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buckybabesonly · 11 months ago

Text

as long as we're together (does it matter where we go?)

Summary: You don't want to be a burden to Bucky, knowing he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!OC

Genre: Angst

Length: 7.8k

Two years ago

“I don’t think I want to be with you anymore.”

Bucky had expected it. Weeks of you being distant, making secret phone calls, avoiding his touches like they physically hurt you. Countless times Bucky had asked, what's wrong?, only for you to shut him down and say that everything was fine. Bucky was sick of hearing that empty, meaningless mantra, but it didn’t mean that he reveled in your confession now.

Even though it didn't come as a surprise, it still felt like a punch to the gut. It physically winded him to hear those words leave your lips.

He wondered what he did wrong. He wondered where they went wrong. They were so in love, so wonderfully content in each other's company. You were his person. Steve had once told Bucky that he would find someone unexpectedly, when Bucky made an off-hand comment about how lucky he was to have met Peggy.

“You’ll find your Peggy.”

Things had been perfect. Or maybe Bucky had just been in denial, ignoring all the problems between you because he thought that his feelings for you triumphed over everything, no matter what hardships you may have been suffering from. How could he ever face the reality that you might actually leave in pursuit of something better?

Now, Bucky’s chest was tight with an indescribable feeling, both of you stood in your shared apartment. Your belongings stuffed into a black suitcase, Bucky’s heart in pieces on the hardwood floor.

He had expected it, but it didn't stop him from wanting to die.

"Why?" It was all he could ask. He wanted to know the reason, wanted to understand. Wanted to know if he could fix it. He was desperate to make you stay.

Bucky stared at your face. You looked so...indifferent. Unattached, in contrast to the woman he had met all those years ago. Where had the softness in your eyes gone? Why couldn’t you meet his pleading gaze, even now? At what point did your feelings for him start to fade, and was there anything he could have done to salvage it?

Your face was a blank slate, emotionless, and it made Bucky feel a truly troubling combination of sadness and anger. It was as if you had already said your goodbyes to their relationship, completely ready to move on whilst Bucky was still trying to process your words. You were ready to leave him behind to mourn.

“I don’t think we’re right for each other,” you had said quietly. “I don’t think we can give each other what we need.”

"Bullshit," Bucky said, his voice cracking. You grimaced ever so slightly at his tone, still unable to meet his eyes. "How can you say that?"

He took a step forward; you matched it with a retreating step, but with wide strides he seized your wrists. He silently willed you to say something which could somehow lessen the excruciating pain.

“Will you just look at me?”

He wanted so badly for you to meet his stare, to find some source of comfort within your eyes which usually held so much love for him.

Finally, you relented and lifted your head. They did not fill Bucky with any hope. You pressed your lips together firmly as he searched your face desperately for any sign of residual affection.

"We - we're in love. How can you say after all these years that we're not right for each other? For fuck's sake, will you just tell me what happened?"

"People change, Bucky," you said softly. The look on your face - was it sadness, or apathy? "We've become too distant."

"And whose fault is that?" Bucky released you then. He was so angry, wanting to elicit some sort of reaction from you, that he wanted to punch the wall beside them. It made him feel nauseous at how stoic you were now, like a piece of unyielding rock. He knew you hated it when he took his anger out physically. You had been the one to teach him how to manage his rage more constructively, to talk things out and use his words rather than his fists.

"Are you trying to say it's mine?" Your tone was sharp, finally demonstrating some emotion. "Are you saying that all those nights waiting for you to come back home, all those evenings alone whilst you stayed at the Tower, all those hours I spent staring at the four walls of this apartment were my fault?"

"You left me!" Bucky retorted, gritting his teeth. "You left me long before today! You think I haven't noticed? You can barely stand touching me. You're always on your phone, always texting, always out seeing your 'friends'," he said, making air quotes. "I asked Wanda, she said you haven't been meeting her or your other friends for weeks. Who's this 'friend’? Who the fuck is it that's so important that you can't spare any time for me, never mind your actual friends?"

A long, pregnant pause filled the air, an indecipherable mask on your face once more. Bucky’s eyes were wet, and if he hadn't been so angry, he would've seen the way your lower lip was trembling ever so slightly, the way it did whenever you were trying not to cry. It had been the biggest telltale sign for him over the years to know when you were upset and trying your best to hide it.

He was usually so good at reading you, but he was blinded with sadness.

"Fine," you said eventually, slicing the silence with a shaky exhale. "I'm seeing someone else."

You might as well have struck Bucky across the face.

Suspecting it and hearing the words fall from your lips were two different things. He physically reeled back in anguish as he stared at you. He took in the sight of his girlfriend in front of him, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. This was, without a doubt, the woman he had met five years ago. The woman he spent five years loving. The woman whom he recognized no longer.

"Why?" Bucky whispered, all the fight leaving his body. He physically seemed to sag, forehead creasing at all the other questions running through his mind, visions of you being touched and fucked by some faceless, nameless man.

You were almost pitiful in the way you looked at Bucky, and he hated it.

"I care for you, Bucky. But I’m not in love with you anymore. And I'm sorry I had to do this to you. Things just got out of control."

I’m not in love with you anymore.

You offered no further information, but he had stopped listening, anyway. The finality in your voice pierced him slowly, tortuously, through the heart. He barely moved when you took your suitcase and pulled it out behind you, out of their apartment. Out of his life.

The door slammed shut.

Present day

You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Mercedes Knight & Samuel Wilson

Sam had become Bucky’s closest confidant in the past few years, and the latter had been a close witness as Sam met Mercedes ‘Misty’ Knight, a former NYPD officer who had somehow become roped into their crazy world. It was no surprise to Bucky when they announced their engagement just six months into dating.

Bucky found himself being pulled into their wedding planning discussions far too often. He tried to keep an amused smile at bay whilst listening into Misty and Sam’s wedding talk at the Tower. They were using one of the many conference rooms - a Knight-Wilson union was official business, Misty insisted.

"Are you bringing a date?" Misty asked suddenly in the middle of everything, the question directed at Bucky.

"Of course he's bringing a date," Sam smirked. "Heard things with Sharon are going well, right?"

Bucky smiled non-committedly, shrugging. "She's great." It didn’t go unnoticed by Sam that this didn’t quite answer his question.

"You two look good together," Misty offered. She glanced at her watch and widened her eyes theatrically, grabbing Sam’s hand. "Oh crap, we need to go meet with the wedding planner."

"But it feels like we just sat down," Sam complained.

"There's no rest for the bride and groom, Sam," Misty said, pulling her fiancé out of his seat as she waved goodbye at Bucky.

As soon as they departed, the smile on Bucky’s face dimmed. He was beyond happy for his two friends, he really was - but every couple he knew was a fresh reminder of his own failed love life.

Ever since you, he hadn't been in a long term relationship. Sharon is different, he told himself, and she was. They had been friends for a long time, and of course spent a lot of time together carrying out missions and the like. Over time, somehow, they had gotten closer, and one day Sharon had just asked him, “So when are you going to ask me out, Barnes?”

At that point, Bucky was still frequently thinking about you. Sharon had never met you before, but Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if she had heard stories about you from the others, since he had been notoriously affected by the breakup. Even though he was dealing with the aftershocks of the broken relationship, he was forcing himself to get past it.

They had been dating for two months now, and it only seemed right for Sharon to be his date at the wedding.

He had moved on. He was no longer the depressed, dark wreck he was when you left.

Sometimes it’s better to lie to yourself than to face the reality.

“You invited Bucky’s ex to the wedding?” Misty asked curiously.

“Uh, yeah. She’s not just his ex,” Sam explained gently. “She’s my friend too, and I haven’t seen her since she left town.”

"You told Bucky?"

"Nope," Sam snorted, shaking his head. "I can't. I don't think he'd turn up if I did. I want them both there on the day - I'm sure they can be civil for one night."

“I wonder how Bucky will react," his future wife pondered.

Sam shrugged. Not well, probably.

"What else can I do? I can’t not invite her, I really want her to be there. You never met her, so you don’t know, but she’s been through some shit.”

“I know, I know, you told me,” Misty said. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. Do you think she'll be okay seeing Bucky again? Especially if he'll be there with Sharon?"

"She said she can handle it. She would be happy to see that Bucky was happy. She was the one who practically begged me to encourage him to move on."

“Do you think he has?”

Sam paused, considering the question carefully.

“He has to.”

Several weeks later, Misty Knight and Sam Wilson were officially wed at the local registration office. The day was full of hugs, cacophonous laughter, friends and family, and Bucky watched with a wide beam on his face as he witnessed his friends glow. Those kinds of smiles were few and far between nowadays, but he was truly happy for once.

"They look so good together," Sharon murmured as hundreds of guests filled the hotel ballroom, the party commencing in full swing. The newlyweds were in the center of the room, Misty being twirled around wildly by a laughing Sam before his wife collapsed against his chest in fits of giggles, looking up into his eyes adoringly.

More and more people joined them on the dance floor after the conclusion of their official first dance.

"Barnes, would you like to dance?" Sharon asked suddenly with a smile, extending a hand.

Bucky chuckled, allowing her to take his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.

An hour passed, and Bucky had to truthfully say that he was enjoying himself, assisted by all the alcohol he had consumed. Sharon was draped all over him as they swayed to the music, and Bucky found himself appreciating the feel of her body against his all too much, the scent of her intoxicating. His hands felt the fabric of her silky, emerald green dress, buried his nose into Sharon's blonde hair, sighing softly as he tightened his grip on her waist.

Her perfume was strong and woodsy, like a forest. It irritated his nose ever so slightly. You had preferred a more subtle, floral perfume, one that smelt like sakura blossoms.

Sharon was more confident and seductive in the way she danced, whilst you used to always let yourself become putty in his arms, enjoying how he took the lead and managed to make you look like you knew how to dance despite your two left feet.

However, despite the differences, if Bucky closed his eyes and just tried a little harder, he think he could pretend that -

"Sorry to interrupt.”

Bucky pulled away from Sharon suddenly, and he turned to mock glare at Sam. "What do you want, Wilson?"

"Need to borrow you for a minute," Sam said, an undecipherable expression on his face. Bucky tried to see where Misty had disappeared off to, but saw no trace.

"Um, sure..." Bucky tried to read Sam’s face but gleaned nothing.

"I'll just go say hi to Natasha," Sharon said, giving Bucky’s forearm a squeeze before she disappeared.

Sam’s smile faded, and he caught Bucky’s arm in a vice grip. "I need to tell you something. Don't get mad, okay?"

"What?" Bucky scowled as Sam dragged him to the side of the room, weaving through the crowds of guests. "What good news starts with, ‘don’t get mad’? Are you gonna tell me you want to run out on Misty or something?" He joked.

Sam pulled him out through one of the open French doors which led to a pretty, outdoor stone balcony. He shut them behind him as Bucky continued to babble, a little tipsy from the champagne he'd had. "I gotta tell ya, if she asks me to kick your ass I will literally do so -”

"Bucky," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "She’s here." Meeting Bucky’s nonplussed eyes, your name rolled off Sam’s tongue in clarification.

He felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs as he stared back at Sam, who looked uncharacteristically anxious.

“What?" He asked hoarsely, instantly sobering up. “What do you mean?”

Chills were running through his body. The name he had avoided for years was suddenly causing him to feel breathless. How did you still have such an affect on him?

"She couldn't make it to the ceremony earlier today, but she just arrived."

"You - you invited her here? She’s here, now?"

"Yes," Sam replied, nodding. "I invited her.” He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest almost defiantly.

Bucky was speechless for a moment, taking a step back and scoffing. He shook his head. “Do you remember what she did to me?”

“I'm sorry, Buck..."

Bucky suddenly laughed, startling Sam. His laugh was curt, humorless. "What are you sorry for? I'm over her, Sam. It was two years ago. I haven't seen her in two years. I don't care anymore," he said quickly. Too quickly.

"Listen -"

"Look, it's okay." Bucky raised his hands in small surrender. “You have the right to invite whoever you want. I’m not mad. But I just don’t want to be held accountable for whatever happens now.”

He turned and wrenched the French doors open with such force that the handle buckled slightly. The noise inside the ballroom spilled out to replace the painful silence on the balcony.

He disappeared inside before Sam could say anything else, and he tried to hide it, but Sam could clearly see that his hands were shaking as he marched inside.

For the next twenty minutes, Bucky found sanctuary in the restrooms. He stood inside the stall, trying to stop himself from mentally collapsing.

He didn’t know what was happening. He had never felt this overwhelming panic rush over him before, immobilizing him. Anger, sadness and yearning swirling inside a melting pot of emotions that was crippling him.

She was here. The woman he hadn't seen in two years, the woman who broke his heart, the woman who betrayed him, the woman who left him in tatters.

Your infidelity had had an unforeseen impact on him. When he first found out, he was devastated. Terrified of how you became someone he didn’t recognize - or had you always been someone capable of betraying him, just good at hiding it?

You had poisoned all the happy memories they had once shared. Bucky found himself recounting all the years you were together, micro-analyzing everything, wondering if there was a hidden lie behind it all.

That was one of the things which made him angriest. You turned all the beautiful years of your relationship into a lie. None of it was real, Bucky had told himself.

You crushed him.

Of his feelings, anger prevailed, slowly simmering to the surface, like a volcano about to erupt. How dare you walk back into his life like this? He would show you, Bucky thought with determination. He was over you. He had no reason to be angry, he thought bitterly, because you were nothing to him.

Just like Bucky was nothing to you.

When he emerged from the toilets, the first thing he did was find Sharon. She looked relieved to see him, although confusion was clear on her face as she eyed Bucky.

"Where have you been? Are you feeling okay?" She commented, brow furrowed with concern.

"I'm fine," Bucky assured her. "Have you seen Sam?"

Sharon pointed, puzzlement still painted across her face, and Bucky snapped round quickly.

And there you were.

It was as if you had never left. As if the past two years filled with Bucky trying to eradicate every memory and feeling he had for you had never happened, because as soon as Bucky’s eyes found you through the crowd, everything came collapsing back down on top of him like an avalanche. Suffocating.

You were still so beautiful, strikingly so. Like a burning beacon among the crowd, Bucky’s eyes found your face as easily as anything. For a second, he allowed himself to ignore anything except you, and how the sight of you still managed to take his breath away.

You looked thinner than he remembered, your face gaunt. Bucky frowned slightly at this acute observation and found himself wondering if you had been taking care of yourself.

"Barnes? You okay?"

Bucky registered Sharon shaking his arm, but his eyes remained fastened on yourself and Sam. Neither of you had spotted Bucky yet, who was rooted to the spot like a statue. Sam’s mouth was moving, words that Bucky couldn't hear escaping his mouth, but his expression was angry. Almost as if he was scolding you for something.

"I have to...I..." Bucky stumbled over his words, voice faint. He could feel those tendrils of anger slowly seizing him again, wisps at first, until they grew more and more potent by the second. He remembered every single thing he felt when you left him, and instead of trying to hold back the emotions, Bucky just saw red.

"Let me introduce you to someone," he said suddenly, his voice strained as he took Sharon's hand.

"You said you were better," Sam said, expression torn.

"I am," you lied, trying to put on a smile. Truth was, you were exhausted, just like how you always felt. The ballroom was so crowded and loud, and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep, which you would the moment you finished congratulating Sam and Misty. And perhaps, even though you didn't want to admit it, you wanted to catch a glimpse of Bucky, too.

"Look at you, you're -"

“Sam, please don’t,” you interrupted gently. “Just drop it, please? It’s your big day, I don’t want you to worry about anything else.”

Sam opened his mouth to talk, but stopped suddenly, his eyes flitting to look behind you.

"Hey."

You froze. You knew that voice, of course. Heard it enough times, the deep, gravelly voice that had once whispered sweet pet names, proclamations of love, and plagued your dreams ever since you left him.

You had longed to hear his voice again, hear your name being spoken lovingly. His voice was your favorite sound in the world. Except tonight, hearing it for the first time in two years, you heard nothing but ice.

"Bucky?" You turned slowly, and your breath hitched. He was just the way you remembered him. Even more handsome, if possible. Clad in a sleek black tux, tall and dark and sexy, everything you had missed and dreamed of, and...

He was holding another woman’s hand.

"Bucky," Sam repeated, voice tense. Bucky could hear the underlying warning.

"It's been a while," he said stiffly, acting as neutral as he could. As if he hadn't spent months after their terrible break up being a shell of who he used to be, barely repaired even now. Bucky felt like any other venomous words from your mouth would shatter him again, but he had to take the chance. He had to talk to you, show you that he had moved on. He didn't care about you anymore, or how you so ruthlessly left him.

"Yes," you said weakly, smiling softly. God, he still thought that you looked beautiful, clad in a periwinkle blue dress, a thick coat draped around your shoulders. You were shivering, and Bucky resisted the urge to ask you what was wrong. Now that he was closer, he could see that didn’t look well at all. You had dark circles under your eyes and your collarbones were too prominent, your gaze devoid of any livelihood.

You glanced at Bucky’s fingers interlaced with a gorgeous blonde. You had seen her on the news before, you were pretty certain. Your smile forcibly stretched wider, blinking a few times, not knowing what to do with yourself.

"This is Sharon," Sam said, clearing his throat and exchanging introductions.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Sharon said politely. She was gorgeous, you thought, watching as she sent Bucky a subtle, questioning glance.

Bucky was still staring at you, unmoving. You took the initiative first.

“Bucky, can we talk for a second?"

You could see the way he was trying to control himself by the way his lips stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He gave a curt nod. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Sharon and the other hundreds of wedding guests.

“Let’s leave these two to catch up,” Sam said lightly, trying to hide his discomfort as he led Sharon away.

"So now you want to talk?" Bucky asked as soon as they were out of earshot, his voice sharp. You cringed, almost folding into yourself at Bucky’s hard stare.

"Yes," was all you managed to whisper, eyes darting to the ground to avoid meeting his glare. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

You turned and walked towards the exit of the ballroom, turning back to look at Bucky. He followed after a second, his jaw set like stone as you led the way to the empty lobby outside, away from the noise.

"It's been a while, Buck.” You voice was sad as you turned to face him again.

"Yes," he said, fighting an internal battle. He was so torn. Seeing you again made him want to wrap you up in his arms like he would've done two years ago, when you were still together. And feeling like that made Bucky angry. What right did you have to make him feel this way? Who gave you the right to mess with Bucky’s heart again after so long?

"How have you been?" You asked eventually after a painfully awkward silence.

