full of passion who would of thought / Come holla at me baby, love me for my thug nature / Far from a player hater, label me a money maker / Straight heart breaker

I originally added this song because it’s canon that Colt loves old West Coast Rap, so that makes me think he’s a huge Tupac fan. I can see him listening to this in his car driving down a California highway at like 2 a.m. On the other hand, though, the beginning of the song reminds me of the first meeting with Logan at the party, or the second meeting when they go to the car show – young love jitters and all that.

Keep Me Up, Charlotte Lawrence [j]

My heart starts beating and my hands start sweating / My chest starts sinking and sometimes will even start shaking / It's physical and emotional

And I don't want you all inside my head / And I can feel you running through my veins

When I say, and I say, and I say / That I want you in my life / But you stay, and you stay, and you stay / And you never leave my side / And you take, and you take, and you take / And you say you feel so nice, boy / And you keep me up all night

I think this fits with all the LI’s and MC and how they cope after the LI’s had to leave. Read it from both perspectives and it honestly fits so well for both of them – like the first couple months of restlessness staring at their ceiling while reflecting on how much they miss each other.

Kitchen, Kid Cudi [j]

Hmm, you wanna find somebody you trust and lay low / But it seems they all on the same mission / You wanna find somebody you trust and lay low / But can't stand the heat of my love, then stay out the kitchen

Oh baby here we are, I made a wish on shootin' stars / I ain't even mad at it, we made it this far

The attitude of this song reminds me of both Mona and Colt’s feelings about relationships – they both know they’re intense people and that they don’t trust or love easily, and that whoever’s interested in them needs to know that. They’re not going to apologize for it, but they appreciate anyone who sticks around and loves them despite that.

Meet Me Halfway, The Black Eyed Peas [j]

Can you meet me halfway, right at the borderline / Is where I'm gonna wait, for you / I'll be looking out, night n' day / Took my heart to the limit, and this is where I stay / I can't go any further than this / I want you so bad it's my only wish

I think of all three LI’s when I listen to this, because it fits into the idea of them struggling to maintain both of their lifestyles and have them mesh together. And it plays into the distance when MPC has to scatter.

Moonlight, Trippie Redd [j]

I can still be your man / I was tryna see your plans / 'Cause I was tryna have this dance tonight / Your body, girl, I'm a real big fan / And I cannot lose this chance / So, baby girl, grab my hand / This moment I'm waiting for, I fantasize / I just wanna be with you, I just wanna be with you tonight / Under the moonlight

This reminded me of the prom scene and how despite the chaos, all three love interests took the time to appreciate MC and soak up their last “date”.

out for the night, 21 Savage [j]

Five foot five (Five), she my ride or die (Die) / Never tell a lie (Lie), we like Bonnie and Clyde (Clyde) / Lookin' at her thigh (Thigh), like, "Do it come with rice?" (Rice) / She don't like FaceTime, she would rather Skype / But I'm out for the night (Straight up) / Out for the night (Straight up)

When I heard this song I could definitely see Colt listening to it, but I think the flirtiness of the song fits for all three love interests! Also, I mean… “she my ride or die” and “we like Bonnie and Clyde”? Self explanatory.

Part of Me, Teo [j]

I believe there's no one in your place / So much lovely / You can cure my mistakes / You reside in me no room for escape

You're my darling / You're my love / You're rocking all of your diamonds / All dressed up / And girl I lost my mind, no, I messed up / So now I'm knocking at your doors with my chest up

You're part of me / Come again and see / Diamonds make you sparkle

This reminds me of the prom scene from the LI’s perspective. And even more so than that, it reminds me of post prom/car chase where they have to say goodbye to each other the last time. It’s like a bittersweet tribute to MC about how much they mean to them and how much they’ll think about them when they’re apart.

Special, 21 Savage [j]

We got something special / I was finna text you / But I don't wanna pest you / Even if we ain't together (no matter we're forever) / I'm still coming to your rescue

Ride with me (ride with me) / Tell the truth and don't you lie to me (lie to me) / You know I need you on my side with me (side with me) / Tell the truth and don't you lie to me (lie to me) / Baby, roll with me (roll with me)

I'mma hold you down forever / You my round forever / They just want to use you, but I'm tryna help you

I think of Colt mostly with this song, but it definitely fits with all of the li’s in my opinion! Logan, Colt, and Mona would all approach their relationship with MC this way – constantly affirming that they’re there for MC no matter what, even if things go South with them, they’re always one call away. And especially the last line “they just wanna use you, but I’m tryna help you” that’s for sure an overprotective LI about the Jason Shaw situation and generally people taking advantage of MC’s kindness.

Drunk on Love, Rihanna [p]

Take me away / I wear my heart on my sleeve / Always let love take the lead / I may be a little naive, yeah

I feel like I’ve heard MC being described as naive, and even in the book Mona is like man it’s your damn heart that got us into this mess because you thought we were more than who we are, so yeah this song reminded me of MC.

Final Goodbye, Rihanna [p]

Thought that you would stay forever with me / But the time has come to leave

Promise you our love will carry on

Final goodbye, MC saying goodbye to their LI, you catch my drift.

