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buckybabesonly · 7 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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sayyestoheav3nn · 1 month 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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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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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 · 1 year 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?

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maximumkillshot · 1 year ago

Text

I Got You

Warnings: Mentions of Self-Harm, Cutting and the Like, some mentions of blood, Fluff, Protective boys honestly

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Characters: Changbin, BangChan, Felix, OC Manager,

A/N: It's a comfort piece for @orchid-mantis-petals and everyone else struggling... You are a warrior... Don't forget it.

‘This is bullshit!” You scream as you walk into the dorm. Slightly startling the inhabitants.

Changbin rounds the corner to the living room where you just plopped, with creatine in hand, “You know hobbies are supposed to have the opposite effect on you, right, Jagi?” He knows you love doing your hobby. As much as you despise your job, if anything helps you, it's going out and indulging yourself.

This was your only off day in the last two months. As much as you hate it, you need to be an adult, your words, not his. Your boyfriend and his friends know that he has offered thousands of times just to quit so that you can find a healthier job for you mentally, he’d take care of you. You just looked at him and said, “Yeah, no. I need to do things on my own, Binnie.” But this is what he was talking about.

He put the supplement away and said, “Do you want to talk about it or give me an address so that I can put my muscles to good use?” as he sat, dragging you to his lap, “Because as much as I say I do it for the look, I do it to protect you. And someone hurt my Jagi so… You tell me who I need to beat up.”

You chuckled as you said, “They did it again…”

Bin took a big breath and hissed out, “When you say ‘it’ you don’t mean scheduling you for a shift without telling you… right?”Then he took a breath and said, “Because if they did that then I… I am going to need addresses Jagi.”

Chan heard the big entrance and walked in from the bathroom, one look at Bin and he said, “Oh no.. okay how bad. On a scale of 1-10.” You could see that he just got out of the shower, some beads of water still clinging to his shoulders, sweatpants neatly tied on his hips.

Bin just looked at him and said, “They did it again…”

Chan’s face soured, “Oh ok so 11. Y/N. We talked about this.” he said as he crossed his arms.

You see, this is a very common occurrence at your job. For some reason, they give you no notice and expect you to telepathically understand that you need to come in on your weekend. This pissed everyone off especially…

There’s a knock at the door and Felix just walks in… he takes one look at his Hyungs and he knows, especially with the frustrated tears that are now rolling down your cheeks. “What’s going on? What happened?”

He dropped the brownies he just baked in the kitchen and came back in. Bin wiped some of your tears away as he said, “They did it again.”

Felix is usually the nicest person in a room. His face however reflected nothing but disdain, “A day off is a day off…. How hard is it for them to get???” He wiped his forehead, trying to flatten the scowl he had on his face.

“Guys it’s okay.” You said, knowing that all they are going to do is worry about you more.

Felix looked at you and said, “Actually not it isn’t, Cinnamon Roll. It’s not fucking okay. Not when you work so hard for so long that you can barely get out of bed… That is not okay.”

Chan said, “Okay screw this nooope.” He went into Bin’s room then his own and then his own. He emerged with his hoodie on and he threw the keys at Bin. “You are not going through this anymore, Angel. We told you. Naur.”

You looked and said, “Guys.”

Bin gently said, “Listen to me, okay. We talked about this. If they ever did this again, you said yourself that you couldn’t do it anymore. We told you, we are not going to let this happen, and you agreed, did you not?”

“Yes”

“Ookay so we are going right now. You’re done working there. Let’s go.” Bin left no room for discussion as you four piled into the car. These boys have seen you through it all, including passing out from exhaustion when they forced you to work doubles, and others spraining parts of your body you didn’t know you could sprain. That’s the times that are passing through Bin’s head. He hated seeing you like that… for a paycheck?? He couldn’t fathom it. Not when he makes enough and has a bed for you, a home if you say the word. No, he was done watching his Baby getting hurt for something he has plenty of.

Chan was always worried sick about you. He knows about your history. He remembers the first times he noticed your scars. He didn’t pry, didn’t want you to feel bad. That made him fiercely protective of you. When you did tell him and you pulled up your right sleeve, he wanted to cry. He asked if he could touch it, and you said yes. He noticed some of them connected to make a pair of Angel wings. “Ah, you have the mark of an angel.” He traced it, “A warrior angel… You are so so strong… I’m gonna call you that, Angel.” Since then that has been your nickname.