He scoffed at that. "How have I been?" He repeated incredulously. He doubted you really wanted to hear about all those nights he spent in his apartment, refusing to talk to his friends, being a complete social introvert (more than he usually was) because he felt like he just couldn't live anymore. Not without you.

"Great. Fantastic," he said without a shred of sincerity.

You stared at him for the longest time, your lips pressed into a thin line. You looked so regretful that it made Bucky feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," you said eventually, your voice wavering like you were struggling to breathe properly. "I'm so sorry for leaving you like that. We...we could have ended things better. You didn't deserve how I treated you."

You flinched when Bucky scoffed derisively. He dropped any remaining restraints he had previously put in place, letting all his feelings run free.

"Are you kidding me? Why? Why are you coming back here and apologizing after all this time?" He felt like he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration as he stared at you, making sure to keep his distance lest he found himself wanting to pull you closer. God, it was all so confusing. He despised you, and yet seeing you here in the flesh was everything he had ever wanted in the last few years.

He hated how you were making him feel.

"Look, it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done," he spat through gritted teeth, all the while completely unaware of how your heart clenched painfully at Bucky’s scornful eyes. “Do you have any idea how unfair this is? You fucked up big time, disappeared off the face of the earth, then come back standing in front of me now asking how I am?”

“I know. You’re right, about everything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”

“No. You have no right to do this,” Bucky seethed. “You have no right to come back here and try to - what, settle your guilt? Make amends?”

You didn’t say anything, choosing to let him vent instead.

“I still remember the way you left. What you did. I will never forgive you for that. So don’t you dare stand in front of me today with all this bullshit and expect me to have something nice to say.”

"You really hate me, don't you?" You asked then, taking Bucky off guard. You lifted your head properly to stare at him, and the look in your eyes was unsettling.

"I hate you," Bucky confirmed unwaveringly, his voice hard. "I hate what you did to me and by extension, you."

You didn't respond. You bit your lower lip hard, trying desperately not to cry in front of him. Your heart hurt so much.

It was the worst feeling in the world, maybe, seeing the man you loved so dearly tell you that he hated you. It was excruciating, the clenching inside your chest as Bucky’s words rang in your head.

"I know my apologies will never be enough. I just wanted to see if you're happy now," you whispered.

"I'm happy," Bucky replied almost immediately. "I'm happy with Sharon. Does that bother you? Did you hope that I'd still be pining after you? I'm not that pathetic anymore." The barriers were broken, and the hurtful words were falling from Bucky’s mouth, two years worth of it.

“I never said you were pathetic,” you retorted, slightly indignant. “I’m glad that you’re happy.”

Bucky was breathing hard, unconvinced by your words.

“And how's the man you left me for?"

"He...it didn't work out," you shrugged, trying to keep your face as straight as possible.

"Good," Bucky said harshly. "Because you don't deserve happiness." If he wasn't so mad, he wouldn't say such irrational things. But he just wanted you to hurt. He wanted you to feel all the pain you caused.

Bucky pretended he didn't hear you gasp. He pretended that he didn't see your eyes gloss over at the sheer amount of hate in his voice.

"Okay," you said finally, your voice clearly shaking. "Okay," you repeated again, nodding your head. Bucky watched you take a step back, away from him.

“I -”

“I'm sorry, Bucky. Please take care," you interrupted, smiling sadly before you turned and walked away as quickly as possible.

That was not how you envisioned the reunion to go. All you wanted was to apologize, know that he was happy, so that you could go in peace.

But maybe that was the consequence of your decision. Maybe he was just always going to hate you for the rest of his life and remember you as someone awful.

You didn’t know that all Bucky wanted to do was run after you. Tell you to stop. He wanted to apologize and tell you how he didn’t mean a word of what he just said.

Rage and pride kept him shackled, and he watched your retreating back, feeling like a coward.

The last thing Bucky expected when he opened his apartment door a few days later was Sam’s dirty glare.

"You can be a mean son of a bitch, do you know that?”

"Hello to you too,” Bucky retorted.

“Why did you say all that stuff to her?” Sam asked, pushing his way past Bucky.

Bucky closed the door, knowing exactly who he was referring to.

"Why is this any of your business?"

"You acted like a dick!" Sam said furiously.

“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done something like that on your special day. But-”

“I want you to feel sorry to her.”

"She left me,” Bucky exclaimed. "You were there, Sam, you saw how fucked up she made me. She cheated on me! You want me to apologize to her?” His face was incredulous.

“You’re so fucking frustrating.”

“Oh, excuse me for not being the bigger person,” Bucky sneered. “But you don’t know how she made me feel, Sam, so don’t you dare try to give me a fucking lecture now.”

Sam was quiet for the longest time, looking exasperated. He stared up at the ceiling, sighing.

“Bucky, look man. She never cheated on you,” Sam said finally, an apologetic look in his eyes.

The apartment became filled with nothing but the sounds of Bucky’s heavy breathing.

“What are you talking about?” He spat, realizing now that Sam knew something he didn’t.

Sam let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. But fuck it, man, cause I think this is messed up. She’s sick, Bucky," he said solemnly. "Like, really sick."

Two years ago

"It's cancer, Sam."

You physically couldn't cry anymore. You had done enough of that the day the doctor had told you, your eyes puffy and swollen. Funnily enough, the first person you had sought out wasn’t your boyfriend, but rather his best friend.

Bucky wasn’t even in town that weekend, and you really didn’t want to tell him over the phone. In fact, you never wanted to tell him. How do you tell the man you love that you're dying?

"You can get treatment, right?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. It’s not looking good. They're doing some sort of new clinical trial in England, but even that’s a long shot. I - I’m going to try, though.”

Sam sat up straighter. “And Bucky?”

"You can't tell him," you said firmly. You had thought about it all night, and you knew you couldn't let him know. You didn't want to put him through something like this. "My father had cancer too, Sam," you said softly. "He died in so much pain, he had so much treatment but it didn't help. He was throwing up all the time, having fevers, his body was so weak, and by the end he wasn’t the same anymore. I don't want him to see me like that."

“But-”

“No buts,” you said. You had given it enough thought already. You knew that you would have to be very, very lucky to make it through this - the end was essentially inevitable. There was no way you would make Bucky bear witness to you succumbing to this illness the same way you had to watch your father.

It was the worst time of your life. You had told Bucky about it in the past, as he had never had a chance to meet your father since he passed away years before you met Bucky. Knowing what you did, you would never inflict that same experience on him.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I have to leave him.” You had been preparing yourself for what you needed to do all night. "If I go, there's a chance I might not come back, you understand that, right?"

"Don't say things like that," Sam said forcefully, clenching your hand. "Just stop. Bucky will support you all the way, you know that!"

"That’s exactly why I have to go by myself. I can't be selfish, Sam. I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I can’t make him drop everything to make me his number one priority. Looking after me will take time and constant care. If I go to England, he will abandon everything and come. Manhattan is his home.”

Sam looked anguished and you knew that he was disagreeing with everything you had just said, but you plowed on.

"It’s not just a matter of time and effort. If he stays, he will watch me die, and I don’t want him to do that.” You began to cry, and Sam hugged you, wishing he could say something comforting.

“It’s okay," you said through the tears, even though every fiber in your body was telling you the opposite. You had been repeating these words to yourself all night, as if you would believe it if you said it enough times. "It’ll be okay."

Maybe you were being stupid, but you didn't care. You knew Bucky loved you with his body and soul, as did you. But you weren’t going to let him suffer over your illness. You wouldn't let the person you cared most about in the world see you slowly deteriorate.

You had been witness to how your father was clearly in a depressive state, and yet tried his hardest to pretend to be happy and fine around other people. You didn’t know if you had the strength or bravery to even pretend.

You began distancing yourself. Stopped trying to make conversation with Bucky, until the long, endless, random talks you used to share diminished into curt sentences. You stopped waiting for Bucky to come home, simply pretending that you didn't care. You became more secretive, furtively hiding your calls with your doctor and your mother.

There was no other man. You loved him and only him, and had been nothing but faithful. You didn't know what hurt more: having to lie to Bucky or the fact that he so easily believed you would betray him like that.

In the end, you had really regretted fabricating a story of infidelity. You should have just gone your separate ways without making him think that you had been unfaithful. But at that time, you wanted to find a quick solution that would make Bucky voluntarily detach himself from you. It seemed like a wise decision, but you really, really wish you hadn’t let him believe that you didn’t love him. It was truly the worst feeling in the world.

It was all over in a few weeks. You packed your things and left, trying not to cry with every heavy step you took towards the door of your apartment. You knew you were making the best decision for them both, surely.

Time would heal Bucky, and he would be happy again one day.

It just couldn’t be with you.

Present day

"She just didn’t want to feel like a burden to you, man," Sam said, shaking his head. "Why did you have to say all those things to her at the wedding?"

Bucky could register nothing else after Sam finished explaining everything. He was in disbelief, though he knew that there was no way Sam would fabricate a story like that.

Now, he could only think of the way he had shouted at you. The way he told you how much he hated you. The way you had left.

"Where is she?" Bucky whispered.

"She’s leaving today," Sam said tersely. "She’s going back to England. She was real sick for a long time, and she recovered a few months ago, but the cancer came back.”

He slipped a hotel business card into Bucky’s hand. “This is the address she’s staying at," Sam said.

He grasped it like a lifeline, eyes unable to see Sam standing in front of him. His vision was completely filled with images of you.

"Go," Sam said forcefully. "Go and find her.”

The tears wouldn't stop falling.

You didn't know words could hurt so much. Sure, you had expected Bucky to hate you, but you weren’t prepared for the way every single word seemed to embed themselves into your skin like splinters into your heart.

They were once so happy. They were so perfect.

You hated yourself. Hated yourself for getting ill, for ruining what you had. The logic was irrational, but the self-hatred had become second nature.

You had spent the last few days holed up in your hotel. You had planned to use the time to see a few friends before returning to England, but you no longer had the heart.

You left your room that morning only because Wanda was furious that she missed you at the wedding, and you agreed to have coffee with her. She almost cried at the sight of you, but you put on a brave face, refusing to talk about Bucky. You begged her if you could just talk about happy topics and she eventually obliged, smiling sadly when you hugged each other goodbye.

“I’ll see you again, dear,” Wanda had said, and you hoped to God she was right.

As soon as you got inside your hotel room, you felt a switch click internally.

Everything hurt. You were tired, unhappy and you really didn’t know if you would ever make it out of this emotional blackhole. You felt so weak, like you would keel over at any given moment.

Cancer really was a bitch.

You kicked off your shoes and entered the bathroom. You lay down in the bathtub, fully clothed, turning the cold water on until you were almost completely submerged, wanting to numb all the pain inside your body and mind.

You eyes were red and swollen, and you couldn't remember crying so much since that day the doctor diagnosed you. Why was life so unfair? You wanted your old life back again. The life where Bucky didn't detest you, the one where he was happily and wonderfully in love with you.

You lay back, letting the water cover you completely. You closed your eyes, your hair gently swirling around your face. You opened your mouth and screamed, bubbles erupting to the surface.

Eventually you emerged, gasping and coughing, your tears hot in contrast to your frozen face. Your body wracked with sobs, shaking uncontrollably.

You sank back down into the water, your mouth opening once more to scream in uncontrollable rage. It was cathartic, your fists clenched into balls as you willed the feelings inside you to just - disappear.

When you opened your eyes beneath the water, you nearly gasped at the sight of a blurry, warped figure above you. You didn't have time to do anything when arms were suddenly encasing themselves around you, lifting you to the surface.

You spluttered and coughed, your ears assaulted by the voice that once whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"- the fuck are you doing? Are you okay?"

Bucky.

You blinked past the water in your eyes, bewildered at the sight of him, kneeling beside the bathtub with his hands gripping your shoulders. His bright blue eyes were scared, wide open with concern.

You were startled at his sudden appearance, unable to say anything as he scooped you out, lifting you with ease. You were clearly in shock and scared.

You collapsed against him as he sat down on the bathroom floor with you in his arms.

"What were you doing?” Bucky was appalled as he pulled you close to him, watching how you continued to weep, blinking blearily at him. Your body was ice cold, every inch of you soaked.

He whipped a towel down from the railing beside you, wrapping it around your body as you shivered uncontrollably.

"Bu - Bucky?" You asked, as if you couldn't fathom why he was here. You were almost convinced you were hallucinating.

"Fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes," Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he tried not to cry. He had so much to say to you. He wanted you to know how sorry he was, how he didn't mean anything he said, but now wasn’t the time. He had to be strong for you.

You felt like a baby as Bucky removed your soaking wet garments until you were naked, then immediately swaddled you with more towels. He picked you up completely off the floor and took you out of the bathroom.

He chose to place you down on the edge of the bed, positioning himself to kneel down in front of you.

"Bucky," you whispered, voice thick, trying to pull away from him. “I think you should just leave me alone."

He stiffened. It scared him to hear you talk like this, to see you look at Bucky with such defeat in your eyes.

“No,” he said resolutely. “I'm here now, okay? I'm here, I'm not leaving, and I need you to be with me. I need you here, talking to me.”

"I can't. I can't do this anymore. Just go, please."

Bucky looked at you then. Really looked at you. The woman he loved and misunderstood for so long was now a trembling wreck in front of him, skin paper thin and trembling like a leaf. You looked so vulnerable and sad, and it made his heart twist.

Bucky suddenly held you tight against his chest, tucking his nose against the crook of your neck, and you didn't resist.

"Do you have any idea how much I hate myself? I hate myself for letting you go through this alone. I hate myself for telling you all those lies that night. I love you, I love you, I love you," Bucky said, wishing that you would see it.

“Don’t.”

“I wish you had told me. I would have helped you. You should have told me. I can’t believe you -”

You realized now that Sam must've told him the truth, and you sighed softly.

"I'm not good for you, Bucky," you whispered. "I will only ever hurt you, put you through more pain."

"I know everything now," Bucky said firmly. "No matter what happens, I will gladly endure it as long as it means we're no longer apart."

“Don’t be so stupid,” you said, anger tearing through your voice, though the tears were still falling. “I’m broken, Buck. I can’t give you a future. Please just find someone else - stay with Sharon.”

“Sharon?” If you hadn’t mentioned her name, Bucky would never have even thought about her. “No - we’re not serious, doll. She was never going to be the one.”

“No,” you insisted. “If not her, then fine, find someone else. Just not me.”

“Why aren’t you listening?” Bucky asked furiously. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please don’t do this. I need you." He was desperate to make you see, to make you understand. It was you or nothing. "You don’t know how awful the past few years have been. I don’t want to be apart from you, please.” He was prepared to grovel at your feet and beg.

He hated himself for how easily he gave up two years ago. This time, he was not letting you leave him.

His beautiful blue eyes pleaded with you, and you felt your barricades crumble. Your arms finally moved to wrap around him, and he felt a wave of relief as he encircled you in his arms. You had missed this, the feeling of Bucky holding you so tenderly.

You didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but you wanted to give in so badly and just let yourself be selfish and enjoy what time you could have together. And now that Bucky had you back by his side, he was definitely not going to let you go.

Even if they were in pieces, at least they were together. And Bucky was positive that they could put those pieces back into a whole, as long as you gave it a chance.

"You're so stupid," you said through your tears.

"I don't think so," Bucky said, managing the smallest smile. "Just stupidly in love with you."

You wanted to stay like this forever, entangled in each others arms. He pulled back slowly to study your face, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your lips. He kissed you again, deeper this time, breathing you in.

“You owe me two years of kisses,” he mumbled.

You laughed softly, but it soon died. First, you had a lot of talking to do. You used the following hour to tell him the details about your illness, why you had left, how sorry you were for treating Bucky the way you did when you broke up with him.

"You're so dumb," Bucky had said, sounding furious for a moment. "You had no right to decide something like that for me. You know I would support you.”

"I know, Buck," you had interrupted. "That's exactly why I had to leave. I didn't want you to see me die, okay?"

You had looked like you were about to cry again, so Bucky stopped scolding you immediately. He would never make you cry again, he swore.

"You're here now," he said, kissing your temple. "We're together now. Everything feels...right again."

You swallowed, biting your lip. "I told you, my cancer is back and -"

"You'll get better again," he said, refusing to look at you. You knew that tears were in his eyes. "You'll get better, okay?" His voice wavered slightly.

"It's worse this time, Bucky," you said. "Look at me. I'm practically withering away."

"You'll get better," he said, clenching his teeth.

You didn't say anything, just nestled against Bucky’s chest, relishing the way he wrapped his arms securely around your frame as if you would disappear at any moment.

Maybe he was right. Maybe by some miracle, with Bucky by your side, you would be able to give him all the time in the world.

"I'll try to stick around," you whispered.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky angst #sebastian stan #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x you #bucky

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artsninspo · 3 months ago

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005 | Richmond Inc.

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」

⇚ 004

♠ summary: Lorence's unexpected 'crashout' has unexpected consequences.

♠ warnings: there is some backstory for Lorence that may be triggering to readers.

♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Lorence Cole (Black Fem OC)

♠ word-count: ~3K

⌖ - Various Locations

It’s been a week since I've been home or exercised, so I practice deep breaths as I slow my run to a jog and turn the corner into my cul-de-sac. Checking my watch I see my heart rate is higher than it needs to be. It’s one of the results of my recent unemployment. Random streaks where my heart races without due cause - like I’m under attack when my brain knows I’m safe and sound. I try to help my body out by walking when I see a cherry red Mercedes parked in front of my home. I take in more air to aid in the slowing of my heart rate. I take my phone from my vest and look over the outdoor surveillance, relief finds me the instant I recognize Cassandra.

“You haven't been poached already have you?” she asks getting out of her car, stilettos hit the pavement. I expect her to be holding a box of my things cleared out from my office but she’s only holding her briefcase.

“Hey” I smile and she does too.

“How are you? You look fantastic” she says like the last time we were in each other's presence it wasnt disastrous. That was a little over a week ago now.

“Thanks, so do you” I force a smile feeling awkward.

“Can I come in so we can talk?” she asks, walking up the front steps behind me. I nod until a bark sounds from inside. I turn to see she looks terrified.

Snickering, I shake my head. “Just give me a moment to let the dog out”

“Take your time” she nods, taking a step back.

“Back” I say before unlocking the door. I look down at Beau who pushes past me to look outside. “Outside Beau” I tell my four legged protector. He looks up at me before giving me an annoyed chuff and following me to the back door. I let him out to the backyard and he stays by the glass to observe my guest. I find Cassandra on the porch waiting patiently and let her in. She enters my home with wide eyes.