The Good, the Bad, and the Dirty, Panic! at the Disco [p]

If you wanna start a fight / You better throw the first punch / Make it a good one

I feel like this lyric specifically is saying that if you’re gonna stand for something, you better give it your all, and it reminded me of how MC came up with the plan to defeat the Brotherhood in the last few chapters of ROD, and to get out of it, they really had to go all out (AKA MC telling the police everything, meaning the gang had to go on the run). Also, MC just nose-dived into this life and I feel like this lyric is like ‘well sis if you gon be a criminal you might as well do your best’ (and she did when she bodied her first heist I know that’s right, my driver forever <3).

Harder We Fall, Jessie J [p]

So, whatever path we choose to take / There will be highs and there will be lows, the same / Oh, we’ll never run from our mistakes / The harder we fall the harder we try again

I just feel like this is a good song for MC to listen to in the car on her way to Langston yk crying but the windows are down and the wind is wiping your tears so you just keep it pushing because you’ll live and you’re stronger than your lows.

House of Memories, Panic! at the Disco [p]

If you’re a lover, you should know / The lonely moments just get lonelier / The longer you’re in love than if you are alone / Memories turn into daydreams, become a taboo

I think of you from time to time more than I thought I would

I just feel like this is a perfect song for MC going through the motions of leaving their lover behind and thinking about the times they shared because her life with the crew will always be so drastically different than the life she was went to have (going to Langston, being the ‘goody two shoes’, etc.).

Let It Out, Trippie Redd ft. Myiah Lynnae [p]

I need to know, before I tell you, can I trust you?

Idk man this song really just spoke to me.

Saw You in a Dream, The Japanese House [j]

I saw you in a dream / You had stayed the same / You were beckoning me / Said that I had changed / Tried to keep my eyes closed / I want you so bad / Then I awoke and it was so sad

Haven't talked to you in months / And I thought that I might cry / But I'm not that kind of girl

All good things come to an end / But I thought that this might last / But you came and left so fast

I wonder if you'll come visit me again / You're taking your time to reappear / I'm starting to believe that when I call your name / You just don't hear me anymore / And I know that I shouldn't even try / It's a waste of time

I don’t think I need to go super in depth as to why this reminded me of MC, but I do see this as MC’s defeated approach to it in the months/years after meeting the MPC.

Silent Nite, Tink [p]

I put your joy and your feelings ‘fore mine / These days I’m angry, angry inside / No words to say (oh) / One thing to do / Move on and fall back from you / It’s gonna be a silent night / No one here to hold me tight / It’s gonna be a silent night / No one here to hold me, oh, oh I’m lonely / Lost for words (lost for words)

It’s a short song so I just put the whole lyrics in here LMFAO but I feel like this could be MC during her first few nights at Langston. For Hieron at least, I know she went through a range of emotions processing this new chapter without the people she holds dear, angry at the way this is how things had to play out, but all that’s left for her to do is get over it, move on, and get used to not having that support anymore (i.e. like if MC is used to cuddling with [insert LI], they deadass gotta sleep alone now f in the chat).

Smile, Juice WRLD ft. The Weeknd [p]

I’d do anything in my power to see you just smile / I want you to prosper and come proper / Even if that means I ain’t by your side

I spent every day right beside you (‘side you), ‘side you (‘side you) / A hundred pics of me on your phone / Now you’re someone that I used to know

OKAY so I’m absolutely obsessed with this song and the first lyric was definitely giving me Logan x MC because I feel like this is something he could’ve said during his goodbye, like saying something that vulnerable and heartwrenchingly sweet is def on-brand for him, but the second lyric I feel like fits all the LIs. Like because they were part of the crew, they spent so much time with MC, and now that they’re gone, MC has all those pictures and memories that they want to hold on to them so badly even though they can never be together again (‘now you’re someone that I used to know’)

Stuck With Me, The Neighbourhood [j]

Now I'm feeling guilty for it / Didn't wanna leave / Realized I'm less important / Than I thought I'd be, yeah / I'm not tellin' you for any certain reasons but / I just want your empathy

Our lives keep on gettin' shorter / Losin' opportunity / There might be some other ways of looking at it but / That's just what I see / I been gettin' over myself / Thinkin' about what you need / Then I realised that neither of us matter

You always end up stickin' to me / Somehow, somehow / You are stuck with me / So I guess I'll be sticking with / You are stuck with me / So I guess I'll be sticking with

So I think this song covers a lot of topics for MC. I think the vibe of the lyrics suit MC when she’s dealing with her relationship with her father, being pressured by Jason Shaw, and grappling with whether or not she’s making the right decision despite it all – homegirl was falling in love throughout all of it, too. Reading the lyrics with that lens made me think of each of the lines as a different conversation. The first part sounds like a tidbit of a conversation she could’ve had with her dad or about her dad. The next one is like a realization that despite how careful she is with her choices, nothing matters anyways, if the MC takes a nihilistic approach to it. And the last lyric is her conclusion with the LI that despite everything, she’s happy that she’s with her LI and she’s grateful for their loyalty.

worst behavior, Ariana Grande [j]

I been on my worst behavior / But, baby, I don't need no savior / I'm way outta line / But I kind of like the way I / Feel when I just don't give a fuck

This ain't no game, won't play with you / This time I know I'll stay with you / Just promise you won't say nothin' / Don't you be actin' like that, don't you be actin' like that, babe

Said baby it's just in my nature / To be a little troublemaker

Know you really like the way I / Taste when we kiss, you reminisce / But this ain't the last time / Just stay by my side

This song reminds me of rebellious MC before the gravity of the situation really hits her – the short span of time where she’s not worrying about being Valedictorian or college or her dad’s approval. She’s just living and falling in love for the first time. This could probably work for all LI’s but the specific “troublemaker” line makes me think of an MC who is trying to reassure Logan that she can make her own decisions.