Felix got so angry because he knew the trigger for you was emotion regulation, and while no one was watching you were digging into your right forearm with your left. He caught you once, 5 weeks ago. He had tears in his eyes as he helped you clean it. He asked you how long, what triggered it, and how he could help. He just wanted to help his Cinamon Roll. He went with you to tell Bin of the relapse and since then at least 3 times a week he’s at your place, helping take your mind off of the stress, even if it means him staying with you until Bin comes to yours.

He noticed in the car your left hand was scratching at the old scars again, he held his hand out and said, “hold my hand… I need affection.” as he fake cried. You giggled as you grabbed his hand, stopping the urge to fiddle.

As soon as the car stopped Bin hopped out and opened the door for you. When they walked in Bin knew who he was looking for as your manager glared at you and said “You’re late.”

Bin laughed as he approached them, “late for what? Another shift you didn’t tell them about?”

They were speechless, as he continued, “Do you know what they go through for you? I love them so much and all you do is hurt them… That stops today, okay. No two weeks notice, no nothing.”

Their jaw dropped and he said, “Oh doesn’t feel so nice does it? Not knowing if something was going to happen… Well your staff shortage, just got worse. If the last check isn’t in the mail on time, then we are coming back, and you will be dealing with 8 very pissed-off men who have a lot of connections and millions of people in their fanbase… Bad press wouldn’t begin to cover it. Okay? Am I clear?”

They just nodded and he said, “Good. Jagia, do you have anything you need from your locker?”

You said, “Yeah I do.”

Bin looked at Chan and he nodded, Chan switched out with Bin and said, “We’re going to have a little chat about leadership and manners. Okay?”

Bin went to you and escorted you to get your things. Once you have everything you both went back to the front and signaled Felix and Chan to fall back. You couldn’t explain the relief as you walked to the car. When Felix and Chan got in the car. Bin opened the door for you. Before you got in he kissed your scars and said, “I love you… all of you, it’s over, okay? I got you.” Tears started to paint your face as he kissed you. Before he started crying he guided you in and closed the door.

Right after he closed his door he said, “So I don’t know about everyone else but Y/N’s day is now free which means we go to their favorite pastry shop and get those Apple Cinamon Rolls and have a movie marathon. If you don’t like it too bad we are doing it anyway!!”

You started giggling as Chan cranked the stereo. You had a lot of things that you deal with yes, but this moment let you realize, that you weren’t going through it alone. Especially not with Binnie, Lixie, and Chan. ----------------------------------------------------------------

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@Fuckthinking, @feybin , @1-800-shedevil , @channiesbakery, @channieswhore , @hwangswhore , @seungminhour , @skzms, @angstraykids, @roseykat , @seventeenytiny , @dreaming-medium , @thunderous-wolf , @hanjsquokka , @moonjxsung , @diddybok , @fics-lovebot, @seungminssangel, @straykeedz, @tasteracha, @ven-fic-recs , @euphoric-univers, @camilagonzalex, @juskz, @antoniorhinothethird, @mariteez, @armystay89, @i-like-nougat, @yeonjunsfox,

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#Self-Harm #Cutting #blood..#skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids #for the love of comfort #warrior #changbin fic #changbin x reader #seo changbin #lee felix #bang chan #bangchan #bang chan imagines #bang

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smilingformoney · 13 days ago

Text

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 · 3 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.

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

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.

Taglist: Taglist: @somedayheaven @guelyury @elegantduckturtle @indiegirlunited @cheekychaos28 @ghostofzion @harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @littlemisspascal

#ashleyfilm #joel tlou #pedro pascal fanfiction #seeing clearly #joel miller plus size reader #joel miller #the last of us

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08melancholie · 23 days ago

Text

Honeysuckle and Whiskey. — Micah Bell/OC

CHAPTER 12 — Harmful Actions.

words: ~3k| AO3 LINK — MASTERLIST

a/n: sorry about the short chapter, been busy with school as of lately :')

warning: (Attempted, non-graphic) SA.

How do you distract yourself from the overwhelming feeling of taking an actual liking to an asshole, one such as Micah Bell?

You ignore him, act like he doesn't exist. At least, that's what Melody deemed would be the best way to go about this. It's three days past the night at the dock, and she hasn't let herself be seen by Micah since. These feelings were getting too strong, and she needed to shut them out—as fast as possible.