“Wow, this is not what I expected” she remarks looking up like most people do when they enter my home. The skylights are a distinctive feature of the entryway, as is the conversation pit in my living room. People usually don't expect this to be my style. I bet Cassandra’s home is something straight out of architecture's digest. There’s nothing sterile or outwardly luxurious about my space with the exception of the space itself. The more eclectic decor style is in direct contrast to my occupation which is what I need to stay balanced.

“Coffee?” I ask walking into the kitchen only to hear Beau bark again. Cassandra jumps.

“That's a bear” she comments and I smile glancing at Beau who stands at attention ready for duty.

“Teddy bear” I laugh looking at him. “You’re scared and he can be a bit of a bully” I explain withholding that Beau knows i’ve been off my game and has been more protective than ever lately. Cassandra casts the dog another look before placing her briefcase down onto the island. “Is this my release?” I ask.

“No,” she scoffs. “This is your contract.” Cassandra smiles, throwing me for a loop.

“But … I quit” I remind her and she shrugs.

“Those big ears never listen” she scoffs mocking my outburst and I feel blood rush into my cheeks, she heard that too. I shouldn't laugh but I do remember my insult to the Bos- Terry. “Don’t hate me because I didn't know. Take it up with Terry and Joel. It was all a test. Usually at the director level there’s a lot of bullshit that gets thrown your way. Your testing had almost no gaps - except for one. Dealing with dominant figures or confrontational men. It was fine but then Terry was gonna keep you out of certain circuit line ups. Joel didn’t want that and pushed for you to have your cull clearances. Believe me I had no idea Lorence. The assholes made a bet. Joel had faith in you standing your ground. Terry didn’t. It wasn’t supposed to go as far as it did - You passed with flying colours” Cassandra says and I sit. My head spins as I try to replay her words in an effort to make sense of what the fuck just came out of her mouth.

I raise an angry and judgemental brow. “So they send you here?”

“You were never supposed to quit. You were supposed to just either cave or hold out. Holding out would’ve meant you get full clearance, caving would mean it was limited. Terry was trying to be antagonistic but I think he was expecting sparks at best not a bomb.” Cassandra smiles like the memory of my crash out is a five star film.

“So they just decided to play with my head?” I ask.

“No, no things went too far. Every Director gets tested before they can be trusted with a full mission. It's Terry being overly cautious. It’s important to him that his company’s leadership is capable. Joel saw an opportunity to get you on the spring circuit with him and proposed it to Terry after you declined the promotion from my understanding.” Cassandra says with an eye roll.

“It’s so idiotic I know it made sense to them” I swallow a bitter taste knowing exactly why there’s a glaring gap in my testing. The idea that Richmond is aware of it gives me an instant headache.

“Well, they threw money at you first and it didn't sway you. Money is the biggest barrier to loyalty in our field since we’re all for hire. Glory doesn't usually sway us women - we aren't as ego driven. Love/sex/attraction whatever has never swayed you so the prospect of rubbing elbows with elite men and becoming compromised was no worries either. Richmond was content moving forward after that but apparently barred you from a few locations because of the personality types. Joel advocated for you apparently there's a weakness in your testing there. Richmond agreed. You were just supposed to stand your ground or leave - I don't think he expected you to blow up on him or to get so angry. He didn't think you had it in you. They’re assholes” Cassandra remarks and Richmonds smug smirk as the elevator doors closed returns to me. The reverie makes sense now as the puzzle pieces click into place. It hadn't been amusement born out of cruelty - he was impressed. I find myself pacing as the truth of the matter comes to me and I think of Joel. I look at Cassandra who’s eyes show remorse.

“So the contract stands and I can keep my job?” I ask and she nods.

“Yes” she responds.

“Would it be wrong to call bullshit, he said I overestimated my importance-”

“He didn't expect you to quit AT ALL or the insubordination. I mean the shit you pulled” Cassandra smiles shaking her head. “ Too Good! I don't even go that far with him. I honestly think he likes you, because that restraint was TOTALLY unlike him" she remarks.

“Likes me? He can't stand me! If that was restraint the man needs a tranquilizer!” I snap and she giggles in agreement.

“The only reason I didn't meet you at the lobby was because he was smiling and told me to let you cool off. The smile threw me and I made him explain. All this time he thought you were scared of him.”

“I AM!” I shout. “He’s NUTS!” I add.

“When none of us could get a hold of you he asked me to do a housecall personally and I’m nobody's gopher. He likes you.” she insists.

“Then I don't know if I want to be liked,” I confess.

“Fair enough. You can take another week off if you want but please don’t quit. I want you around for the summer circuit - it’s too much of a sausage fest.” she says making a face and I feel like the contract in front of me is an answered prayer.

“What if I failed?” I ask, still thrown by lifes new reality.

“Like I said, the Boss was willing to keep you on in a more limited role. It was Joel who knew you wouldn’t just sit there and take it” Cassandra explains and I sigh deeply. It makes sense. Joel’s meddling and willingness to be a third party negotiator on my behalf, his pushing for me to join his ranks. No one else knows my story better to exploit it. He always said I was a great operative - I should have believed him.

“So when am I scheduled back?” I ask.

“You can start Monday if that works for you.”

“It does” I agree, resigned to make it work.

“See you Monday,” she smiles, closing her briefcase.

“See you then” I mutter walking her out. When her car pulls off I head to let Beau in. My nerves are shot but I manage to make breakfast. After a day of looking over the contract sporadically I sign my name across the dotted line. Lorence Cole.

…

“So, how are you gonna swing it on Monday?” my cousin Sincere asks as we sit enjoying cocktails. I’ve told her everything I know to be true about the past few weeks and she's as disturbed by the games at hand as I am.

“I don’t know - I’m still not so sure all of that argument was acting on his part” I confess taking a long sip.

“Me neither but I mean if he’s never yelled at you before then maybe he’s a great actor” she says making a point. I think back to most of our discussions in the past month or so and most of them have been with his tablet handy with my file. He’d been looking into me so it’s hardly a stretch to consider my greatest weakness was used against me.

“It just sucks that my boss has to know my biological mother let her asshole boyfriend verbally abuse me as a toddler and then picked him over being a mother to me” I confess. Sin holds my gaze. It’s not something I bring up, ever. My grandparents stepped in the moment they found out what was going on. My mother gave me up without a second thought. My grandparents legally adopted me at five and they’ve done everything humanly possible to make up for the two years my mom had subjected me to mistreatment.

“It is,” Sin agrees, shifting in her seat. “But you stood up for yourself” she smiles, holding a hand out for me and I nod. Overwhelmed by the past.

“I didn't realize those wounds were still so raw” I sigh looking into my glass. The older I get the more angry the situation makes me. Sure my mother was a young mom but there’s nothing I can conceive of that would ever justify how she treated me. When her boyfriend started coming around I was two and I had to become silent and fend for myself. He’d slap her for not ‘training me’ right and rant for what felt like hours. The more I cried the angrier he got. He'd have me stand in the corner for what felt like hours if I made too much noise or asked my mother for something. By four the cost of needing my mother was too high and she started spitting his rhetoric back at me. His cheating, his absence, his abuse was all my fault. That Christmas my entire family knew something was wrong when I didn’t say a word unless spoken to and couldn't maintain eye contact. When I arranged my christmas presents in a line and smiled at them silently from far away instead of playing with my cousins. They knew something was seriously wrong, four year olds don’t have that kind of restraint. But I was far from alone in this world. My grandfather was madder than anything I've ever witnessed when he heard my mother tell him I was trained right - like a dog. My aunties, great aunts, uncles and cousins rallied around me. I’d never put it together that the reason Richmond rattled me as much as he does was because of my childhood.

“Lo, you’re human, don’t be hard on yourself” she says, giving me a hug and I sigh. “There’s nothing wrong with you, at ALL. You're the cutest, smartest, nicest, smartest, sexiest, bravest, badass I know - there’s too much to love” she says and her kind words mean a lot to me.

“Don’t tell mom and dad - I don't want them to worry” I sign.

“Worrying is our job - we’re family,” Sincere says. Though she may be right I don't want anyone to worry more than they already do. So I put on a brave face and we celebrate my promotion and I brace for monday.

_________

Monday, HQ

No one spares me any second glances as I head in after my week long leave. It’s business as usual as I cross the floor and head to my office. I don't even make it there before my coworkers are asking me for assistance with their upcoming projects. When I sit down I find myself thankful for the discretion employed by Richmond. Knowing no one knows what transpired in Switzerland is a relief. I look out my window after signing in and see my inbox has imploded with emails in my absence. I spent the first half an hour of my day organizing what I can and delegating the rest. I’m due for a break when Joel knocks on my office door. He’s lucky we’re at work because if we were anywhere else I'd swing on him for the circus he created in Switzerland. I scowl instead and he raises his hands.

“I come in peace” he says before taking a seat.

“You're a real jerk, you know that?” I snap.

“You were gonna get benched from all the good stuff, now you get to see the world. Monaco’s Grand Prix is coming up” he shrugs without apology. “Besides Richmond was impressed, didn't think you had it in you - he didn’t want to push”

“So Richmond cares about my feelings more than you do I see?” I comment and Joel sits forward. Now I've gone too far.

“I told you a hundred times I’ll put that fool out of his misery quick and easy or slow and cruel for you.” Joel whispers repeating the open ended offer he holds for my moms ex-boyfriend.

“You’re not just my mentor Joel, you're my friend so you can't just put me in that headspace because you think I can take it” I explain sticking to the issue at hand.

“Was I wrong?” Joel asks and I sigh because he’s missing the point. “You’re non confrontational and I love that you're always considering alternatives and collateral. You can fight but it’s your last resort and you act like it. You aren't a small fish anymore Lo. People have to know when they swing you're swinging back. I mean if I’m around i’ll swing for you too but some aggression is your friend - you don't want anyone mistaking your passivity for weakness. It’s dangerous at this level.” he says, ever the mentor.

“It was still mean.” I tell him and he sighs, shaking his head at my sensitivity.

“I’ll make it up to you” Joel promises.

“Swear?”

“Swear it” he says and I nod, conceding this round. He gives me a hug. “Congratulations” he smiles before heading off to whatever he has going on. I’m in the middle of taking notes on one of my team's presentations when Richmond knocks on the door. The team shuffles smiling and muttering greetings as they scatter without being asked. That’s the kind of impact Richmond has. Unfortunately now I can no longer leave too. His expression is typical as he closes the glass door behind him. He’s dressed down today, the glasses and black cashmere sweater somehow make him look less intimidating. He smirks, taking a seat at the table my team was just occupying in my office.

“You don't have to apologize,” he says, breaking the silence as he slides a tablet my way. “Get to know your team more intimately for the next few weeks then make your picks for upcoming assignments wisely.” he instructs in the same level tone as always. I take the tablet and it unlocks showing me my options.

“Sir” I nod like I always do and he nods.

“Any issues, questions, comments or concerns can be directed to Jameson or myself” he explains.

“Okay” I nod, maintaining eye contact for the first time.

“Cassandra has placed your acceptance of this post in tomorrow's newsletter - so if you have any reservations now’s the time to object” he says.

“I’m fine” I tell him not wanting a do over of our last discussion. The playing field between us seems more level now that he knows what I’m made of.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yes” I nod and he swallows.

“I’m clear on what you think of me but my anger and management of this company isn't to indulge self-importance. I know how people think and I understand the risks of carelessness. Everyone here has signed up to do the job, not to be the casualty of poor preparation, exhaustion or laziness.” Richmond explains calmly.

“I know and I always put my best foot forward.” I tell him.

“That’s why we’ve never had an issue and we aren't likely to. I’m excellent at self-regulation” he says, making my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I swallow feeling put on the spot. He gets up without forcing me to sit in it. “But if you have any feedback Cole, It’s welcome my big ears are quite receptive” he adds leaving and I place my head in my hands cursing my big mouth.

authors note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the little plot-twist I put in there. Let me know if you saw it coming. Now that Lorence can no longer run from Mr. Richmond things should get ... interesting. Let me know your thoughts on this chapter. Is Lorence ever gonna live the big ears comment down? Reblog, Comment and Like.

006 ⇛

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre imagine #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron fics #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond imagine #terry richmond #terry richmond x you #rebel ridge fanfiction #rebel ridge

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saintslewis · 5 months ago

Text

forever yours: the series | 44

— series.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black oc, lindokuhle lee vilakazi

summary: work just never ends for lee, even during her down time but hey? more money and possibly more connections.

warnings for this chapter: cussing, outfit descriptions, social media.

saint’s team radio 🪽: first chapter! hope y’all enjoy 🤍

pls like, comment and reblog!

taglist down below!

dividers from @cafekitsune

ATLANTA, GA

The smell of hair straighteners burning through each bundle filled Lee with some sort of comfort, knowing she was going to walk out of this salon with a fresh do and a check on her maintenance to-do list.

It wasn’t that exciting of a race that she’d have to go to in a few days time. Austria. Not always the most fun of grand prixs but it fills a gap for the ever growing f1 calendar. She looked straight ahead at the mirror watching the hairstylist work her magic in the prestigious looking salon Lee had seen on instagram.

The stylists here were nosy, trying to be all up in people’s businesses including that of customers. Lee had no time to take no bullshit but she knew the lady was still working on her head, something she knew she couldn’t afford to mess up. Her phone became boring after some time even seeing a few messages from her assistant and her niece’s babysitter/ au pair.

“Hold up, hold up!” A voice yelled out in the salon with excitement in the tone. “Don’t I know you from somewhere, girl?”

Lee hoped and prayed that they weren’t talking to her. They couldn’t be. She wasn’t all that known except in the f1/sports community. “Yeah, you look real familiar, girl!” And in the corner of her eye, she saw another hairstylist plop down on the seat next to her with the biggest grin on her face. “Kya! Remember that girl I showed you with that fine ass man two weeks ago?” The lady shouted over to someone else.

Oh God. Lee immediately knew what this was about. It’s all anyone recognised her for the past few weeks. During the week of the Canadian Grand Prix, someone compiled a bunch of vids that included Lee and the sport’s greatest, Lewis Hamilton lookin cozy. First, it was the camera pointed to Lee during the race and of course she had to admit, her makeup looked good that day.

Then it was when a couple of fans saw them walking together through the paddock to their respective cars, laughing and a hug that lasted a little longer than usual and that had the internet going ballistic.

Forcing a smile, Lee gathered the energy to speak when the lady was done speaking. “Yeah! That’s her! That nigga looked rich, girl. That’s your man or what because if not, a sister could use a little lovin.” The woman laughed, causing a ripple effect in the salon, hairstylists and patrons alike.

To be messy or to not be messy? It’s not like she’s ever going to see these people ever again.

“We’re not a thing. He’s just a close friend but if you want, I’ll put in a good word for ya.” Lee spoke, already feeling the heat of the hot comb a little too close to her scalp through the wig cap.

The woman stared at her then smiled. “You a real one! And your accent is cute as hell.” She got up and left Lee’s side to her other friends and Lee sighed in relief. She’s been asked that very question one too many times in the past few weeks.

Sitting for another 30 minutes, Lee finally got up, paid and left the salon feeling all brand new. Of course she spared smiles and laughs with the hairstylists but she’s never wanted to get out of there quicker. The noise and heat was just overstimulating her senses. She still tipped though, you don’t get champagne at every hair salon.

“Yes, Santana?” Lee answered the phone, settling into her car seat of her rental. She’ll admit it, she did splurge on the rental but it’s not like she had anything to lose. Although the Maybach did fuel some unnecessary rumours.

“Lee, oh my goodness! I’ve been trying to reach you. Anyways, Lewis’ publicist and I were speaking and he’d like for you to speak in his segment for Drive to Survive in Austria. He arranged a whole thing.” Santana spoke through the phone, sounding like she was in the city.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she thought over of it for a second. “You know what? Sure. I know there’s gonna be a bit of a schedule change though for me, right?” Lee asked, fastening her seatbelt and connecting her phone to the car speaker so she could pull out of the parking space.

“Yeah, you’d be missing that SkySports segment with Danica about Red Bull and VCARB. So it’s all up to you-”

“Absolutely cancel that shit. I’ll speak to Lewis more about the deets but thank you, Santana. See you at the airport, yeah?” She turned into a drive thru of some fast food restaurant, she was too hungry to even focus.

The two wrapped up the convo and within 10 minutes, Lee got her food. Deciding to not eat in the car, she sped through to her airbnb and hopped out. Setting her phone on the kitchen island, she facetimed Lewis rather so she could eat.

“You still in Spain? I know those clouds from anywhere.” She joked once the call connected and she could see his confused face pop up on the screen. “Matter of fact, I’m in London but I’ll let you have that one.” Lewis smiled, finding a spot to sit down so he could have her whole attention.

“Listen, I’m hearing that you wanted me to speak with Netflix?” Lee unpacked her food order and laid it out in front of her.

He furrowed his eyebrows a bit before realising what she was talking about. “Oh um, yeah. Wanted to get through to you professionally and all that. Need someone on my side, y’know?” He cleared his throat, making his voice slightly raspy.

“My whole career is based around supporting you, Lewis. So I don’t mind, you know I got it. They want me to say some shit about your move to Ferrari?” Lee looked at the screen as she drank her soda.

Lewis nodded, his eyes slightly squinted under his cap. “I know it’s been a recurring topic but I just wanted someone who’ll be positive all the way through the segment.” He scratched his beard.

“Okay, no problem. I’ll talk to those directors then because they tried to talk to me earlier. You know I was supposed to work with Danicka before I heard of your thing?” Lee chuckled in disbelief, biting into a spoonful her grilled chicken bowl.

“You look good.” He spoke, smiling when he saw her being taken aback at his compliment. “Thank you? I got my hair done today, this is what Austria will see on their screens. But did you hear what I said?” Lee raised her eyebrow at the man.

Lewis chuckled before answering. “I heard, love but I don’t want to talk about her or any of them. Tell me, how are you getting to Austria?”

Pausing her hand on the spoon, she looked at him. “No, Lewis, I will not be flying with you. We’ve already got enough rumours as it is. Plus, I don’t wanna step on nobody’s toes.” Lee went back to stabbing through her food.

“Should I ask you again? I rather like the back and forth with you.” Lewis giggled, seeing her eyes dart to the screen once again. “Whatever you say, I’ll just smile and nod.”

She rolled her eyes. He was unbelievable. “Whatever you say, Mr Hamilton. I’ll see you in Austria next week.” Lee smiled, eating another spoonful of her food. He sighed and now it was his turn to roll his eyes at her stubbornness.