1Day, PnB Rock ft. Ugly God [j]

Momma told me that I wouldn't be shit / Told her one day / I'ma be rich (huh)

One day, I'ma buy a big ass crib / One day, I'ma buy a big ass mansion / One day, all my fucking diamonds gon' be dancing / One day, I'ma fuck a bitch in the Hamptons / One day, I'ma eat the sushi with the salmon

Dropped out of college, everybody said I'm tripping / Told them be patient, but they ass wouldn't listen / Made it big time, now they fucking with the vision / Now I'm really rich, and my diamonds really glistening

The lyrics kind of remind me of the lifestyle that they live – whether or not they fell for the MC in the process, they all kind of have the motive of money and being successful in their own way. Even though the li’s and MC have their own shortcomings and wants and needs outside of MPC, I like to think of this song as an ego booster and probably representative of their attitudes when they joined MPC at the beginning. Reminds me of Logan especially since he joined the life so early and probably romanticized it for the longest time before it really went to shit. And to add to that, the last lyric is Colt all the way.

92 Explorer, Post Malone [p]

Ooh, baby, I see these muhfuckas’ glancin’ / When my whip stop, then my wheels keep spinnin’

Made a lot of M’s, made a lot of moves

This song is literally all about Post Malone’s precious car so I was like LMFAO why not because everyone in ROD loves their cars and then the last lyric is because they be making a lot of money with their transactions/steals.

Best Friend, Saweetie ft. Doja Cat [p]

Beep beep, is that my bessie in a Tessie?

Listen... I feel like we were robbed of the peak best friend dynamic that could’ve existed between Riya and MC so this whole song is for them (also c’mon MC could’ve snatched a Tesla if she reeaaally wanted too so yup that’s Riya’s bessie in a Tessie).

Lost It, Rich The Kid ft. Quavo and Offset [p]

The Bentley don’t cost shit / I walk out the bank rich

Okay, drank sippin’, lane switchin’ / I done brought my gang with me

Ooh, I might snatch the coupe

First one because they really could get any car they wanted, second lyric because gang always together yk, and last one because they really be stealing cars out here LMFAO.

Royal Rumble, Lil Tecca [p]

My life is a movie, you not ready for that clip

It’s a Royal Rumble

ROD really is a wild ride (‘my life is a movie’) and the ‘it’s a Royal Rumble’ just reminded me of the fact that it’s basically a showdown between two crews where one wins in the end but at what cost.

Runnin’, 21 Savage and Metro Boomin [p]

Runnin’, runnin’, runnin’, runnin’

We run the motherfuckin’ city

Fuck your crew, [redacted], we’ll kill your crew

First lyric is because literally everyone has to scatter by the end of the book, and the second lyric just gave me their vibes, whether or not they truly ran the city. The last lyric makes me laugh because Colt really was about to kill the other crew, the ‘we’ is a lilll bit loose in that sense though LMFAO because I know damn well Toby was not ready to go down like that.

Stuntin’ Like My Daddy, Birdman ft. Lil Wayne [j]

What we doing? Getting money / What they doing? Hating on us, but they never cross / Cash money still a company, and, bitch, I'm the boss / And I be stuntin' like my daddy, stuntin' like my daddy

Colt and Teppei don’t get along, but I like to think that Colt not only bumps this song in his car, but secretly imagines that him and Teppei run L.A. – either together or with Colt taking the reins.

Takin’ Shots, Post Malone [p]

Drinkin’ all night, but we ain’t done yet / Waitin’ on the plug, but he ain’t come yet

Already losin’ control, this is the life that we chose

The first lyric and this song overall just give me club vibes, like the underground one they went to where MC wears that neon fit. The part in the second line that always gets me is ‘this is the life that we chose’ because being a part of this crew was a choice for most, and they knew what comes with this lifestyle.

Trouble on Central, Buddy [j]

So the entire song is pretty much the idea “I wish life were better and I’m daydreaming about how good things could be for me”. And to be honest, I think that the vibes of that fit Logan when he was young and broke, but at the same time, I could see Colt bumping this song in a convertible.

VEGAS, ABRA [j]

The whole song reminds me of the gambling scene and the high stakes of it. It kind of reads like the MC trying to fit in with dangerous criminals while she’s there despite the MPC thinking she’s not ready for it

#playchoices #choices rod #rodaw #ride or die: a bad boy romance #choices ride or die #playlist

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mightysteelix · 3 years ago

Text

Pent Up Desires (Fic)

Ever since the summer event last year, I've been toying with the idea of a larger Robin. And now that its rerun is about to come, I've decided that it is time to finally write it out - and meanwhile hit as many of my kink buttons as possible. This is the result - one of my most indulgent works (if not the most indulgent work to beat them all).

Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Fandoms: Fate/Grand Order Relationship: Robin Hood | Archer/Billy the Kid | Archer Characters: Robin Hood | Archer and Billy the Kid | Archer Summary: Do you remember when B.B. said she would turn Robin into a pig during ServaFes? What if she followed on the threat, albeit with quite the twist?

Robin is cursed and can't control himself around food. Billy has promised to help, but he can't control himself around Robin.

Weight-gain kink fic. Don’t like, don’t read.

WARNING FOR KINK CONTENTS UNDER THE CUT

Additional Tags: Weight Gain; Belly Kink; Size Kink; Size Difference; Masturbation; Dry Humping; Stuffing; musclechub; Robin gets huge; And Billy tries not to jerk off whenever he sees him; Self-Indulgent

LAST WARNING FOR KINK

Summer was in full swing, and Babbage blasted enough steam to make Chaldea hotter than a waterless hole in the heart of the prairie. So, it did not come as a shock that Robin was rockin’ only trunks and an open shirt, which showed some well-sculpted arms. The guy was hell-fired handsome with the finest body ever, and if he wanted to kick back, Billy wouldn’t protest. Nay, what hit like a bullet to the brain was the ton of food in front of him—meats, loaves of bread, and a raft of drinks.

“How’s it goin’, partner?” Billy plopped down in a chair next to Robin. “Famished after Servant Fes sucked the life outta ya?”

“It’s…” Robin, with a larger scowl on his face than usual, panted. “It’s that… purple-haired witch’s fault.” He grabbed a drumstick and tore off some meat like a starved wolf. “She threatened to turn me in a pig…” His face was red with effort. “We had to win her Holy Grail…” He bit another chunk. “Don’t worry,”—Billy stifled a giggle when Robin mocked the Master’s voice—“she won’t follow on it.’ It’s easy to speak when this isn’t happening to them!” After chewin’ the last of the drumstick thoroughly, he swallowed. The slow gulp traveled down his throat and into his stomach. Robin punched his chest and exhaled in relief.

Billy’s eyes followed it and glued themselves to Robin’s gut. It was taut, bloated, as large as a basketball—and just as hard if he touched it. The pressure was makin’ the skin around the belly button burn angrily. The trunks rested under the overgorged curve, a trial of ginger peekin’ below the band. “True, partner, you’re becomin’ a nice piggy,” Billy quipped. “So, the purple lass’s itchin’ for a vendetta, and she chose ya?”

After he popped a soda open and drank half the bottle—his gurglin’ gut sloshin’ and expandin’ even more—Robin nodded. “She cursed the clothes. And I must’ve stepped on her toes something fierce when I complained to Master. Now I can’t even take the swimsuit off.” He grit his teeth, his handsome face (Was that the start of a double chin? Nay, don’t stare!) grimacin’ as he tried to keep the fizz down. His strained jaws opened as if pried apart, and with shakin’ hands, he poured in the rest of the drink. His neck bobbed; his stomach filled and grew in every direction. “Whenever I see—urp!”

Robin closed his mouth. His cheeks bulged with a held-back belch. Yet the stress forced his lips to open: “UUUURRPPP!” He bowed his limp head away. “Excuse me,” he muttered. “But when there’s any food—anything—I must eat it. It doesn’t matter if I’ll explode; my hands will push it down to my stomach.” He slapped the swollen ball, it barely swayin’. Something bubbled in its depths rose in his throat, and he let out another lengthy burp.

Bitin’ his lips, Billy leaned closer. “Have ya tried stayin’ outta here? Far from the eyes, far from the heart and all that?” he advised Robin, his eyes lookin’ anywhere but that overstuffed middle.

“I’m trying. But she’s pulling that Archer’s strings, too.” Robin grunted and glanced at the kitchen while devourin’ a buttered slice of bread. “If I leave my room, he’s on my tail with a cupcake or some other treat. Before I know it, I am dragged here and”—he pointed to the ungodly number of plates—“you see the rest.”

Billy nodded slowly, his whole willpower holdin’ him from lickin’ his lips. A fire was blazin’ in his chest—and his groin. He knew EMIYA’s dirty little secret way too well: the way a man’s gluttony melted him faster than an ice cube durin’ high noon. The Archer had left his treats unguarded when Amakusa discovered his sweet tooth. And when the Ruler came one morning, enormously flabby and flauntin’ it at every step, the pervert couldn’t stop blushin’! For Billy’s shock, neither could he. So did they become accomplices, secret friends bound by a common desire.

But gettin’ his pleasure from Robin, who hated every second of it? Damn, that was a new lowest of the low! Billy’s neck ached with strain as he did his best not to look, but he wouldn’t give in! “Forgive the question, partner,” he dropped it, hopin’ to divert the talk, “but if ya’re stuffin’ down so much food, how are ya not as fat as that priest boy?”