The two continued speaking on the Netflix interviews and how the directors would twist their words for the sake of good television. The conversation didn’t last too long because Lewis had other things to tend to whilst Lee would appreciate eating her lunch peacefully without him teasing her about looking like a chipmunk while she had food in her mouth.

RED BULL RING, AUSTRIA

Her heels were surprisingly comfortable for their first wear. The small chair that Netflix provided was a bit cold but luckily she didn’t have to be there for too long before she returned to SkySports to film something within the paddock.

The film crew assistant’s hands were shaking as he tried to mic Lee up. Because of how much time it took to get the mic strapped, some people got the nerve to walk up to her in her most peaceful time in the paddock.

“You know, I’ve always thought you looked super intimidating with your heels on! Like you’re a villain or something.” A loud, agitating voice with a side of clacking sandals invaded her personal space even more than the man strapping up the mic on her back.

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Lee gave Danicka a sharp look, one that said ‘shut up or you’ll get your ass beat’, and fixed the sleeves or her blazer. It didn’t take too long for everything to be set before beginning her solo segment on something the RedBulls were doing this weekend.

Damn, I need a shot. Or more money to motivate me

So focused on her inner thoughts while watching the playback video of her segment, she got knocked out of it by a tap on her shoulder. Once she felt the tap and it awoke her senses, she also heard the cheers and murmurs surrounding her. It could only be one person.

“Good morning, Lewis.” Lee said to her dear friend, who loved to do this surprising thing lately, as she stood up straight. The man was always in awe when he locked eyes with her. “Mornin’ Lee. I’ll see you later for our thing, yeah?” He smiled, his eyes probably crinkling behind his sunglasses.

“We have a thing?” Her eyebrows furrowed, her nose scrunching up a tiny bit before letting go. A little trait of hers that Lewis loves so much. “You need to check your emails more, sweetheart.” He winked, she just knew he did, behind the designer sunnies before walking away, tucking his hands back into his pockets.

What she could not explain was why her stomach did the thing when he winked. When she smelled his delicious cologne and surprisingly loving his Adam Sandler-esque tracksuit.

“Uh Lee? Are you okay?” The cameraman, Josh, stood up straight and asked his friend in concern. Snapping out of it, she looked at Josh. “Huh? Oh, yeah I’m good. Just fine.” She reassured him, looking back at the direction Lewis went, knowing very well that he left a while ago.

Josh then had a smirk on his face. “Right. What’d your boyfriend say?” He teased, feeling a smack on his arm a second later. “Don’t start with me, Josh. Don’t even think about it, yoh.” She warned, stepping back to the front of the camera to finish up her work.

saint’s notes 🧝🏽‍♀️: wellllll this is a small small introduction to the mini series and how their lil friendship goes! Lewis is a yearnerrrr in this one but that’s alright 🤭 hope you guys enjoyed!

🫧 tagslist: @mauvecherie-writes @chaneajoyyy @alika-4466 @queenshikongo3 @serpenttines @emjayewrites @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @vsfavs @motheroffae @h4vertzz @arshiyuh @henneseyhoe @cocobutterqwueen @gwenda-fav @httpsserene @peyiswriting @saturnville @purplelewlew @greedyjudge2 @sunfairyy @marvel-hotchner @boujiestpoet @f1-football-fiend @shhhchriss @jewel-diva44 @pickingupmymercedes @tian-monique

🫧 dividers: @cafekitsune

#saint writes #forever yours: the series #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x black!oc #f1 x oc #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

Text

Menace

prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.

"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"

You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"

"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."

"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.

"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"

"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"

He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".

The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.

The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.

Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.

Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.

When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."

"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.

"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"

"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."

Tan huffed.

"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.

"Sweetheart - "

"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."

Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.

"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Feel better?"

"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"

"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."

This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."

"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.

Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.

And boy, did it.

After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.

"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.

"Hmm?"

Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"

"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."

Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."

"I've been distracted."

"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"

"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.

This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."

Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "

"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."

"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"

Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."

"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."

"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,

wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.

He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,

if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙

That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.

Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"

"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "

"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."

"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,

meet me in the bathroom right now

Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.

He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"

They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"

He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"

He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."

"I still have work - "

"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."

"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"

"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.

"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"

"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"

"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.

He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."

You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.

"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.

It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.

But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.

It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.

The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.

"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.

"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "

"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."

He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."

"Wanna sit?"

"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"

"You get all worked up when I do."

"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."

You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"

"No - "

"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "

"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"

You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "

"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"

You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."

"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."

"Terrible philosophy."

"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.

You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.

"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."

"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"

You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.

"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"

"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"

Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."

His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."

"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"

"Yeah, but, now it's a game."

"You're a fucking menace!"

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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sayyestoheav3nn · 6 months ago

Text

Nights Like This: Part Three

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: language, angst

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: guys are we riding at dawn or not lmaoo??? if i forgot to tag you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list please feel free to lmk 💕

“Tell me what?”

Serena and Roman froze, which angered Zoe to another level, because it’s one thing to screw her over, but its another to play in her fucking face.

Roman turned towards Serena,“Give us some space…” His voice was stern, more of a demand than a request. Serena briefly looked at Zoe and sighed, she proceeded to grab her keys and walk outside.

“Where the fuck is she going, you both seemed to have a lot to say.” Zoe started walking towards the door to confront Serena, but as she was about to reach the door her movements were halted when Roman grabbed her by the waist gently pulling her back.

“Baby we need to talk, just you and me please…” he pleaded. Seconds later she heard a car engine start. This bitch really had the audacity to leave without saying a word.

“Oh so now you want to fucking talk? Because you damn sure didn’t have shit to say before I found the condoms,” Zoe sneered as she yanked her body away from him.

Roman paused and took a deep breath, slowly rubbing his hand over his beard, “Baby I fucked up, I’m sorry...”

“You’re sorry, is that really all you have to say?” Her voice cracked, she could feel her throat begin to tighten.

Roman felt like the biggest piece of shit. Seeing the exhaustion and pain in her eyes, hurt him. He hated to see her cry, let alone being the reason behind it. There was no excuse for what he did, and he knew it. Which is exactly why he didn’t want to tell her, but actions have consequences. He made his bed, it was time to fucking lie in it.

“Baby I—” As he began to speak Zoe cut him off, “Roman I’m gonna ask you this one time. Did you or did you not, cheat on me with Serena?”

Roman lowered his head, his gaze now shifted towards the floor. He paused in silence for a short moment, she could see his hands were slightly fidgeting. Roman briefly looked up at her, still avoiding making eye contact.

“Yes,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

Zoe’s heart felt like it was ripped out of her chest. She knew the answer, but she wanted him to have the balls to actually fucking say it. Tears that she had been fighting back started to roll down her face, sobs escaping her. “Fuck you, Roman.” She started to walk away, but was stopped when Roman walked in front of her stopping her in her tracks.

“Zo don’t leave, please just talk to me.”

“You’re such a piece of shit, I fucking trusted you. She wiped away some of her tears, which was of no use considering she couldn’t stop crying, “My best friend? Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve only met her a handful of times!” she yelled.

“I want you to tell me why, you wanted to talk, so fucking talk,” she hissed.

Roman’s eyes were glistened with tears, his shoulders were slumped as he inhaled a deep breath, “I—I came to her to help me plan our trip and your birthday dinner. I figured since I don't know shit when it comes to throwing parties, I’d hire someone who not only works in that profession, but someone who would know what you’d like.”

“Yeah it seems she ended up finding exactly what I liked,” she scoffed.

Roman put his head down, his voice getting lower, “I ended coming over at different times over the span of two months to approve some of the planning details. Little by little I noticed she was flirting more than usual, in the beginning I tried to ignore it, but over time I—I began to like the attention.”

Zoe felt sick to her stomach, she listened quietly while angrily wiping away her tears. She wanted to leave to avoid hearing this bullshit, but a part of her wanted to know why. Why would two people who claimed to love her, hurt her in the most disrespectful way possible.

Seeing Zoe silently crying made the pit of Roman’s stomach drop, he was disgusted with himself. How in the hell did he let something so stupid, jeopardize what he had? He loves Zoe, he couldn’t give two fucks about Serena. Yet, he let a moment of weakness ruin everything and hurt the one person he loved more than anyone.

He walked towards her, and gently lifted her face. “Baby, please look at me,” Zoe refused, and that fucking killed him.

“I don’t need all the details, just tell me what happened...” her lower lip was slightly trembling. She pushed him away, making sure to keep a distance between them.

“Before my last visit, I let my ego cloud my judgment. I went to the store, bought the condoms and headed over to her house.” Roman paused, he was internally struggling to say the rest, but he knew he had to, he owed her that. “We kissed, and she ended up giving me head.”

“Let me guess, you returned the favor?” Silence. Just as she expected. “Of course you did because you’re such a generous tribal chief, right?”

He took a deep breath, his chin dipping to his chest. “I went with the intention to fuck her Zo, I did. And I know that there’s no amount of apologies in the world that will change what I did, but I need you to know that I didn’t fuck her.”

“So you’re telling me the condom unwrapped itself?”

“I was going to fuck her baby, I was. But when the time came, I thought of you, and I just— I just couldn’t do that to you.”

Roman walked towards her, gently moving some of her hair out of her face, he wiped some of her tears away with his thumb. He felt a sharp pang of guilt seeing her so broken, the weight of what he did was fully sinking in his chest.

“Baby please look at me.”

She doesn’t know why she actually did, but she felt so numb as if nothing even really mattered anymore. She looked at his big brown eyes, eyes that she once viewed with love and admiration, she now saw with despair.

A few tears slipped down his face. “Zoe please understand that she means absolutely fucking nothing to me. I love you baby. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I lied to you, I’m sorry that I hurt you—”

“If it was me that did this to you, how would you feel?”

He sighed heavily, facing down. He couldn’t even say a word. What a fucking hypocrite.

“You knew all the bullshit that I went through with my ex, and you went and did this shit. I opened up to you, and you promised me you would never do what he did to me. I feel so fucking stupid to have actually believed you. The fact that you wouldn’t have told me shit had I not caught you makes me sick to my stomach. You want to know what I think Roman? I think you’re a fucking coward.”

Zoe grabbed her keys and headed towards the door. She didn’t care about leaving her things behind, that slut seemed to like her leftovers anyways.

“Zo, please don’t do this to me,” he pleaded. Every single emotion that she tried to hold in was released, she was crying uncontrollably. She ignored him and was able to get in her car.

“You did this to yourself. You don’t have to worry about me anymore Roman, you and Serena can go fuck yourselves.”

Zoe started driving home, but the farther she got the more her anger built. She pulled over at a store to park and try to compose herself, she was so mad her hands were trembling. The memory of Serena letting her cry on her shoulder while being the actual cause of her tears, and leaving without even trying to apologize made her even more pissed. Fuck this. She put her gps back on Serena’s address, enough is enough. The only thing on her mind right now, was beating this bitch’s ass.

#roman reigns #the tribal chief #otc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns fanfiction

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yamujiburo · 1 year ago

Note

Some of this might sound intentionally hostile in text and I apologize.

I'm saying this as an abuse survivor mind you - don't throw "abusive ships" under the bus so easily - at least, so long as they're not actually glamorizing the abuse. I lived that irl and I personally find someone overcoming it, slowly having enough of that bullshit and getting out over time, and the other person having to wipe their own butt for once after they've made the damn mess, very refreshing. Maybe that's not a ship in the traditional sense. It's no happily ever after bc it shouldn't be, but I find stories like mine shyed away from so often because even the portrayal gets considered a "canon ship". ... that's just how media works now, I guess? I very rarely See a fictional relationship not called a ship in literally any context now so that's the definition I'm running on.

I wish more people were willing to portray the hardships of finding acceptance outside of "whoever you can find will accept you" very much, and finding the better things after. I wish people weren't terrified out of portrayimg situations like mine.

Jessie.. is not a good person in canon. You expect me to believe she moved into to hanamusa seamlessly, without falling on her ass? I never see you talk about Jessie's abusive tendencies in canon. You never talk about the inherent meanness she needed to get over to get there. She's quite aml lot like my ex in canon, actually.

What do you mean you're going to just remove from the character that she is abusive to those around her. Jessie hits people. She takes her own junk out on others all the time. Do you even like the character then, are you actually invested in her growing, or are you just making an OC at this point?

Idk. Do you, boo. But you are posting about a character who, whether you like it or not, is canonically abusive. I just don't buy that dating Ash's mom alone fixed her. That isn't... How that works. It would be excellent if it did. Part of my love of hanamusa is that it signals Jessie's change - but she could have changed for anyone before now.

What makes Delia different? How is she specifically a turning point for Jessie? Because Jessie's flaws go well beyond just bossing people around.

I would love if my abuser had the same outcome as your Jessie. I adore your portayals of hanamusa, where she's still flawed but still strives to do better. That's all I ever wanted from my ex.

What the fuck got her there tho.

Anyways I've been watching a lot of Bojack Horseman lately -

I agree with you! I don't think abusive relationships (or any tough subject matter in general) should be shied away from in media. It can be powerful when executed well and written by folks who are equipped to tell those kinds of stories. I do think it's sad when people treat it as off limits. But the ask I got was definitely more about which ships I have where I actually like the relationship between the characters. I think the semantics of the word "ship" are kind of vague or rather, over time, got so specific to only mean "absolutely love together and want them as endgame" (for most people anyways). So that's usually what I take the word to mean when people ask me about it.

I can 100% appreciate how an abusive relationship is written and handled, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna ship an abuser with their victim (that falls into the glorifying you're talking about). Love Bojack Horseman! Big fan! I think the way they handled Bojack and Sarah Lynn was beautifully and tragically well written. But does that mean I ship Bojack and Sarah Lynn? Absolutely fucking not.

I've talked about Jessie's character plenty on this blog and the way she's handled in earlier seasons specifically. This is kind of a summary: If we look at it on surface level, yes we can say she was abusive. But I think it's important to acknowledge and take into account the medium, time period and culture. Slapstick and cartoon violence was HUGE in anime and animation in the 90s (and prior to that too). Characters were always cartoonishly slapping each other around with giant mallets, folding fans, etc. Looney Tunes style. These slapstick bits were always distinct from real abuse and hurt (for Pokémon, Jessiebelle comes to mind). Mean slapstick wasn't a character trait exclusive to Jessie either. We saw it in Misty, James, Meowth, characters of the day and pretty much any character who got mad. It was a visual shortcut to show anger.

This type of slapstick has since (thankfully) died out and it hasn't really been a part of the Pokémon franchise since the early 2000s. However, Jessie was a notably special case. One of my favorite fun facts about the Pokémon anime is that there was a point in the series where Megumi Hayashibara (Jessie/Musashi's seiyuu) told the writers that moving forward, she no longer wanted Jessie to be violent or to be shown hitting James or Meowth (source: her memoir "The Characters Taught Me Everything"). She thought it directly went against the vision Takeshi Shudo had for Jessie, James and Meowth, when he created them, which was that they are good natured villains. If you watch from DP and on, Jessie never lays a hand on either of them. I think it was a such a good move on Pokémon's part to change her character like that and I'm forever grateful that Hayashibara said something! Whenever I write Jessie now, I always keep that in mind. She's mean, shouty and stupid but would never genuinely hurt those she cares about.

From then, her character becomes much more bearable. She's still bossy, mean and vain (typical cartoon villainess attributes) but I'd hesitate to say abusive. She'll still yell at James and Meowth, they all yell at each other, but in more of a sibling way (imo) rather than a "i'm actively trying to hurt your feelings way". The show makes a point especially in later seasons to show that Jessie, James and Meowth are not beyond being redeemed. From conception the whole POINT of the Team Rocket trio was that they are redeemable but their persistence and obsession keeps getting in the way of them seeing that there's a better life for them out there.

I won't deny that Jessie was unsavory in earlier seasons, but when I write her, I choose to write the version that Takeshi Shudo and Megumi Hayashibara had envisioned from the get go. She's still incredibly flawed and makes plenty missteps but wants to be better as you stated! My favorite part about Jessie is that she's a piece of shit LOL and I enjoy writing the changes she goes through to be better (but then still showing her default so some of her evil tendencies). In this AU, Delia doesn't fix Jessie. Jessie fixes Jessie because she is with someone makes her want to be a better person. She's already in the middle of turning over a new leaf before even meeting Delia, after leaving Team Rocket. Writing Jessie as legitimately abusive I think could work, but that's not my story to tell and if someone who were more equipped to tell that story did, I'd be very interested to take a listen!

I hope this doesn't come off as trying to deny or invalidate your experience. If you see that in Jessie, I hear you! This is just how I've interpreted her character over the years, having watched every episode of Pokémon and reading Japanese interviews from the cast and crew. She's such a compelling character and I love how messy she is

#ask yam #long post #tw abuse

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 2 years ago

Text

The Danger Zone (Part 4) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.5k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Jake tries to talk to you, if only your family would stop getting in the way.

Series Master List

Master List

One Hour Earlier

Jake closed the door to his truck and walked up to Coyote and Phoenix’s house. They bought it during the preparations for the wedding, which definitely added to their stress level at the time, but it was nice to come home to a house that was all theirs after their honeymoon. And now Jake was reporting for painting duty. He let himself in through the side door and spotted Javy in the kitchen, putting away some random things.

“Where’s Phoenix?” Jake asked, setting his keys and wallet on the countertop.

“She went to her parent’s house for the weekend to grab some stuff and help out a bit.”

“And you promised to get a whole bunch of shit done while she was gone?” Jake guessed, gesturing to the empty boxes and random tools and materials all over the place.

“And you’re going to help me with all of that shit,” Javy replied, patting Jake on the arm. “Come on, let’s start painting.”

They walked into the spare bedroom and started cleaning out all of the shit that was shoved in there. Setting up the sheets on the ground, Javy glanced over at where Jake was pouring the paint into the tray.

“So, what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much,” Jake replied, turning back to the wall. “Just the same old shit.”

Javy nodded and stood up, fixing Jake with a knowing gaze. Javy and Jake had been best friends since the Academy and Javy liked to think that he knew Jake more than well enough to know when something was up with him. Good or bad. And Javy was very much aware that Jake wasn’t himself.

“How’s everything going with your relationship?”

“It’s over,” Jake replied simply. “And it wasn’t even a relationship.”

“What happened?”

Jake shot Javy a look, but Javy shot him one right back. Jake could play the whole nonchalant bullshit with everyone else, but Javy would call him out on it when he felt it was needed. And after seeing the change in Jake’s demeanor after whatever he wanted to call your relationship ended, Javy knew that he needed to call him out.