Robin clicked his tongue. “I’ve been burning off the calories. When I am not gulping down food here, I’m in the gym to work out. Doesn’t stop flab from piling.” Billy squinted, lookin’ for it, and caught himself. “But it does help.”

With some vigor, Billy’s line of sight moved higher—towards Robin’s arms. True, they were meatier, fillin’ the short sleeves of the shirt. Robin wasn’t a stick before, either, but now he was more powerful. Gorwin’. Maybe his legs had also bulked, but Billy didn’t wanna risk lookin’ at that gut again.

“Of course, after the training, my stomach is starving, and I chew down more food to make up for it. You should see how much EMIYA brings me then.”

Even more? Billy gulped—and before his brain could call out the horrible, horrible idea, he spoke. “Do ya need a partner for this job, partner? Someone to help with the trainin’ and to keep your appetite under control? Because ya can rely on me!”

“You know, that might help. Thanks a bunch!” Robin’s relieved smile stabbed Billy’s heart like a dagger. “Do you want to try it once I’m done here?”

“Sorry!” Billy jumped outta his chair. He wasn’t goin’ to ditch Robin—he owed up to his offers. “I’ve gotta do something else first!” Namely, one red Archer needed a few bullet wounds and a lecture on personal boundaries. “But tomorrow I’ll help ya!” And hopefully, he wouldn’t end distracted by that amazing, achy, hungry gut.

---

“Damn that EMIYA!” Billy shouted as he collapsed on his bed. “And that purple wretch, too! When did they form their party?” His talk with the red Archer a day ago had gone to the dogs. That man had balls of steel—no matter how many threats or bullets Billy wasted, EMIYA did not budge. And B.B. had hidden in her little mouse hole, without a trace of her anywhere in Chaldea. Billy couldn’t find her, no matter how many rooms he checked—as the stupid chef had told him.

“No whiff of the Master, either,” Billy grumbled. Da Vinci had promised to deal with the unruly pair, but B.B. would stop only if her so precious senpai ordered her. And unless she lifted the curse before breakfast tomorrow, Billy woulda to help Robin with the training again. The pillow muffled his screams. His heart woulda exploded in his chest after watchin’ his partner once. God help him if he had to see him bustle those weights while his gut shifted and gurgled. He hadn’t stopped glarin’ at the packed sphere once, paying attention and squirmin’ whenever it swayed. Robin’s unintended teasin’—him drummin’ over the sphere every once in a while—made it even worse. Billy barely had survived today; tomorrow would kill him!

Even worse, he said some calories stuck as fat. Did that mean an ever-flabbier Robin with a softenin’ gut? How much feedin’s would it take ‘till it became an enormous tank of lard; ‘till it sagged over his deck and he needed someone’s help to jerk himself off? It would jiggle whenever he took a step, it would flop over his shorts—hell, Robin woulda to pull them under his belly! His shirt would hide nothing; nay, it would show off those juicy curves.

Billy’s crotch twitched. No! He clenched fists, his nails diggin’ in his palms. “I’m not beatin’ it to Robin, no matter how smokin’ hot he becomes!” There were boundaries to those things! He rolled, now lyin’ on his back. His dick was makin’ a tent in his pants. The movement only made it rub against the fabric, and the pleasure flared up even more. “Self-control, self-control, self-control!” Billy repeated like a mantra. A burnin’, powerful feelin’ arose in his chest.

Would Robin gain love handles, too? They’d be juicy and plump, always to be grabbed when there was a chance. Billy imagined squeezin’ them in his fingers, the flab jigglin’. Would they push his shirt even higher, so large that nothing would cover them? And when Robin tugged it relentlessly, his gut would shake. The threads would strain and groan, but the clothes wouldn’t fit over that engorged mass. When he gained moobs…

Billy shut his eyes. His body was tense and feverishly hot. Sweat was burnin’ his forehead, and the flame in his dick pulsated through him. He shouldn’t think about those two swayin’, soft sacks of flab. He shouldn’t imagine carresin’ them, kissin’ them. Precum moistened his underpants.

“Who knew: I’m a pervert enough to do it!” Gruntin’, Billy peeled off his pants and pulled down his briefs, freein’ his dick. “Only this time!” He snatched the lube from his nightstand—his hands trembled and almost dropped it on the floor—and generously coated his fingers. “Do yer fuckin’ worst, libido!” he swore and began pumpin’ his cock. The first touch rustled through his body, a torrent of pleasure to drown him. No, oh no, oh, oh, oh yes, yes! He was breathin’ heavily, and his hand didn’t stop.

Robin’s moobs would show under his shirt—nay, so large that he couldn’t fit clothes over them. He’d parade around naked, a total show-off, his gut, and moobs, and love handles, and delicious, delicious backrolls for the whole world to ogle. The shirt would be a mere piece of fabric, stretched and useless, good only for hidin’ his shoulders—if even that!

Billy tried to hold his moans—keep at least that dignity. His insides were coilin’, his muscles were shiverin’. His dick stiffened more, and he drew every movement long until his body woulda broken under the strain of lust. He gulped the moan down, opened his lips for a hasty breath, and closed them immediately, the pant havin’ built up in his throat.