Jake picked up a roller and started to paint the wall in straight, even lines. Javy did the same, though he was still feeling out Jake at that moment. He usually just had to give Jake a little bit of time to think over it on his own before following up.

“And you’re okay?”

“No, but nothing I can do about it now,” Jake replied, a bit tensely.

“Did she block you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jake mumbled, running the roller through the paint again. “She’s been reaching out to me, but I haven’t responded.”

“Because?” Javy stressed, earning a sigh from Jake in return.

“Because what’s the point? It was never going to go public. She’d never stand up to her family about it. And we just didn’t work anymore.”

“Didn’t work with what?”

“We weren’t on the same page.”

“About?”

“For fuck‘s sake, Javy.” Jake set down the paint roller and turned to Javy, who remained calm and eyed Jake with a knowing expression. “She was acting weird before the wedding and at the reception she just blew me off, so what was even the point of all of it? It was just a waste of time for both of us.”

“Or did she hurt your feelings and you wanted to push her away to protect yourself?” Javy asked, setting down his own paint roller.

“You’re not my therapist, Javy,” Jake muttered, looking away from his best friend.

“I know I’m not. But I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you made the right choice when you look as miserable as you do.” Jake sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, causing Javy to soften a bit. “Jake, you were really happy when you were with her. And maybe you two grew apart and maybe you want different things in life and maybe I should just mind my own business. But just talk to her. At least figure out why she was avoiding you in the first place.”

“It was probably something with her brother or Mav,” Jake huffed, picking his head up more. “Or, hey, maybe she found a new fuckbuddy.”

“You don’t know any of that. And she’s not the type to play shit like that and you know it, Jake.” Coyote paused for a moment before adding, “Hell, maybe it was something with work or she’s dealing with some other issue and she wanted to figure it out first before telling you about it.”

“I just don’t know what would cause such a sudden change in her. I mean one minute she was fine and the next she just shut down.”

“You know how you’re going to find out?”

“How?”

“Talk to her,” Javy emphasized.

“I liked you better before you got together with Phoenix,” Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re acting all wise now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Javy muttered, waving Jake off. “Now, be an adult and go talk to her. And, hey, maybe in a year, I’ll be your best man at your wedding.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Jake sighed, getting to his feet. “And I’m holding you to it, Javy. If it’s a shitshow, you told me to start shit.”

“Get out already.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

Jake grabbed his keys and wallet and headed down to his truck. Sliding in, Jake thought about how to proceed before just deciding to drive over to your apartment. If the two of you were actually going to have the conversation, he wanted it to be in person. And well she was also a little worried he would lose his confidence if he gave it too long to linger.

Parking in the lot, Jake spotted your car and made his way up the stairs to your apartment. He, however, didn’t recognize Emma’s car parked in the lot too. Stopping in front of your door, Jake knocked lightly and took a step back. He knew that you had a viewport and could see that it was him. Whether or not you opened the door was your choice.

The door opened a few moments later and Jake was rather quietly surprised at how shocked you looked when you spotted him. Why hadn’t you looked through the viewport before answering the door like you always did?

“Jake,” you breathed out nervously.

“Hey,” he replied softly, unable to prevent himself from frowning a bit at your reaction.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk about . . . everything.” Jake paused, mulling over his words before asking, “Is this a bad time?”

“Um. . . yeah, kind of,” you responded, wincing. “My brother’s here. And Mav is on his way over here right now.”

Jake’s eyes widened a fraction but before the curse could slip from between his lips, Rooster walked around the corner.

“What’s taking so long, old—Hangman?” Bradley corrected himself, very openly frowning when he spotted his teammate in the hall. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, he’s just here to pick something up,” you lied, turning to face your brother.

“Pick up what?”

“Uh, his . . . sweatshirt,” you decided, gesturing for Jake to come inside. “He let me borrow it at the beach when Coyote and Phoenix had their thing and it got cold.”

“And he just dropped by?” Bradley asked, staring after you as you hurried to your bedroom to grab it before shooting Jake a look. “Without your permission?”

“I told him that I was going to be here,” you snapped back defensively. “It’ll be two seconds. Calm your tits.”

Hurrying into your room, you started to dig around your closet for Jake’s sweatshirt that he gave you several months ago right before he went on deployment. You wore it on multiple occasions and by now Jake’s scent had long ago disappeared from the fabric. Meanwhile, out in your living room, Jake and Bradley were in the middle of a staring contest.

“So, you were just in the neighborhood?” Rooster asked suspiciously.

“I do live in this town too, Rooster,” Jake reminded him, causing Rooster to narrow his eyes a bit.

“So,” Emma cut in, trying to control the tension, “how have you been, Hangman?”

“Peachy.”

“Here you go, Jake,” you called, hurrying over and shoving the sweatshirt into his hands before urging him towards the door. “Well, thanks for giving it to me. For that day.”

When you were only two steps away from the door, there was a sharp knock. Cursing under your breath, you glanced at Jake to see that he looked like he was readily planning to climb out the window, before turning to the door. Letting out a breath, you opened the door to reveal Maverick and Penny standing there.

“Hey, Mav, Penny,” you greeted them, trying to act normally.

“Hangman?” Maverick asked, confused.

“Maverick,” Jake returned, his face impassive though he was sweating nervously.

“He was just grabbing something,” you cut in, talking just a little too fast. Maverick looked over at you, raising his eyebrow just a bit. “And he’s leaving right now. So, uh, bye Hangman.”

“Yeah, uh, see you around.”

Jake moved past you and he was about to walk past Maverick when the older aviator stopped him from his escape.

“Where are you going, Hangman?”

“Just heading home, that’s all,” Jake stated, turning to Maverick. Scrunching up the sweatshirt you gave him, he held it up. “I’ve got some laundry to do.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner,” Maverick offered, causing you to shake your head slightly. “And cake too, if you want. You saved my life, so it’s the least I can offer you.”

“I think he said he already has plans, Mav,” you tried to butt in.

“I’m sure the laundry can wait,” Maverick insisted kindly, though with an edge of force.

Jake shot you a slightly nervous look, to which you tried to discreetly shake your head. Penny seemed to be eyeing the exchange curiously, though you knew she sensed Maverick’s tone. You sent Jake a look to get out while he could. But then bigmouth Bradley came around the corner and decided to butt in.

“Yeah, I’m sure we can find something to talk about,” Bradley stated, leaning on the wall with his arms folded in front of him.

And Jake, sensing his rapidly approaching defeat, started to surrender.

“I don’t want to intrude—”

“—You're not,” Maverick interjected before gesturing inside your apartment. “Come on, I’m sure the food’s getting cold.”

You stood stone faced by the door as Bradley, Maverick, and Penny walked further into your apartment. Sharing a defeated look with Jake, who pulled up the rear, you shut the door and tried to calm yourself down before you turned on your heel and headed towards the table.

You found yourself sitting with Maverick on your right at the head of the table, Jake to your left looking uncomfortable as hell, and Bradley across from you with a sharp glare directed at Jake. You shared a look with Emma, who returned an apologetic grimace. Staring at the glass of wine in front of you, you simply ducked your head and stared at your plate.

“So, what caused the sudden change in location?” Maverick asked curiously.

“There was a minor problem at your place,” you replied, staring down at your plate.

“We set the oven on fire,” Bradley filled in, causing you to kick him under the table. Bradley shot you a look before turning to Maverick. “And then she threw up again and we just decided to get out of there.”

Again?

Jake glanced over at you from the corner of his eye, concern clear in his gaze. You didn’t look severely ill. Maybe a bit flushed, but not ill. So what caused you to throw up so often? And how did you just seem to bounce back if you were so sick and throwing up?

“How did the fire happen?” Maverick asked calmly, used to the back and forth between you and Bradley.

“I accidentally set the timer for too long,” Emma cut in, trying to take some heat off of you. “I walked off and it boiled over and burned.”

“Not a problem. That oven was ancient anyways,” Maverick dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I barely used it as it was.”

The family conversation continued on with an occasional pointed comment directed at Jake from Bradley, but it wasn’t too much. You seemed to be well-versed in how to deflect your brother’s questions and comments. It almost made Jake wonder why you were so cautious about him being anywhere near Rooster or Maverick with him.

“Anyone want a refill?” Penny offered, getting up from her seat.

There were a few mumbles around the table, but when Jake glanced over at your wine glass, he was a bit more than just surprised that it looked like you hadn’t touched it. Not that you had to drink the wine. But why didn’t you?

“So, Hangman,” Rooster cut in, causing Jake to turn away from you, “did you spend a lot of time together? Planning Coyote and Phoenix’s wedding and all, I mean?”

“Yeah, so what?” you snapped in Jake’s defense. “I spent a lot of time with Emma’s brother for your wedding, Bradley.”

“It was just a question,” Bradley scoffed in return.

“This is a great meal, Emma,” Penny announced louder than she needed to speak. “What restaurant did you get it from?”

“Ferrucci's down the road from here,” Emma answered, talking loud as well. “It’s really good. We should go there more often.”

“How was the wedding in your end, Hangman?” Maverick continued, getting the conversation back on track despite Emma and Penny’s attempt. “I feel like you were quite busy.”

“Yeah, I was,” Jake replied honestly.

“We didn’t see you at the after party,” Bradley added, earning a nudge from his wife.

“I was feeling under the weather. Just tired from everything,” Jake stated, staring down Bradley, not at all afraid of him.

He was slightly terrified of Maverick. But Bradley? Not even a little bit.

“Funny. That’s exactly what someone else said that night,” Bradley replied, turning to look at you. To which, you narrowed your eyes and shot your brother a warning look back. “What a weird coincidence.”

“Bradley,” you hissed, placing your hands on the table, “if you want to ask a question, just ask it. Stop being weird about it.”

“Should we cut the cake?” Emma interjected, trying to prevent a fight.

“I think we should,” Penny agreed, getting up from her seat. She called your name, causing you to look away from Bradley. “You made the cake, so you get to set up the candles and everything. Come on.”

With one last look over at your brother, you got up from your seat and walked into the kitchen with Penny and Emma. And that left Jake at the mercy of both Bradley and Maverick. Once the three of you were out of earshot, Bradley turned to Jake with a dark look.

“Are you messing around with my sister, Bagman? Because I swear to—”

“—I’m not,” Jake muttered, glaring over at Rooster. Anymore, at least. “Is that good enough of an answer for you?”

Rooster glared right back at Jake, practically screaming that no, it wasn’t good enough for him. Even though they had come a long way since the mission, it was near impossible to just get rid of years of resentment and tension in a moment. And anyone who knew Rooster well enough knew that messing around with his little sister was a sure fire way to be at high risk for getting a fist to the face.

“Bradley,” Maverick cut in, causing Jake and Bradley to turn to him, “drop it. Your sister is old enough to take care of herself.”

Maverick and Bradley had their own staring contest for a moment until Jake excused himself from the table, needing to cool down for a second. Walking down the hall and into the bathroom, Jake shut the door and let out a breath. Running a hand down his face, he sat on the toilet cover and stared at his hands.

“What the fuck did you get yourself into, Jake?” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re a real big fucking idiot, you know that?”

Sighing again, Jake got to his feet and turned to walk out of the bathroom when he accidentally kicked the small trash can over. Cursing under his breath, Jake kneeled down and hurried to clean up the mess. Picking up a plastic wrapper, Jake was about to toss it back into the trash when he caught some of the text on it. Frowning, Jake smoothed out the wrapper to read it.

And he nearly passed out when he read the plastic cover.

Prenatal Vitamins

Well, that sealed the deal. Especially when he thought about Rooster’s comment about how you were throwing up all the time lately. And then he remembered the full wine glass in front of you at dinner. And well, three coincidences didn’t seem that likely. And he couldn’t exactly say that the two of you were extremely careful every time with any sort of conviction.

Jake sat there and just stared at the plastic wrap, his whole world just exploding in front of him.

Meanwhile, out in the kitchen and slightly hidden behind a half wall, you were holding your hands to your face, trying to remain calm while Emma placed the candles on the cake and Penny gave you a supportive squeeze.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” Penny whispered to you, urging Emma to hurry up with the candles. “We’re just going to eat cake and Jake will leave and it’ll all be fine.”

“Why the fuck is he here? Of all fucking days,” you cursed, letting out a breath. “And I’m going to fucking kill my brother if he keeps asking stupid questions.”

“Just hold onto those thoughts for now. Focus on getting through this dinner, okay?” Penny coached you, giving you another squeeze. “You’ll be fine. You will get through this. But it is a good reminder about some conversations that you need to have, okay?”

“I know, it’s just,” you sighed, feeling a wave of nausea hit you, “they’re all going to freak out. I know it.”

“You can’t control them. Only you. And you are holding way too much on your shoulders right now. You need to tell them. Or at least one of them,” Penny whispered, causing you to nod in return.

“I know. I’m already starting to show,” you mumbled, resting a hand on your abdomen. Letting out another breath, you turned back to Penny, “Let’s just get this party over with.”

You, Emma, and Penny walked out of the kitchen with the cake and candles all set up. Singing the birthday tune for Maverick, you sat back down in your seat. You were a bit surprised that Jake wasn’t there but he seemed to slowly make his way out of the bathroom and back to the table as the song wrapped up. You laughed and clapped with everyone else as Maverick blew out the candles, though you felt Jake’s gaze burn into your back.

“Thank you, thank you,” Maverick chuckled, waving the smoke away. “We’ll, what are we waiting for? Let’s eat cake.”

“I should go,” Jake suddenly spoke, causing everyone to turn to him. He seemed to stumble over his words for a moment before adding, “Coyote texted me. I guess there’s some problem at the house.”

“Well, we don’t want to keep you if you need to go,” Penny stated, knowing that it was best to reduce the tension in the air.

Jake bid his awkward goodbyes, almost acting like he was a puppet being controlled by some higher power before he left. He didn’t or couldn’t look you in the eye about it. Feeling a bit taken aback by his sudden change, you whipped around to shoot Bradley a death glare.

“What the hell did you say to him?” you demanded, causing Bradley to scoff.

“Nothing. Why do you even care anyways?”

“It’s my apartment. If you want to pick fights with people, do it at your place, not mine,” you deflected, causing Bradley to roll his eyes.

“Don’t mess around with him. I’m serious,” your brother warned you.

“And we’re cutting the cake!” Emma interjected, walking over with small plates.

The conversation was effectively over for now, but you still couldn’t help but let your mind wander. What the hell did Bradley say to Jake to freak him out like that?

Tags (PRETTY PLEASE have your AGE on your blog or message me about it to be tagged--thank you!):

[If I missed you, don’t feel bad about asking to be tagged again! But please make sure that your age is in your bio/comment/etc. Thanks!]

@mrsjobarnes @wishiwasacasualfan @bethabear12 @everythingmarveltopgun @hardballoonlove @mavrellover91 @fangirlvoice @senjoritanana @sophslastbraincell @xoxabbs88xox @emma8895eb @dempy @harperdoodle @itsmytimetoodream @sarahjoestewy-blog @the-annoying-fan @athenabarnes @midnightmagpiemama @praline357 @sucker4seresin @sunsetsimpsblog @sgt-barnesveins @abaker74 @shanimallina87 @mayhemmanaged @kellyIs04 @trickphotography2 @kmc1989 @boiolay @offical-potato @topgun-imagines @caitsymichelle13 @daddymack01 @hangmandruigandmav @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @lilylilyyyyyy @lillunna @bcon24 @sky0401 @ashcosmo @blackwidownat2814 @specialagentjackbauer

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presleyslilbaby · 2 months ago

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~Sweet As Pie~ ~Chapter 1~

(70's!Elvis X OC)

{Thanks to @atleastpleasetelephone for helping me with chapter!}

"You...Bumped into Elvis Presley, and he said that your name was beautiful...?" Joanne, Gianna's older Sister had questioned skeptically. "Yes...! It was so amazing! He was so gorgeous in person, a-a-and he held me so gently, I-" Gianna was frantic, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she recounted her meeting with Elvis. But of course-

"You have to stop lying." Scoffed Joanne. The smile fell from Gianna's lips, staring at her older Sister with confusion and growing frustration. "But I'm not lying, Jo..." She murmured. "You expect me to really believe you ran into a Guy like him? Come on. Be real, Gianna. Get your head out of the clouds."

That hurt her more than her older Sister could ever know, her heart hurting, and her blood boiling. Instead of arguing further, she stomped back to her bedroom, locking the door behind her as she stood in silence for a moment.

Why would she lie? What would she even gain from lying in the first place? There'd be no point...

She snapped.

With a loud, frustrated groan, she picked up an empty box and threw it at the wall so hard she practically pulled a muscle in her arm. She heaved, moving over to the box and stomping it over and over again, unable to control herself. Eventually as Gianna tired out, she slowly sat down on her mattress, placing her head in her hands. She had anger issues. Her older Sisters always complained that she was just a brat or a spoiled, moody teenager, but that just wasn't true. She simply didn't know how to handle her emotions. She had been just fine as a kid growing up, but now she wasn't exactly normal. The doctors didn't help either.

But he did. Elvis made her feel better, his music. It made her feel at peace, as if she was better again. But she wasn't...

"Get your shit together, Gianna..." She muttered to herself, rubbing her face tiredly. "You have more chores to do today. You can't just get distracted by stupid bullshit like that so easily." It wasn’t that easy for her, however. She had a once-in-a-lifetime experience meeting the Elvis Presley, and her own sister didn’t believe her.

Day after day, the tension between Gianna and her sisters heightened, driven by the frustration she felt for being brushed off so easily by her own siblings. It pissed her off. And so, she finally decided to go to her Mother with her feelings.

"Mamma...?" She softly called as she entered the kitchen, watching as Marie did the dishes. "Can I talk to you about Sophia and Joanne...?" She wondered, leaning against the counter with a thoughtful expression.

"Of course, Hon." Marie replied.

"A couple days ago, I ran into Elvis, and I told Joanne about it because- It's flipping Elvis Presley, you know?"

"Mhm."

"Well, I told her about it, and she insisted that I was lying."

"Mm."

"Then she told Sophia that I was lying about it, and now they won't stop talking about me to their friends. I-"

"I'll have a talk with them later tonight, okay? I have to wash the dishes and make your Dad his lunch for work. Can you go take out the trash?" Her mother interrupted, brushing her off slightly. Like usual.

With a defeated huff, Gianna walked away, taking out the trash just as was asked of her. What more was she expecting?