Robin would become a titan of a man, his torso a lardy mountain. He would carry all the weight, his freakin’ strong body put to good use. Those powerful arms he boasted an entire day—that was a start because he would also swell with packed flesh. His shorts would tear around his tights, the veiny mass crackin’ them apart. But he would pay no attention to that. The curse would drive him to eat and eat, glut himself more, unable to fight the thrall of the food. He would complain of his growth but never resist because he couldn’t—not even when he outgrew the chairs, the doors, the halls.

His stomach would be stuffed at all times, yet callin’ for more. What if Billy brought him snacks to the gym? Robin went only there and to the dinin’ hall. What if they shortened that time? What if he did not stop fillin’ his gut, gorgin’ himself, the sphere bloatin’ out of proportions, dominatin’ his already enormous frame? Then he would explode into more impossible, more gargantuan sizes. There would be no end, no control, only expansion and flab, and muscle…

Billy arched his back. A desperate, loud moan—almost a hiss—left his lips before he could bite it down. He was thrusting more rapidly, hastily, desperate for that release. If only he coulda Robin with himself, to have his way him.

If he were there—small, almost invisible next to the giant that was Robin, he would cheer. He would rejoice as the other Archer lifted heavier and heavier weights in the gym, his muscles so swole that they would tear the skin open. Veins would run under the sweaty flesh, visible over the bloated mass. And when Robin wanted to eat… Oh, boy, Billy would make sure he packed away his fill. He would push the meals in the other Archer’s mouth, rub his belly to provide comfort, and squish the flab under his fingertips, enjoy it as the gut would seemingly grow under his touch. Or, it would be tight and heavy, stretched to its limits, angry and protestin’ the constant stuffings. But it would be so used to the fullness and the cursed hunger that Robin wouldn’t handle a second without bein’ stuffed. It would be like an addiction—nay, it would be one—to eatin’, to blowin’ up, to growin’ fatter.

And if Robin enjoyed it as much as Billy, then the blond would have no problem givin’ some bonus help. He closed his eyes and imagined Robin’s dick in his hand. The massive roll of his gut pressed into the fingers, and as Billy stroked the cock, it would groan and roar, so overstuffed that it could burst open. He could also ride that massive ball, rub his member all over it while pushin’ caloric meals into Robin’s stomach. Or he could push his shaft between the two lardy ass checks and fuck Robin!

There, almost there! Billy was pantin’, out of breath, hot as coals. His ghosting fingertips ran across the red tip of his dick. It was an itchy, sudden touch that quickly ended. He hoped to prolong that sick, depraved cravin’ for as long as possible. Thoughts of relief were pushed to the corners of his mind.

Once their efforts came to an end, Robin would be huge, too large for his puny clothes. He would march around Chaldea, showin’ off his naked, heavy, thick body. The muscles would sway, the veins of his biceps and calves would shift. His enormous gut—so enormous that it would fall over his erect dick—would gurgle at every step: either achy and overfilled or not full enough and needin’ more. Robin would tend to it, gloat, relish in his new size and consume even more food. He would feed himself further into titanic sizes. Control would slip out of his mind. After gorgin’ himself, he’d be so horny, so desperate, that he’d pound Billy straight there in the canteen.

Cum shot outta Billy’s cock over his hand, and he was moanin’. His sheets were sticky as the white liquid soaked them., but he kept squeezin’ the last few lustful drops. The heat was sated, the achin’ hole in his chest filled for the time bein’. But, he realized with newfound clarity, tomorrow it would set him on fire again. And the thought of Robin attackin’ the filled tables like a beast sent a shiver down his dick again.

---

“Almost… There!” Robin grunted, gritting his teeth, and pushed up the barbell. His arms stretched, his large muscles expandin’ to their full size and squeezin’ again. His sleeves were already rolled as high as possible, not fittin’ around his swollen arms but tried to creep up more. Sweat was glistenin’ on the skin as it rippled - a proof of the effort he was puttin’ in. His round pecs—as big as apples—flexed, hard despite the flab that covered them. They swayed rhythmically as the weight moved up and down, plusatin’, tensin, and relaxin’: one, two; one, two. Billy’s eyes traced them as they shook, and he could see himself gropin’ them, holdin’ that powerful flesh… “And done!” Robin’s proud shout snapped out Billy. But it was for the worse because the huge Archer sittin’ on the bench let the barbell in place and scratched the curve of his gut, which rolled over his waist.

Fidgetin’ and tremblin, about as helpful as a snowball in a summer gunfight, Billy was warmin’ a nearby bench. He had been comin’ every day, unable to tear eyes away from the clothes that seemed to shrink around Robin’s growin’ body. The gym trips didn’t make him any smaller—especially when, after every workout session, Robin gorged himself until his bloated stomach couldn’t fit a morsel more. Then, he’d complain he was so full, drag out long moans and poke the stuffed sphere. As he sated his gluttony, it distended, pushed out more, and sometimes—a hot thrill cut through Billy—rested on his lap.