The next day, she had woken up rather early, just as the sun rose - she had to, although she wished she didn't as she wasn't a morning person. But the difference today was that she was actually going somewhere. Getting up and out of bed, she headed into the bathroom to start her morning routine before sitting herself down at her vanity, doing her hair and makeup as well as she could, then picking out the perfect dress with the perfect pair of kitten heels to match. She was going someplace special. Grabbing her purse that contained pretty much nothing other than bits and bobs, Gianna wrote a little note for her parents to find explaining her absence. And then, she headed out of the front door. Several minutes of walking through the streets of Memphis awarded her with the sight of Graceland's gates, as well as the incessant squirming of her belly. The closer she drew to the crowded gates and the rare sight of Elvis awake in the early morning, the more she wanted to run away. What was Elvis doing awake so early? She hadn’t really expected him at the gates, although she admittedly hoped to see him on her way. But she stood her ground, and continued forwards. Until she stood in the back of the crowd for at least twenty seconds. Deciding that she was far too nervous and anxiety-ridden, she turned around and began walking away.

"Gianna, was it?" Elvis spoke, having noticed her in the back.

Everyone turned to stare at Gianna, her face flushing a bright raspberry red as she felt the pressure of everyone's gaze weighing her down. The stares were of shock, jealousy.

"U-Uhm...Y-Yes, Sir..." She managed to squeak out quietly, watching as a smile rose to his gorgeous face. Son of a bitch, he was so beautiful…

"Didn't I tell ya' to drop the 'Sir' last we spoke?" He teased good-naturedly.

"O-Oh...Uhm...Y-Yeah...Sorry..." She softly apologised, her own bashful smile tugging at her Red lips. Was her lipstick too bright for this occasion…? No… Yes…? No. Definitely no… Maybe.

"No worries. Ladies? Can you step aside for Miss Gianna here?"

Wait...What...?

Watching the other Girls part for her, she simply stared in amazement, unsure of how to react. What was going on...? Was she dreaming…?

"Well? Come on in, Honey." He said, gesturing towards Graceland with a flourish of his hand.

What was she supposed to do...? This was all just so very sudden...

Gianna had no choice but to take hesitant steps forward, her legs feeling as if they were shaking, turning to gelatin. But she pressed forwards regardless. Slipping behind the gates, her heart beat faster in her chest as she stood right next to Elvis himself. Her mind raced with thoughts, with questions that she couldn't answer herself. She watched as he bid the other girls a temporary farewell, before he began to lead her away towards Graceland's doors. What did he want with her? Why did he take to her so quickly? What was so special about her? Why would he like her if she was-

"You okay? You're breathin' rather quickly." He worried over her, a gentle crease of concern in his eyebrows as he looked down at her.

She was so busy thinking about why he was doing the things that had been doing that she didn't even realise that she was panicking.

"Here, let's go sit down, Baby." Elvis had begun to lead her inside, quickly guiding her over to a nearby chair and pulling it out for her to take a seat. "Deep breaths, Gianna...You okay? What's the matter?" He softly cooed, bending down to crouch in front of her, resting a hand on her knee.

"I-I-...I'm sorry...This is so embarrassing..." She muttered, taking her glasses off to gently wipe at her eyes, ensuring that she didn't mess up her makeup in the process. She spent way too long on it for it to be messed up that easily by a couple of stupid ass tears.

"No, no...Is this just too sudden for you? Is that what's going on...?" He asked, reaching a hand up himself to begin caressing her cheek soothingly. Gianna nodded softly, trying so hard not to cry her eyes out due to her anxiety. "Hey, hey, hey...Shhh...Don't cry, Sweetheart. It's okay, you just take all the time you need, yeah?"

"I'm so sorry..." "Don't be. It ain't your fault, you just got a little overwhelmed, that's all. Do you need a drink?" He offered. After all, it was just the right thing to do as a host.

"N-No...I...I'll be okay..."

Taking a deep breath in, she tried her hardest to collect herself for him, to rid herself of the burning hot embarrassment she felt due to her own lack of confidence. Slowly, she exhaled the breath, taking her time to control her emotions before she was finally okay again. "Do you feel better now?" Elvis wondered, still caressing her cheek oh-so-tenderly. "Y-Yeah...Yeah, I- I think so..." She replied, taking one more breath in before sliding her glasses back on. Did they make her look nerdy…? She hoped not.

"Good. Good. I don't want you feeling wrong in any type o' way." Taking her hand in his much larger one, he helped her up from the chair, keeping his touch as gentle as his voice was. He really was as nice as they said.

"Thank you, Mr-" Gianna paused, stopping herself from regarding Elvis with his last name, taking a few awkward seconds before continuing. "-...Elvis...Thank you for uh...Bringing me in...But uhm...Why...?" She finally asked, following alongside him. She wasn’t sure what to think.

"Why did I let you in? Well, I'd like to get to know you better." He simply replied, a gentle smile tugging at his perfectly pouty lips. She could see the interest in his eyes, yet she chose to ignore it, to pass it off as something else.

"...Why would you want to know me...?" She added on in genuine confusion. She wasn't that interesting or anything… ‘What is there to like?’ She thought to herself. Was it self-deprecating? She didn’t know.

"You interest me."

Okay, so maybe she was to him.

"You're very shy. I like that about you, it's adorable. And besides, you're a beautiful young woman." He complimented her softly, speaking his honest thoughts to her.

"B-Beautiful...?" She parroted rather softly, her hands instinctively moving to cover her stomach. It was hard for her– To see herself how others did. After all, all she heard from school before she was pulled out were terrible comments.

"Of course. Why, don’t ya’ think you're beautiful?" He had glanced down at her, raising a thick, dark eyebrow. She doesn't respond, causing a frown to replace his smile. "Gianna, how could you sit there and lie to yourself by implyin' you ain't a pretty li'l thing? Gimme those." He started, giving a soft huff as he reached out toward her.

Suddenly, Elvis pulled her glasses right off her face, cleaning the lenses with the hem of his shirt before setting them back on her face. He’ll be damned if he let her get away with this train of thought.

"There. Can you see it now?" He asked, voice remaining smooth and gentle.

Gianna furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "See what...?" She cocked her head to the side, rather lost on what he was trying to tell her.

"How beautiful you are."

Goddamnit, that made her so very flustered.

"I-I uh...Uhm…" She stammered, unsure whether or not to please him or to tell the truth.

"'Yes' answers only, Sweetheart." He spoke, narrowing his blue eyes at her. It baffled him to know that she wanted to reject the notion that she was beautiful.

She couldn't help the soft little giggle that escaped her throat, her cheeks flushing darker if possible. God, she couldn’t believe she was talking to him…

Unable to keep up his playful glare, Elvis let out a chuckle himself, patting her arm gently. "That's what I thought. Now, are you sure you don't want anything to drink?" He wondered, wanting to be a good host to her.

"I'm sure. Thank you for offering, though..." She politely declined, something that she was used to doing.

"Of course. Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?" He took her hand in his own once again, guiding her down to sit beside him on the luxurious sofa beside him. He was simply just curious about her, about what she was about. Not only that, but she was rather cute.

"Well I'm uhm...I'm eighteen, and I have two older sisters...Uhm...I...Love animals and nature, uh..." Gianna paused, trying to collect her thoughts in a proper manner, although it was a bit too hard for her to figure out what to say, so she did the only thing she knew how to do well. "I'm sorry, I-I'm not that good with talking about myself." She apologised. Poor, unfortunate Gianna had to apolosise for her terrible way of explaining things.

"No no, you're fine, Darlin'. Take your time." He encouraged her gently, lifting one leg to cross casually over the other. "O-Okay...Uhm...M-My favourite colour is uh...Purple...And uh..."

This was going to take a while...

#elvis presley #70s elvis #elvisaaronpresley #elvis fandom #elvis photos #elvis x oc #elvis fic #elvis the king #elvis imagine #elvis fluff #elvis fans #angst

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pollux-starsz · 3 months ago

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introduced my mama to @wyervan's slasher au, guess what

Shes insane for it just as i am (we're so swag) and EEEESSSHHH she is crushing on sun!!! Adores your art sososo much, said she eat it if it were cookies!!

Check the au out!!💗💓 stuff under the cut :3

Was doing a lot of whiteboarding lately! A ton of Kalamela stuff and whatnot, i love her sosos much.

Plus a fun art I did with @su-gu3 with their Slasher OC, Kilonova! I drew the two hanging out together and we're friends so we obviously had to make them be besties😆 they're hanging out while Kilonova crushes over Sun :3c

Yes I did have a vision of the slashy boys fighting over who gets the first dance, more on that below the art😋

Before the dance stuff, the last art piece is actually a much more like- i guess lore like piece hdodndod

The masks that Sun and Moon use plus the blood represents the killings. The heart represents Ethan, because she deep down adores that child.

(Even if she struggles to show it sometimes)

I have a feeewww other versions but they're not finished yet💔😅

Okay dance time! So Crystal Cove holds this little event every few months to raise money for charity ( the owners being a cute old couple aaugghhhh <3)

And Kalamela and basically all the other staff normally work that night to avoid any issues and also to raise support as well. She often doesn't dress up since she doesn't feel like it, that and also theres a few customers who are creeps- im actually writing about that and purposely making her beat their asses- and tries to just avoid the overall commotion and craziness! But the boys wont take no for an answer because she always spoils them so why not give her a night to have some fun eh?

More rambles below :3c

- I was thinking about this a lot but I think at some point she'd have to ask if Sun and Moon could let Ethan stay with them so he won't be witnessing a bunch of bullshit from his father, who sometimes comes over to her place just to start problems. I like to imagine she'll call them at least 30 minutes before he arrives and drives him over to their place to stay for a few hours until things calm down because she knows they'll take care of him!

- Kalamela isn't the type for romance movies, unless it's the Titanic, but I dont even know if that would be out in the very specific year the au takes place in considering it was released in 1997!! Either way😙 She often prefers horror movies and I think she'd really enjoy watching them with Sun, maybe its just so she has an excuse to cuddle up against him or just the thrill of watching some action! Who knowssss~

- She often lets Moon take Mango home for the night, he loves that parrot so much. Which usually gets an "Again?" from Sun because he always watches her whenever he gets the smallest chance.

- She definitely goes absolutely CRAZY on presents for holidays like Valentine's or Christmas for these two. I have a feeling she'd notice that they clearly didn't have the best childhood or ways growing up, and being in a similar situation because her family is extremely religious and she never had any freedom until she moved away, she often tries to make them happy and gets them as many gifts as possible. She spent all her money on them at on point and her only explanation was "I care for you guys a bit too much."

- cough wyervan ever since you mentioned that throwing a rock situation to get it through their heads that Kalamela loves them more than friends I can't help but imagine that she'd ask her friends about how to talk to them and her two friends, (Sprite and Eclipse, both guys, married gay men. They are extremely supportive. Would be great to have a beer with btw.) offer to help her, and eclipse throws a rock at both of them with a note attached to it while she just stands there in absolute shock that he actually aimed for their head. Oh and Sprite had to help Moon hold Sun back from beating his ass. Good times.

- I feel like at some point she would accidentally come across them killing someone and it results in this huge "oh shiiiitttt" moment from Sun and Moon as they drag her away into a more secluded area and then beg her not to tell anyone. (Even though her and Moon already talk about the killings, he still freaked) She doesn't rat them out because she is NOT getting slashed today, but often finds herself contemplating whether she should move and cut contact with them, despite the fact she loves them oh-so dearly!

#dca slasher au #dca slasher sun #dca slasher moon #dca slasher au y/n #daycare attendant #dca #dca moon #dca sun #dca au #ur honor they're all married with a crazy energetic child and have a pet chihuahua and parrot dont put them in jail!!!#i love them so much im going to explode #hear me out but what if they wore the wedding dresses and she wore the suit

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cosmic-crashout · 1 month ago

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LOWKEY drop more lore abt Emery🙏

OH MY GOSH

REALLY!?

You wanna know more!? Cause I have more!!!

Okay, so

Emery’s civilian identity isn’t well known not because of any hand wavy bullshit, it’s literally just cause he’s not interesting enough to the public (specially the media) to keep an eye on, why would you waste time covering a single hero who only rebuilds when you could focus on the heroes who destroyed the buildings in the first place? You don’t, and Emery is a bit of a hermit when he’s off the clock so it attracts less scrutiny on his out of the field activities

Emery is big on separating business from personal life, at least most of the time, not when it involved a certain explosion hero that he occasionally had to clean up after but his relationship with Rex will be for another post if yall want to know, but a few facts about Emery,

He’s a part time student working towards a degree in Architecture and lives in a studio apartment, he’s halfway through his second year in S3

He has a work husband named Carden (my bestie’s oc), they’re close and met because they’re both usually on the rebuild/search and rescue teams

He’s originally from California but moved to Illinois for college and the GDA, he’s actually only been a hero for 2 years when Invincible S1 takes place, starting his hero career at 18 but having trained his powers since he was young

Hes not super close with his family (due to them not fully understanding or accept him being gay) but he still loves them, it’s complicated and messy but he tries not to let it bother him, it’s one of the reasons he moved to Illinois, his family is also why he didn’t start his hero career til he turned 18 due to his parents refusing to let him

On a lighter note,

I HC the GDA, like the Pentagon, has a food court that has like fast food and there’s a fast food worker Emery has beef with for no reason (inspired absolutely by that McDonald’s in the Pentagon song I’m not even sorry)

He has a bit of experience with relationships but he’s never had a crush so overwhelming and as bad as the one he has on Rex, Carden doesn’t approve at all and constantly questions his taste in men

That’s all that I can think of right now that’s solid, if you have anymore questions about him, I’d love any chance to blab and talk shop about my boy

Have a lil doodle of my boy

#invincible #oc x canon #y/n #male reader #invincible oc #rex sloan x reader #rex splode x reader #cosmic words #emery santos

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idaisyy · 2 months ago

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Tag , you’re in - a cmpunk x oc enimies to lovers

Chapter 9-

The days went on and punk wouldn't so much as speak to Daisy

She felt really bad , she knows she took it too far by physically hurting him but what was she supposed to do! He kept pushing her , he wanted a reaction so he got one

Just not the one he wanted

Daisy had been trying to get him to talk to her for the first couple days , even en argument to spark because that was better than the tense awkward silence they were stuck in 24/7

"Punkkkkk I got you your favorite snacks while I was in the gas station" she gleefully said to him once she got back into the car

All he does is give her a small thumbs up, no eye contact , no words

She even tried to whirl him up after a match to get an argument going and break his silence streak

"You fucking sucked out there , like i thought you were injured or something with how bad you were doing"

Not a word

After the first couple days she just accepted that she fucked up and this was her life now , traveling with someone who hated her in completely silence.

Until....

Punk is in the men's locker room.. he stopped using there tag team locker room since the slap a couple days ago, just another way he was avoiding her

he's in the locker room, taping up his wrists, pretending he doesn't hear the conversation happening a few feet away.

At first, it's just the usual bullshit—someone cracking a joke about Daisy's temper, about how she "acts tough" but still got put in her place when Punk shut her out.

But then it turns into something else.

one of the guys brings up the Never Have I Ever game from before.

they start making crude jokes, speculating about why Daisy's never had a guy go down on her.

"Dude they probably don't go down on her for a reason bro , I mean she's smoking hot so something's gotta be wrong down there" some guy who was such a nobody punk didn't even know his name

"Man I don't care I'm tryna volunteer as tribute, I just know I could please her , maybe even get some pleasure myself , I just know that mouth go crazy" the over cocky mid carder responds

And that's when Punk sees red.

Before he even realizes what he's doing, he slams his tape down and snaps—"The hell did you just say?"

The room goes quiet. The guys look at him, caught off guard. "Relax, man. We're just joking."

Punk's jaw clenches. "Yeah? So's your in-ring work, but you don't hear me running my mouth about it."

One of them scoffs. "Damn, didn't realize you were her bodyguard."

"I'm not." His voice is sharp, his stare even sharper. "I just don't like hearing a bunch of nobodies talk about someone who could outwork them any day of the week."

Silence. No one wants to push him further.

Satisfied, Punk grabs his stuff and storms out. But now he's pissed—not just at them, but at himself. Because why does he care so much? Why does the thought of them talking about Daisy like that make him want to break something?

And that's when he realizes—he has to find her.

he doesn't even know what he's going to say, but he has to see her. Has to make sure she's okay.

He finally spots her outside, sitting alone, arms wrapped around herself like she's trying to hold something in.

And for the first time in days, he doesn't feel mad.

He just feels tired.

Punk stands there for a moment, just watching.

Daisy sits on the steps outside the arena, arms wrapped around her knees, staring off into the distance. There's a slight crease between her brows, her jaw tight like she's thinking too much. Like she's working through something she won't let herself say out loud.

And for reasons he doesn't want to analyze, Punk hates seeing her like that.

Eventually, she senses him. Looks up. Blinks like she wasn't expecting to see him.

"Is our match next?"

Punk exhales, stepping forward. "Nah. We've got time." He hesitates, then sits next to her, stretching his legs out. "What are you doing out here?"

Daisy shrugs. "Just needed some air."

He studies her. "Why?"

She hesitates, then mutters, "I get a little anxious before matches. Always have."

Punk raises an eyebrow. "You? Miss 'I Can Take On Anyone' gets nervous?"

Daisy rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

But he doesn't. He just leans back on his elbows, gazing out at the parking lot. "It's not a bad thing, you know."

She glances at him. "What isn't?"

"The nerves." He tilts his head, voice casual. "Means you give a shit."

Daisy's quiet for a moment, like she wasn't expecting that from him.

Then she smirks. "What, are you actually being nice to me?"

Punk scoffs. "No." A beat. "Just stating a fact."

She chuckles softly, shaking her head. And maybe it's the way the tension in her shoulders loosens just a little, but Punk finds himself exhaling, the frustration of the past few days fading.

After a moment, he shrugs. "By the way... I forgive you."

Daisy turns to him, blinking. "Wait, what?"

"For slapping me." He smirks, eyes flicking to hers. "I probably deserved it."

Daisy searches his face, like she's trying to figure out if he's messing with her. When she realizes he's not, she exhales, something unreadable flickering across her expression.

"Yeah," she mutters, nudging him with her elbow. "You did."

And for the first time in a long time, sitting side by side, they don't feel like enemies.

Not quite.

"Now come on crybaby , there's two more matches before us and we need to stretch"

They had a match against the team of Trish stratus and dashing Cody Rhodes

Dashing stratus

The match starts off like any other—Daisy and Punk arguing over who gets to start, Trish taking early control, the usual chaos.

But then Cody starts insisting on tagging in whenever Daisy is in the ring.

Punk watches from the apron, arms folded, brow furrowed. Why the hell is Cody so set on her?

At first, Punk brushes it off. Maybe Cody's just underestimating Daisy, thinks she's an easier opponent. But the more it happens, the more Punk notices. The way Cody smirks at her. The way he talks shit only to her. The way Daisy's expression hardens every time they lock up.

Something's off.

But Punk doesn't have time to dwell on it—because when he finally tags in, he and Daisy actually work well together. Too well. The tension is high, the teamwork is almost seamless, and when they win—when Punk pins Cody and Daisy knocks Trish off the apron—they're both breathless, staring at each other like they can't quite believe it.

Back at the hotel, though, the moment is gone.

Punk paces their shared room, arms crossed. He shouldn't care, but the question keeps nagging at him. Finally, he blurts out—"What's the deal with you and Cody?"

Daisy, sitting on the bed, tenses. "What?"

"You heard me." Punk stops, eyes locked on her. "He was targeting you. Why?"

She hesitates. Then—"It's not a big deal."

Punk's stare sharpens. "Daisy."

A long pause. Then, reluctantly, she mutters—"He's my ex."

Silence.

Punk's grip tightens on his arms. He shouldn't care. Shouldn't give a damn.

But he does.

And instead of admitting that, he scoffs. "So what, you piss off every guy you date?"

Daisy's head snaps up. "Excuse me?"

"Cody clearly hates you. Makes me wonder what you did."

The moment the words are out, Punk knows he's being an asshole. Knows he's just deflecting. But he doesn't stop.

Daisy's eyes narrow. "Why do you have to think I did something to make him hate me?"

Punk scoffs, arms still crossed. "Because I know you, and you're good at pissing people off."

Daisy's jaw clenches. "Yeah? Well, maybe he's the one who pissed me off."

That actually makes Punk pause. His gaze flickers, scanning her face like he's trying to read between the lines. "So what happened?"

Daisy exhales sharply, shaking her head. "I don't owe you an explanation."

Punk lets out a dry laugh. "Right. Of course not." He turns away, jaw tight. "You're real good at that, huh? Keeping secrets."

Daisy glares at his back. "Oh, give me a break. You don't actually care—you just want something to hold over me."

That hits a little too close to home. Punk spins around, eyes sharp. "Maybe I don't give a shit. Maybe I just think it's funny that your ex couldn't stand you either."

Daisy flinches—just barely, but he catches it. And for a split second, Punk regrets it.

But before he can say anything, Daisy's already grabbing her bag, shoving past him toward the door.

"Fuck you, Punk."

And then she's gone, slamming the door behind her.

And Punk? He just stands there, staring at the empty space she left behind, feeling like shit.

#cm punk smut #cm punk imagine #cm punk #wwe smut #wwe raw #wwe imagine #wweedit #wwe gifs #wwe smackdown #wwe #slow burn #seth rollins smut #enimies to lovers

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leechiourdes · 2 months ago

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random dumb shit about my I Eat Pasta for Breakfast reboot that I wanna talk about but also I can't really shoe into the actual comic

(if you wanna read it and you don't know me yet its here: @everydayisquiet)

Lazari has a slight southern accent. This is because her mother, Isabella Loretta Swansong was born and raised in Georgia. Even if she lived in Oregon during her adulthood with her daughter, she never interacted with others much and didn't allow TV in her house, so Lazari ended up picking up her accent and mixing it with the general American accent she picked up from the kids that she lived next to. Every time Lazari mentions her mom, she calls her "Momma" in my head, but I change it to something easier to remember like "Mom" or "Mama" because sometimes I'm just really pressed for time. If the comic ever gets dubbed (which would be absolutely insane I would be able to die happily after that) Laz's voice actor would have to put on that slight southern twang for it to sound like how I think she would sound.

The butterfly wall in Slender's house was a very deliberate choice and the reason why its there is very near and dear to my little heart

this came from two different inspirations: 1.) When I was younger, I heard a scary story called "The Red Butterfly." I believe it was also a creepypasta, but it never got that big. The story follows a little girl who's mother works at a butterfly enclosure. While she was at her mom's workplace, she was told that she can chase any butterfly she wants, except the red ones. The girl ignores the warning and chases the red butterflies anyway, but on the car ride home, she is followed by a red butterfly with human eyes, watching her. The butterfly continues to follow her for the rest of her life. I was already shit scared of every single insect, including butterflies, ESPECIALLY the ones with the wings that look like eyes, so this really spooked me. It really stuck with me, and so I wanted to pay homage to it and have it in the background.

2.) Chibi-Works/Tobi (the original creator of iepfb) made a reboot of her own some time ago, with all the creepypasta characters that weren't her OCs swapped out for more original characters, and in that reboot, Slender's replacement has this weird, butterfly-related ability

The butterflies are really cool, but I'm using the actual Slenderman in this comic, so I wanted to also include an homage to them. I ended up killing two birds with one stone with the wall display.

I'll continue to put up hints and Easter Eggs and foreshadowing onto the walls, so look out for those, because I usually, if not always, put up details like wall decorations for an important reason.

Jay and Alex from MH will eventually show up, and they will be important, I PROMISE.

Ben is British, this was an impulse addition. I did not think this through before turning him British.

Zalgo has literally hundreds and hundreds of children, and he's making them for a reason. But if I elaborate, I'll start spoiling.

If you guys want me to continue with random bullshit about this world and characters that don't matter at all then please tell me

#creepypasta #creepypasta fanart #slenderman #evil iepfb #i eat pasta for breakfast #lazari creepypasta #lazari swann #creepypasta art #creepypasta fandom #slender mansion #crepypasta slenderman #slenderman creepypasta #marble hornets #jay merrick #jay marble hornets #alex kralie #alex marble hornets

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smilingformoney · 5 months ago

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Rickmas Day 9: Unwanted Solitude

Character: David Friedman (Judas Kiss) Relationship(s): David/Charley (OC) Warnings: age gap, car blow job, semi-public fingering

Based on Stormy Reunion

Read on Ao3 or below:

David was feeling all manner of things as he sat himself at the bar and ordered a whisky. Irritated, embarrassed, hurt. Far too many feelings for him to process anyhow, so he dealt with them the best way he knew - by drinking them into numbness.

He’d found himself on his first date in the better part of a year, after finally working up the courage to ask out one of the moms from Jess’ school. He should have known it’d go bad from the moment she suggested they meet at this damn cocktail bar where all the drinks were $5 minimum for the sake of adding unnecessary mixers and giving them a fancy name. What ever happened to good old fashioned straight drinking?

Then she was late, which David didn’t mind so much, but she apologised by cussing out the cop that had pulled her over, which led to a rant against the police force in general. Maybe David let her go on a bit too long before telling her he was a cop, because the moment he did reveal it, the atmosphere quickly became tense. She excused herself to the bathroom, then on her return made an excuse to leave, not even finishing her overpriced cocktail which she left David to pay for.

So here he was, sat at the bar in a place he’d never choose to set foot in, probably looking real out of place with his two fingers of whisky, moping that his foray into post-divorce dating had been a complete disaster.

He vaguely noticed the music changing from live to records, and just as he was considering packing it in and going home, someone hopped onto the stool next to him.

“Y’know, I see a lot going on from the stage,” said a woman’s voice. “But that has got to take the cake for the shortest date. What’d you say to her?”

David looked up at the stranger, just about ready to tell her to piss off. But something about her, maybe the balls to talk to him so brazenly, maybe the cheeky grin on her face, or maybe the fact she was damn gorgeous, prompted him to humour her.

“Told her I was a cop.”

“And that turned her off?” the woman said with amusement. “No accounting for taste, I guess. Me, I like a man in a uniform. ‘Specially if that uniform comes with handcuffs.”

She grinned flirtatiously, then glanced at David’s drink.

“Oh hell naw. You telling me Joe let you order a straight? Didn’t insist on an umbrella or nothin’?”

David picked up the umbrella he’d discarded on the bar. The woman smirked.

“Ah, he got you there at least. C’mon, you gotta try a cocktail. I’m buyin’.”

David shrugged. “I ain’t sayin’ no to a free drink from a pretty lady.”

“Hey, Joe!” the woman called over to the bartender. “Can I have my usual and a Banging Banshee?”

“Sure thing, babygirl.”

Joe set about making whatever bullshit she’d ordered, and the woman turned back to David.

“I’m Charley, by the way.”

“Dave.”

“Just Dave?”

“Just Charley?”

Charley laughed. “Yeah, alright. Charlotte Maria Tate, if you must know, Officer. But you can call me Charley, everyone does.”

“David Friedman. And it’s Detective, not Officer.”

“Ooh, a detective! What, you solve, like, murders and stuff?”

David thought back to the Hornbeck and Dyson case he’d wrapped up maybe a year or so ago.

“Sometimes. Not really a case man anymore - seen enough of that. I work in prevention more’n apprehension now.”

Joe presented them with their drinks, something yellow in a coupe glass for him, and something orange in a highball glass for her.

“Five bucks for his.”

Charley passed him a note from her pocket - from some tight denim shorts, David noticed, that curved nicely around her ass - then took a sip from her drink.

“God, I fucking needed that,” she said with a groan of relief.

David eyed his drink suspiciously.

“Can I know what I’m drinking before I drink it?”

“Poitín, rye whiskey, yellow chartreuse, lime juice, sugar syrup an’ egg white.”

“Egg white?!” David repeated incredulously.

“Hey, don’t go knockin’ it ‘til you tried it.”

Encouraged by the mention of whiskey, David took a cautious sip of the drink.

“Alright… that’s pretty fuckin’ good,” he admitted.

“See, I told ya!” Charley grinned.

“What’s your usual, then?”

“Sex on the Beach.”

“Whatever floats your boat, but what about the drink?”

“That’s what we call it. Vodka, peach schnapps, orange and cranberry. Tastes like fruit juice but with all the health benefits of booze.”

“Bein’ none.”

“Exactly!” Charley laughed and raised her glass to him. “To tryin’ new things, huh?”

“I s’pose,” David replied. He took a sip of his admittedly delicious drink then asked, “So whaddya do for a livin’, Charlotte Maria Tate?”

Her lips still around the straw of her drink, Charley pointed to the blackboard by the bar.

Live music with Charley Tate Wednesdays and Saturdays 6-7pm

“Well, don’t I seem like an ass,” David said. “I swear I heard your singin’, and it was real good. Just too focused on my mopin’ to look at ya.”

“Naw, don’t you worry about it,” Charley said with a wave of her hand. “I’m used to it. Live singers are a dime a dozen here, we become background noise real quick.”

“Well, if I’d pulled my head outta my ass for a sec and looked to see if you look as pretty as you sound, that date woulda gone a lot worse when she noticed I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

Where Dave had found the courage to flirt with this girl clearly much younger than him, he had no idea, but it must have worked because, rather than act repulsed by the old man flirting with her, Charley smiled and blushed slightly.

“And… do I look as pretty as I sound?”

“Well, I don’t know about pretty… bit infantilising, ain’t it? Like you’re a flower or summat I wanna look at but not touch. I’d say you’re more…”

David paused, thinking, trying to find the right word.

“Smoking hot?” Charley suggested.

David smirked.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“So if pretty means you wanna look but not touch, what does smoking hot mean you wanna do?”

David’s breath caught in his throat. It didn’t evade his notice the way she was sitting, body language open, fingers tracing the rim of her glass.

“‘Cause I’ll tell you what it means to me,” Charley continued when David paused. She leant forward slightly, one hand now draped over the back of his chair.

“If I were to say someone was smoking hot, I’d mean I had my eyes on them since they walked in. I’d mean that nothin’ would make me happier in that very moment than to find myself in that person’s bed and get fucked into next week. So when I say, Detective David Friedman, that you are smoking hot, I truly mean it.”

David looked her up and down, licking his lips without even realising he was doing it.

“You’re a bold young gal,” he said in a low voice. “Out of all the young fellas in here, you really wanna be comin’ on to the grumpy old man?”

Charley flashed a smile at him as she leaned closer.

“What can I say? I got good taste. Better’n that gal you came in with, anyhow.”

David smirked.

“That you do, darlin’.”

Their lips met, and in an instant David felt a wave of relief wash over him. Any stress he had about work, about his shitty date, about Monica and Jess - it all fell away. What did any of that matter anyhow? Somehow the hottest thing he’d seen in a long time had set her sights on him, and he was more than happy to oblige.

For a few dazzling moments, he forgot where he was, even who he was - he was lost in the kiss, Charley’s soft lips juxtaposed with the intensity that she was kissing him as her tongue pressed against his lips and he opened his mouth slightly to let her in.

He grabbed the back of her head as he kissed her back just as fiercely, his tongue not complacent for a moment in her invasion of his mouth, and their tongues seemed to be fighting for dominance. He tugged slightly on her hair, and the small whine that came from the back of her throat let him know that she liked it.

“Hey, I don’t wanna be seein’ all that!” Joe said from behind the bar.

Charley laughed, which forced her to pull back from the kiss. David had no intention of stopping, though, so he began attacking her neck with his lips, tasting every inch of her that he could. He could smell her strawberry shampoo, and it only made him want her more.

“Sorry, Joe,” Charley laughed, squirming slightly under David’s touch. Was she ticklish? “Guess we’d better take it outside, huh?”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ better.”

“Your place or mine?” David murmured as he reluctantly pulled back.

“I live with my parents, so…”

God, she really was young. Well, she had to be at least 21 or she wouldn’t be getting served.

“My place it is. Good thing too, ‘cus I got some cuffs back home I reckon’d look real good on you.”

“You arrestin’ me, Detective?”

“Not them kinda cuffs,” David growled. He slipped off his barstool, then grabbed Charley by the waist and pulled her to her feet.

“Last chance to tell me to fuck off, babydoll,” David warned her. “Once I get you back to mine, there’s no goin’ back.”

Charley ran her hands up his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself in closer. There was no way in hell she didn’t feel his growing erection pressing up against his thigh.

“Now, why would I be wantin’ you to fuck off, huh? In case it ain’t clear, I want you to fuck me.”

It took every ounce of David’s strength not to bend her over the bar and make her wish come true right there and then.

“I’m parked out front,” he said instead.

“Meet you there? I gotta grab my stuff from out back.”

“Don’t keep me waitin’ too long.”

Charley winked at him, turned back to the bar to gulp down the rest of her drink, and David happily watched her ass as she walked towards the employee door. He glanced at his drink, but decided against necking it - he needed a clear head to drive, plus he didn’t want to embarrass himself with a case of whiskey dick.

Instead, while he waited for Charley, he went out front and leaned against his car door as he pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket, hoping a few puffs of nicotine would help calm the arousal crowding his brain and the blood pumping into his cock for long enough to drive home.

He closed his eyes as he took a long puff, letting the relaxation course through his veins. His eyes snapped open again when the cigarette was snatched from between his lips, and the irritation he felt quickly melted away when he saw the thief was Charley, now wearing a jacket with a bag slung over her shoulder. She took the final drag of David’s cigarette, her eyes burning into his, then dropped it on the floor and stamped it out with her shoe as she released the excess smoke into the cool evening air.

David grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against his body to kiss her fiercely, as if he were trying to suck back the smoke she’d stolen.

“Get your ass in the car,” he growled.

“Yes, sir,” Charley giggled. David opened the passenger seat to let her in, then got in himself on the other side.

“Last time I was in one of these, I was in the back,” Charley said as David started the engine and prepared to pull out into the road.

He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow.

“How’d a good girl like you end up in the back of a cop’s car?”

“What makes you think I’m a good girl?” Charley said suggestively, and David found his eyes wandering down to her thighs, which were calling out for him to grab them as he drove.

“Well, if you ain’t… so long as you’re good for me tonight.”

“Oh, I can’t promise anything, Dave. You got me so hot and bothered, I feel my morals falling away by the second.”

“Fuck,” David hissed. He had to turn away from her to concentrate on the road, or else he’d crash from being so distracted, and he didn’t fancy having to explain to his colleagues in traffic why he crashed his car.

“I’ll be honest, I ain’t been in a cop car for nefarious reasons,” Charley admitted as David drove as carefully as he could when his mind was clouded with arousal and a little bit of alcohol. “A cop gave me a ride home once when he found me out late with no cash for a taxi. At first I think he was gonna arrest me, thinkin’ I was a prostitute, but when he realised I was just dumb enough to leave my tips at the bar, he took me home.”

“Glad you met a good one. I know plenty of good cops, but I know a lotta bad ones too. They might not have been kind enough to get you somewhere safe.”

“Does that make you a good cop or a bad cop if you’re takin’ me to your place?”

David chuckled.

“I’m off-duty. I ain’t a cop tonight. Just a man lucky enough to meet a lovely lady after a shitty date.”

“Mmm, I oughta thank her for walkin’ out. Else I mighta missed my shot.”

Charley looked curiously around the car, noticing the ways an undercover cop car differed from a normal car.

“You always drive your work car to dates?”

David laughed. “This is my usual car. Doubles as a police vehicle just in case. I may be off-duty, but I see a crime happenin’, I wanna take the suspect in.”

“That happen a lot?”

“More’n I’d like, but it‘s part of the job.”

“I’d say I’m surprised you see crime off-duty that much, but this is New Orleans.”

“True that.”

David sighed and sat back into his seat as they hit traffic.

“You got lights on this thing?” Charley asked.

David turned to look at her.

“I am desperate to fuck you, Charley, but I ain’t turnin’ my lights on for it.”

She laughed. “Yeah, alright. Worth a shot. Hey, these windows are one-way, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So no one’d notice if I did… this?”

She reached into his lap, bypassing his thigh, and went straight to cupping the hard-on that was threatening to break free of his trousers.

“Fuck,” David hissed. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he tried to contain himself. Clearly pleased with herself, Charley gave him a slight squeeze, and he had to bite his lip to try and keep a cool head.

“Maybe no one’d see… but they’ll notice when I crash from bein’ so distracted.”

“Naw, I reckon you got better self-control than that. Why don’t we test my theory, huh?”

Slowly, teasingly, Charley began caressing David’s cock through the fabric of his trousers. He let out a short growl.

“Fucking hell…”

The light turned green, and David was finally able to drive off again… just as Charley reached for his belt buckle.

“Fuck… that desperate for it, huh? I’m only a half hour away…”

“Plenty of time for a lil foreplay, don’t ya think?”

Some part of David’s brain told him this was a bad idea, but another part had his hand helping Charley with his fly, and when she pulled his cock out from its confines of his boxers, he groaned in relief as the tension of its fabric prison fell away.