Billy bit his lips, strugglin’ not to slip a hand down in his pants right at the gym. He rubbed his tights together. His face was sizzlin’ like fire, and his breaths were rushed, unruly, desperate. He shook his head, hopin’ to clear the fantasy, but choose the damned best worst moment.

Robin jumped on the floor. The shockwave rocked the bench. Didn’t the equipment also rattle? Billy swallowed and the gulp lodged in his throat. He was shiverin’, truly feverish, trying’ to look away from the handsome behemoth. He knew what was comin’, but his neck refused to budge.

“Let’s go to the canteen.” Robin grinned lazily, his chubby cheeks jigglin’ a little. “After this stress, I should eat something.” He drew fingers over his exposed belly. Hadn’t he started touchin’ it more often—almost as if he got his kicks outta it.

No, no, no! Don’t think like that!

“Wasn’t the plan that you stopped stuffin’ your face, partner?” Billy wanted to stall—he was a god-damned coward. Once he saw Robin gulpin’ down food like there was no tomorrow, all pretenses of holdin’ back would fly straight outta the window. “Ya sure it’s not the purple hag’s doin’?” He didn’t know if he had the power to stand up without his legs meltin’ in a puddle.

Robin crossed arms behind his back, the mass of his bulky arms and forearms pressin’ together. “Does it matter much? I mean, I am not sprouting a pigtail, right? I was worried B.B. was literal with her curse.” He glanced down at his belly. “I can get used to some flab.”

Billy’s small body clenched as he struggled to hold back a moan. Robin was already a damn-fine lady-killer—in that case, a bloke-killer. His awesome, broad shoulders led to beefy arms, as thick as tree trunks - as possible capable of tearin’ them outta the ground. A soft layer of flab—quiverin’ unless Robin flexed—bloated their size further. But if Billy dragged fingers over ‘em, he’d feel the packed bulk underneath. Those powerful monsters could—a hiss of pleasure pinned him to the bench—snap him in two. Robin’s muscles were top-notch, too: wider than his arms, shaped by constant bustin’ at the gym and the very act of carryin’ his bulk. They were veiny, ripped, and made the puny summer shorts stretch and ride up under the curve of Robin’s gut.

That lardy overhand attracted attention without fail. It was an enormous sphere of pure fat. The hidden muscles kept it in a firm, massive, fat ball. Robin still tugged the shirt around his oversize middle; the buttons ached and shook, hangin’ for their dear life. His poor shorts fared even worse, trapped between the titanic tights and the blobby belly, strained into a thin line of fabric. What if, while Robin was packin’ away food, it snapped in two, no longer survivin’ the pressure? Would he shrug it off and keep eatin’, too gluttonous to consider it? Would he glut himself, his pecs—round, sightly saggin’, the perfect ending touch to his appearance—wobblin’ at the fast movements?

“Hey! Are you coming?” Robin asked. He had turned his back towards Billy. The shirt rested well above his soft, squeezable love handles, which trembled with each step. His bloated ass cheeks pressed together, foldin’ as he walked. The shorts barely covered them—and if Robin kept feedin’ himself and expandin’, no clothing would fit him. When the threads snapped, and his body exploded outta them.

Billy’s mouth opened wide, and he stood up, followin’ their hypnotizin’ sway. It wouldn’t come to that, would it? Robin had more self-control, did he not? But he had no problem with growin’ fatter—and if his eager steps were an indication, he could even await it. Billy’s imagination quickly did its job, paintin’ a pic of Robin, who was eatin’ no longer with resignation but with cheer. He would adore the way his flab folded or his muscles swelled. He would rejoice more the less he could see under the dome of his girth, proudly lift even heavier barbells and dumbbells and eat his weight in food.

“Come, or you’ll miss everything!” Robin shouted from the hall, turnin’ so fast that ripples spread through the entire mass of his engorged gut.

“I’m comin’, partner!” With an uneasy waddle, Billy followed him. Had he found out? Could he? As if he was a mutt with a yanked chain, the blond rushed down to the canteen. His brain could wait. Robin was right; Billy needed to see every second of that show.

---

Billy’s legs dragged him towards the canteen sluggishly, weakly. He hesitated at every step, pulled back, and then minced forward. What if someone saw him? He had to scram as fast as possible, get far from the dinin’ room. His dick was throbbin’ in his pants—and they were so tight that the whole Chaldea musta noticed. Hot sweat soaked him to the bone: anxiety, arousal, and anticipation. He had clenched his hands and mustered whatever willpower was left to him. “I’m not beatin’ it in the halls,” he murmured in the lonely corridor. “No matter how much I’m burnin’, no matter if it’ll drive me insane, no matter that Robin’s embraced piggin’ out and when I enter the canteen, I’ll find him stuffin’ himself sick.” Each second was painfully long-drawn torture as the twitches of pleasure set him ablaze.

“Can you walk faster, please? You partner”—the voice was so heavy with sarcasm that Billy could see it drippin’—“is inside and has already begun. If you arrive too late, he will have finished.”

“EMIYA!” Billy crouched in his shootin’ position. The tight pants rubbed his sensitive cock, and he felt himself edgin’ closer to release. He tried to hide the dick with his hands but brushed its tender head. “You’ve got a lotta courage,” he tried to push away that shameless joy, “showin’ up before my eyes.”

“Keep the rage for later. The curse would have failed if he did not enjoy it.” The unfazed Archer passed by him. Then, he stopped, glanced around shiftily, and turned back. “And you don’t have to thank me for this. Honestly. The grand plan was someone else’s.”

“I’m gonna give you all the gratitude you deserve, no worries!” Billy reached for his gun, but EMIYA slipped past him and disappeared.

He coulda chased the Archer, but there were more pressing things.

With the red vermin gone, Billy opened the doors and entered the canteen. He moved through empty chairs. The lively hall was now ghastly empty, not a sound to distract him.

Only one table was occupied—or, more accurately, three tables put together as a one. There was no other way the oversize feast woulda fitted. Potatoes, dazzlin’ with melted butter; meats with sauce as thick as syrup; mountains of golden, crispy fried rice—those were a few of the dishes, reversed for the special guest. And he was wolfin’ down a huge plate of appetizers along with a large bottle of soda to keep him company, the same ol’ grin plastered on his face. “Hey, partner!” he spoke, his mouth full. “I would say that you can pick whatever you like, but, uh, I have the feeling this is all for me.”

The flame of passion erupted into Billy. He bit his lips, and his hand reached for his cock, stroking it through the pants. It brought some short-lived relief, but then it rose higher—like a wave which would drown him if he stopped. “S-so,” he hoped to move the topic to anything else, “you were serious ‘bout enjoyin’ the curse, partner?”

The enormous gulp traveled down Robin’s throat. “How does it look to you?” He polished away the last few bites and set the plate on a pile of empty ones. When did he have the time? Billy had come ten minutes after him! How fast was Robin gorgin’ himself?

“If the red Archer will be my chef, I might get a use out of him.” Robin moved onto a juiced steak with bewitchin’ aroma and dug straight in, lickin’ the splotches of grease that stained his lips. “It’s not a weak start, but I bet I can do better. There’s a lot more to eat, after all. Do you want to watch?”

If Billy had any sense left, he should have realized the so clear teasin’. But he could only think about Robin’s huge body, about his gut and ass and bottomless hunger. Squirmin’, he nodded.

“Then you can sit here.” Robin patted the space on the bench near himself. “It might be a little tight, but a small guy like you can fit.”

Small. As if in a trance, Billy walked and plopped down, squeezin’ his body as close as possible to Robin’s flab. His left side was sinkin’ in the lard, feelin’ the warmth which the oversize Archer radiated. Those temptin’ rolls bulged over the smaller man, spillin’ over his lithe frame. He was like a mouse next to the engorged mountain that was Robin. “When did ya began enjoyin’ it, partner? Didn’t ya say ya will be stayin’ fit ‘n’ trim?” His hand hadn’t stopped runnin’ over his cock; how the hell had Robin not noticed?

“No, I did not want to be a pig. I thought B.B. would make me a large pink animal, but it seems she hadn’t been literal. Besides”—Robin stopped his feast to grip his flexed biceps, stretchin’ his fingers to fit around it—“this is quite far from a fat pig. I would have ended this earlier, but I had fun playing with you.

“You… On purpose?” Billy couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Why else? Did you think someone missed the way you were staring at me?”

It was as if a bomb had exploded in Billy’s chest. He shoulda been ashamed, distraught that his dirty secret was out in the open. But instead, he felt bliss, utter and true bliss. Robin was on the same page. Robin was on the same page! “Then, partner… Can I?” He was tremblin’, barely able to speak.

“Do whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

Billy jumped onto him, perchin’ himself atop the blobby gut. His face leaned forward, and he kissed Robin’s revealed moobs. He pressed his lips over the pecs. His face was enveloped in the soft chub, and his tongue caressed them from the perky nipples and up the curve, glidin’ over the muscle underneath.

He began grindin’ against Robin’s belly. The flab engulfed his cock. As Billy thrust into it, his dick not penetratin’ deep enough to fell the muscle, it shook around. Those jiggles made him throb with pleasure, arch his back, and squeeze—squeeze all he could.

Robin’s huge arms were the nearest. Billy’s hands slid over them, feelin’ the muscle ripple. The veins shifted with each movement and… Was Robin still stuffin’ himself?

The fat sphere pushed out, givin’ in less and less. Robin’s gut was growin’, fillin’ up with food, and he was bound to end even flabbier; even bigger—so impossibly enormous that Billy would be but a speck next to him. He’d be so tiny next to that solid wall of flab and flesh and beef!

Jizz soaked Billy’s underpants. The relief—the final relief—crashed over him like a wave and let out an unabashed moan in Robin’s chest. His warm, frantic pantin’ made the skin tingle.

And he rose his head, and his red, messy, wild smirk met a proud grin.

“For such a small guy, you’re pretty intense,” Robin said. He was breathing heavily, his belly pushing in and out. “Do you think you can handle a round number two?”

The blond, ruffled outlaw nodded, his body movin’ before his brain had a chance to react. “You betcha, partner!”

#weight gain story #male weight gain #male weight gain stories #robin hood #billy the kid #fate grand order #fgo #chubwritings

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