“God, you’re fucking big,” Charley said, her voice laced with arousal as she held his cock in her hand, thumb running up the side as she explored his shaft. “How am I supposed to fit all that inside me, huh?”

“I’ll just have to stretch you out,” David replied as he changed lanes, aiming for a route to his place that was longer but quieter. “Make sure you’re so wet you’ll hardly notice how much I’m filling you up until you’re already stuffed full of cock.”

Charley squirmed in her seat, her thighs rubbing together.

“Maybe you’re wet already. Reckon I could slip right in there by now.”

“Which way you takin’ me home, Dave?” Charley asked, noticing that he’d taken her down a quieter stretch of road.

“The quieter way. Takes us a bit further out, though.”

Charley bit her lip, her eyes darting around mischievously as she looked at the mostly-empty road.

“Seems there’s no one around.”

“Seems so.”

She looked at him again, and he glanced over at her long enough to see her eyes were aflame with lust.

“I wanna suck your cock while you drive,” Charley said. “Reckon you can keep drivin’ like nothing’s happenin’ while I suck you off?”

David kept his left hand on the steering wheel while his right draped around the back of her seat.

“Why don’t we give it a try?”

Charley grinned eagerly. She unbuckled her belt and adjusted herself in her seat so she could lean over into his lap.

”Fuck!” David hissed as he felt her lips envelop the tip of his cock, the first warm flesh he’d felt other than his hand in a long time, and the hand that had been on her headrest grabbed her hair, bunching it up in his fist to move it aside so he could see her taking him further into her mouth, inch by inch.

Reluctantly, he looked ahead at the road, trying to keep an eye out for hazards as his cock was being eagerly taken into Charley’s hungry mouth.

“Fu-uck, that’s it…” David groaned as he felt his cockhead pressing against the roof of her mouth. She wrapped one hand around the rest of his cock, and with the encouraging bucking of his hips, Charley began sucking on his shaft, fist pumping the parts she couldn’t reach.

“Good girl… oh, such a good girl for me, Charley… don’t worry about taking me all the way, I know I ain’t gonna fit… but we can practice that, huh? Fuck…”

Encouraged by his words, Charley began sucking him off faster, the thrill of doing it in a moving car sending her arousal straight to her pussy.

David was a loud moaner, and hearing his baritone voice lost in a frenzy of arousal had her pussy aching with a need to be stuffed full of David’s cock.

She vaguely felt the car move to the right as David turned, but she paid no attention to where they were going. She was too lost in the moment, too eager to taste David’s cum spilling into her mouth.

When the car came to a stop, Charley paused, and David pulled her by the hair to detach her lips from his cock.

She looked around, confused, but before she could ask why they’d stopped, David was out of the car and moving around to her side. She noticed that they were on an empty, dark road, with trees overhanging either side. It looked like somewhere out of a horror movie.

Charley heard the passenger door open behind her. David’s hands grabbed her hips and pulled her backwards until her ass was half hanging out of the car. Her skirt was flipped up, her panties shoved to the side, and she cried out in surprise when she felt David’s fingers dive between her legs, a squelching sound giving away just how wet she was.

“Told you you’d be soaked,” David growled. “Your cunt’s just calling out for me.”

He slipped two fingers into her entrance, and Charley whined. David immediately began pumping his fingers inside her, giving her some relief from the burning desperation she felt, but it wasn’t enough.

“Fuck me, Dave,” Charley begged. “Pl - please - please, fuck me, I need your cock…”

“What, right here on the side of the road?” David teased, as if he wasn’t already fingering her there. “You askin’ me to break the law, Charley?”

“There’s - hnnnn - there’s no one here —”

“Not yet maybe… how’m I supposed to explain it if another cop comes by, huh?”

“D - Dave, please… if not here, then get me home already, I - I can’t stand it anymore, I need your cock, please!”

“Alright, alright! Impatient li’l thing, ain’t ya?”

David withdrew his fingers and licked them clean, making exaggerated grunts of delight as he tasted her.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he groaned.

“Dave, please,” Charley complained, her wips wriggling in a desperate attempt to get some kind of relief.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.”

He gave her a short, sharp slap on her rear, and the whine that left her throat told him that she liked it. He smirked, making a mental note of that for later. He flipped her skirt back down.

“Sit your ass down, babydoll. And get your seatbelt on, I don’t wanna be payin’ no fine if you get caught without it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Charley replied, obediently swinging her legs back around to sit up straight and put her seatbelt on.

David groaned deeply. He cupped Charley’s face and turned her head towards him. He ran his thumb across her lip, and instinctively she took it into her mouth and sucked.

“Say that again,” he growled.

“Yes, Daddy,” Charley said obediently.

David grinned. “Oh, we are gonna have a lot of fun.”

#rickmas2024 #david friedman #alan rickman #judas kiss #dave x charley

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ashleyfilm · 8 months ago

Text

Seeing Clearly - Chapter. 10 Patrol

Hi Everyone! Couldn't wait a day longer to give you this next chapter. :)

Chapter Warnings: cursing, angst, talk of body image, smut, violence, blood, - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!OC Plus Size Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel go out on patrol, he helps you feel good again. 3K

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9

Chapter 10. Patrol

The next morning you find yourself walking outside the walls of Jackson with Joel Miller. How the hell did this happen? Oh yeah, you asked to be put on patrol, and he said only if it’s with him. Good lord. After the events of last night, you don’t really feel like talking which suits him just fine, you’re sure. But the longer you walk you realize he doesn’t feel as cold as usual. He walks close to you; tells you where you’re going and what’s next. You feel his eyes on you, checking on you. Maybe this is just high-alert Joel, no time to ice you out when your lives are at stake. Okay, fine. You’ll take this over asshole Joel any day.

You make your way to a safe house where you’re to check in and drop off supplies for emergencies when anyone might be stuck out here or finds themselves on their own. It’s basically a studio-sized log cabin. Just a couch, fireplace, bed and kitchen all in one room and a small bathroom. It’s fortified and locked up with padlocks that need codes to open them. Those codes get changed regularly and are only known on a need-to-know basis. If you don’t go on patrol, you don’t know them. Joel and you are to hunker down there for a few hours to keep watch see if there’s any traffic in the area, raiders, clickers or otherwise. You’ve got a walkie which is turned on to a certain channel for emergencies only and so-far, not a peep.

After about an hour keeping watch and feeling like Joel has been sneaking glances at you every other fucking second, you finally speak. “Joel, what the fuck?” He frowns furrows his brow and says, “What?” Right back to you. “Joel, you keep looking at me, what is it?” He sighs, classic fucking Joel. “Look, Ash, you’ve been quiet all day, usually I can’t get you to shut the fuck up.” You scoff and that turns into a breathy laugh, Joel looks at you with a small smirk. “Oh, Joel, you miss the sound of my voice? Is it just too quiet for you,” you say with a sing-song cadence as you walk towards him. Joel rolls his eyes and looks down at you as you approach with a sideways smile, “Let’s not go that far. Just want to make sure you’re alright.” Your breath hitches as he touches your arm and his deep chocolate eyes look into yours and you realize what he’s talking about. “Oh, you mean last night. Yeah, that was… uncool.” You say as you push your hands into your pockets and look away from him.

But then Joel grabs your chin in his fingers so softly, you didn’t know he was capable of being that soft and lightly urges you to look up at him again. “No, that last night, that was bullshit. I mean it. That boy wouldn’t know what do with a woman if he had the chance. He only said that shit because you put him in his place, which he deserved, and he was embarrassed in front of his dumbass buddies.” Joel moves his hand from your chin to your cheek and even though he looks full of anger, none of it is at you and you can’t feel an ounce of it in his touch. Only comfort, only warmth, only genuine care. “You’re right, Joel. And I’ve dealt with it before. It’s something I’m used to, and I don’t let it get to me but there were so many people there last night. I’m not used to having an audience and it just broke me down a little. But I promise, I’m fine. A little bruised but I’ve handled a fuck ton worse.”

Joel, even more angry now, walks over to the window and looks out. “Goddammit, but you shouldn’t have to be used to something like that. It’s fucking bullshit. No one should have the right to talk about your body but you.” You smile and walk over to him. Joel Miller’s a fucking feminist. Will wonders never cease with this man? As you get closer, he continues turning to look at you, “And if ever you allow anyone else to, they should be fucking worshipping you.” You stop dead in your tracks and Joel looks at you like he never has before, with so much want and desire you’re almost scared. He continues, eyes almost black now, “I heard you the other night after we talked at your place. Made the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard. Were you thinkin’ about me, Darlin’?” Your eyes start to tear but you just blink them back, never taking your eyes off his. “It’s okay, I think about you, too. Know I shouldn’t… but I can’t help myself. Can’t get you outta my head.”

“Joel…” you whisper so quietly. “S’okay, honey, it’s just me.” Joel sits on the couch and motions for you to sit next to him. Without a thought, you obey. Sitting to his left, you wait to hear what’s next. “You wanna show me, huh? Show me what you did to yourself to make those sounds. Need to hear ‘em again.” You nod, saying nothing. “Okay, go on then, show me.” You hurriedly start to unbutton your jeans and unzip, when Joel says softly, “Slower.” Again, you immediately obey. Slowly pulling at your zipper and making room by pushing your jeans down your thighs a bit and pulling your underwear to the side revealing your already wet folds. Swollen and ready. Joel takes your glasses off and sets them on the table next to him. You hesitate and Joel senses it, “Touch her. She wants it, I can tell.” And your fingers start to caress your sensitive pussy. Slipping through your folds, gathering your slick and moving it around to coat everything in your arousal. You bite your lip to contain a whimper. “There she is. You sound so pretty, you know that?” Joel slurs into your ear and goosebumps breakout all over your neck as you close your eyes. “I think she wants a finger inside, don’t you? Why don’t you give her what she wants,” he says so close this time that your head falls to the side into his nose, and he inhales the scent of your hair.

With Joel’s instruction you take your middle finger and push it inside your entrance with a small gasp. “There you go, oh, good girl. That feels so good, huh? Go on, you can tell me.” With another gasp you whisper, “Yes, Joel. So good.” “Shh, I know.” He says as he pets your hair and runs his right hand down your left arm to your hand that’s splayed on the couch next to your thigh. He takes your hand in his and brings it up to your breast, squeezing it with your hand, using your fingers to pull at the budded nipple through your thin shirt and bra. Once he’s satisfied that you’ll carry on that way on your own he takes his hand and moves it down to where you’re touching yourself. “Can I help? I don’t think your small finger is going to be enough for her.” You nod, whimpering and moaning, your eyes fluttering open and then closed again. You’ve never felt this much pleasure in your life. Where the hell did he come from?

With that, Joel joins your middle finger with his own, much thicker and longer than yours, and the feeling is exquisite. Slowly he moves your hands out and back in making sure to push your palm against your clit as he does. The third time he pushes back in hard and fast making you both moan together. Both your heads rub together, until he pulls away just to watch. “Oh baby, she’s taking us so well. I want you to look,” he says but you can’t seem to move or think. He uses his other hand to hold the back of your neck and position so you can see what he’s watching, just beyond your stomach, you can see both your hands and then both your fingers appear when he pulls back, covered in your slick, then disappear back inside you. “I can tell she’s close baby, you feel her squeezing us?” You look up at him now and he looks right at you. “I’ve got you, faster now.” And he pushes your fingers in and keeps them there, curling your finger with his harder and faster now, more and more pressure. “It’s okay, let go for me, give me what I want, give me your come, come for me, you deserve it. I wanna hear it, I wanna feel it, I wanna see it, please. Look at me,” he commands, and you do and just then your orgasm hits you like a speeding train, “Oh god, Joel, I’m coming, oh god. Ungghhh, Joel.” Your pussy clenches you and Joel’s fingers so tight and spills your juices all over them. Joel stills your fingers inside you as you come back to life, whispering in your ear, “Good girl. Did so good f’me. I’m so proud of you.”

He takes your hand in his after you recover a bit more and takes his finger and puts it to your mouth, you take it in instantly, tasting yourself on him and he surprises you by taking your finger into his own mouth, “I need a taste too,” he says. And as soon as his tongue touches your finger, he makes the deepest moan you’ve ever heard, and you think you could come again just from hearing that. “Fuck, you taste so good, knew you would.” And he leans closer to your mouth, removing his finger and yours licking his lips and looking at your mouth, and you know he’s going to kiss you, something you’ve been missing every moment since that first kiss that morning in your bed at his house.

Skkkrch. “Joel!” The walkie comes to life. “Joel! You need to get back here now.” Maria’s voice comes through the walkie. Joel closes his eyes, his hand still holding yours when he whispers, “Fuck.” Then he’s up responding to the call. “Copy. On our way.” The silence is loud. You start to pull your pants back up and gather your things. “We gotta, I don’t know, we gotta get back,” Joel says with concern for Jackson evident on his face. “Of course, let’s go,” you say as you touch his arm. “Wait,” he says looking around, grabbing your glasses and instead of handing them to you, he unfolds them and places them back on your face gently, and smiles and you think this might be the moment, the moment you fall for Joel fucking Miller.

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As you and Joel enter the gates of Jackson you run into Ellie, who looks panicked. Joel runs straight to her, holding her face, “What is it babygirl? What’s wrong?” Ellie, blinks back tears of relief seeing Joel and squeaks out, “It’s Tommy, he’s okay but he got jumped, he’s home with Maria you need to come there with me now.” Before you can speak Joel grabs your hand in his and pulls you along to Maria and Tommy’s place. When you walk in, Maria is icing Tommy’s busted lip, while he sits at the kitchen table holding another tea towel wrapped in ice on his eye. His arm is also in a sling. Joel stops dead in his tracks, but Tommy speaks first with a bit of a lisp from his injuries, “S’alright Joel, I’m fine, jus’ busted up. Reminds me of the times you picked me up in jail after a bar fight. I’ll survive.”

You squeeze Joel’s hand in reassurance, and he looks at you like he forgot you were with him but gives you a small, relieved smile. He lets go to sit next to Tommy and look at his injuries more closely. Maria motions for you to walk into the next room. “Maria, who did this?” you ask quietly. “It was Ryan,” she says equally as quiet. “Last night, Tommy dealt with Ryan after what he said to you, gave him some shit shoveling duty and extra work as a punishment for his behavior, he didn’t take kindly to it.” As she speaks, you’re filled with a blinding rage. You try to keep your composure and listen. “He snuck up on Tommy and sucker punched him, once Tommy was down, it wasn’t a fair fight. Look, we need to deal with this without Joel, he’ll go too far, we both know that.” Finally, with a measured tone you say, “Where is he? I won’t say anything to Joel, but I’d like to talk to Ryan myself,” Maria looks skeptical. “Are you sure you want to do that? He’s in the holding cell downtown.” You answer almost too quickly, “No problem. I’ll be back by in a bit, tell Tommy I’m sorry.” Before Maria can tell you that this isn’t your fault, you’ve snuck out the door.

Jackson’s holding cells are there to keep people after incidences of violence, theft, or other crimes, while the town decides what to do with them. Whether they are punished or expelled from Jackson altogether. As you walk towards the building where Ryan is being held, your heart hammers in your chest and something you spoke to Joel about less than a week ago comes back into your mind. “I’ve done terrible things.” And you had meant it. After you broke free from your shackles in the raiders camp you were trapped in, you found and hurt every single man you came across in that camp. You used whatever you had on you. At first, it was your teeth, then your fingers and nails. Your thick strong thighs broke a man’s neck. And even when they begged, even when they were the younger men, who were “just doing what they were told”, you didn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. After two years of being beaten, raped, tortured, mentally and verbally abused, you wanted to take control, you wanted to harm.

Ryan sitting there, locked in a cage, with a chair, his arms in handcuffs at his back. Some prisoner. You never had a chair. He didn’t seem to have a scratch on him, just a busted knuckle on his right hand. He hurt Tommy. Tommy was Joel’s brother, Maria’s husband, and your friend. He was family to you, and someone hurt him. That’s enough. A few people were standing watch. A couple of young women, Amy and Beck, who you’ve seen around town, regulars on patrol, and a slightly older man that was with Ryan at the table that night at the Bison. The one who smacked him when Ryan said those hateful things about you. “Bill,” he offers, nodded at you knowingly. “Could I have a moment with him?” The man instructs the women to take a break. He opens the cell for you and says quietly, “I’m here if you need but I won’t hear a thing.” You’re thankful for that.

Ryan looks up at you and laughs, “Come to kiss and makeup sweetheart.” You walk over and you can see the fear in his eyes when he gets a good look at you. Leaning in, you grab his pinkie and breaking it in one snap. “Ugh fuck, get off me bitch, Bill you see this?!” Bill stands there completely silent, and you finally speak. “You think he’s gonna help you, Ryan? He’s not gonna do shit. You got your little feelings hurt and you took it out on Tommy, well…Tommy’s my family. You hurt him, which means I can hurt you, the only difference is, I’m a lot more creative than you. You want to know all the ways a man can feel pain? How long a man can survive after a vein is opened? We can test that if you like. They didn’t want Joel to know it was you who did that to Tommy, they’re worried about what he might do to you, but they weren’t worried about me. They should have been.” In that moment you took one hand and racked your nails down the side of his face, tearing into his soft flesh, drawing a scream and blood from his face. Then you moved your mouth to his ear, speaking softly. “You’re going to leave Jackson, and in a few days, I’ll come looking so you better get as far away as you can. Go fast little boy, really fast or who knows what kind of thing I’ll get up to.” And you take a bite out of Ryan’s right ear as he screams again, and you spit it back into his face wiping the blood off your mouth on his shoulder.

Bill stands by as you leave, locks up and asks you to send the women back in. When you turn the corner wiping the blood off your glasses, Ellie is standing there looking absolutely mesmerized. Shit. “Ellie, you didn’t see anything or hear anything and we’re not speaking of this again,” you say as you keep walking past her. Outside you gesture to Amy and Beck and they walk back in, Ellie runs up to your side. She’s grinning like a little psycho and you speak again, “Ellie, stop, that wasn’t good or aspirational, you need to chill.” Ellie finally speaks, “That was fucking awesome, and he deserved it. I didn’t hear everything you said but shit, that dude was scared out of his mind, so it must have been good.” You look at Ellie and say plainly, “It was nothing, he was weak, anything would scare him. Don’t tell Joel. Or anyone for that matter.” Before you get too far, Ryan is begging to be let out of the gates, being guided by Bill. And you trust that you won’t have to deal with Ryan ever again.

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