She busied herself with chores until there were none more left for her, or by going out on errands and hunting all day, anything to simply not see him right now. She knows she'd fold instantly if she did, and this was simply a safety precaution. Well; fuck safety, it seems.

While washing the dishes for Pearson on the fourth day since she's interacted with Micah, the devil appears.

"Melody."

Ooh, a shiver right down her spine. Here it comes.

Melody turns around to find Micah behind her, hip leaned on the nearby counter where Pearson—who is not here right now, smart of Micah to wait flor him to leave—usually cooks the meals, hands folded over his chest. "Micah." She answers with slight hesitancy, going right back to washing the plates in her hand.

Micah has been having his own crisis—long before the night at the dock. But, he never thought to outright ignore Melody, so he didn't exactly appreciate this sudden tranquility. "Why are you avoidin' me?" Straight to the point, no beating around the bush now.

"Sorry, been busy." She shrugs, as if he's that stupid.

A step closer and a hand on her shoulder that turns her around to face him. She's backed up against the sink, and Micah has a slight glare to his gaze. "Bullshit." He calls, and albeit correct, she doesn't exactly appreciate it. "You're ignoring me. Why?"

Melody sets the washed plate in her hand down. "Don't be childish, Micah—"

"I don't appreciate being ignored, then lied to." He cuts her off, his grip on her shoulder crinkling her shirt slightly. "What'd I do to upset you this time, huh?"

She scoffs slightly, her hand coming up to his forearm, trying to pry his hand off. "Nothing, jeez. Calm down, Micah." His grip doesn't falter once, in fact, it gets stronger.

He leans in closer to her, eyebrows furrowed so deeply they're almost touching. "Calm down?" He repeats with a scoff of his own. "Don't you tell me to calm down, girl." He hisses.

"Let me go, Micah. I don't want to talk about this now." Melody shoves his hand off, starting to get annoyed herself.

He huffs out a mocking snicker. "Oh, you don't? And I'm the childish one—yet you can't even talk this out like adults." He barks, hands falling to his hips now that she's forced them off herself.

Melody just glares at him for a moment. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"Not as much as you are, sweetheart." He retorts right back. "To think I.." He paused himself before scoffing and turning to walk away, leaving the scene with a scowl. Melody turns to the sink again, leaning over it slightly. She huffs and sighs, running a hand through her hair before deciding to just get finish with the dishes.

To think I... What did he mean to say? Melody wished she could have taken a different approach to this, because the tables have now turned on her. He ignored her in camp, refused any job that might include her—didn't even look her way once since their argument. Oh, but that was still mild compared to what he did just a week after the altercation.

Walking out of her tent one morning, Melody was met with the worst, most uncomfortable of gazes and sometimes even dirty looks, for no apparent reason. She hadn't been doing much but the chores in and outside camp, so the fact that everyone was eyeing her almost just as indifferently as the first day she was taken here—it had to have some sort of reason. So, she went to Dutch.

Knocking on his tent canvas and being let in, she takes a seat on his cot—looking up at an almost worried Dutch. "Okay, what is wrong with everyone, Dutch? What'd I do this time?"

The leader takes a quick breather, pulling up a chair in front of Melody. "Okay, listen..." He fidgets almost nervously with his gold ring, worrying Melody all the more. "We.. heard, from someone, that you.." Dutch stops to think of a way to word his sentence as to not upset her, but everything goes to shit when he lets his eyes slip towards her thigh, and Melody catches it.

"What? Why are..." She stops when it registers in her head, staring at the tent wall behind Dutch.

Dutch clears his throat and tries to keep the situation under control. "I'm sure.. this person.. didn't mean any harm, telling us about your.. you know—"

"It was Micah, huh? Fuckin' bastard—"

"Melody," Dutch takes a gentle hold of her forearm to keep her seated before she lashed out on him. "don't.. do anything."

She just scoffs and rips her arm away, standing up. "Oh, I'm sure he didn't mean anything with it but my goddamn safety." She mutters shakily to him, her breathing quickened slightly. It makes sense now; he just up and told everyone about the burning. Before Dutch could get another word in, Melody stormed out of his tent and went straight for Micah's own one.

She parts the flaps open without a warning, startling Micah slightly. "You told them? Are you kidding me, you bastard?!" She huffs as Micah sits up in his cot, looking up at her.

"Jesus Christ.. would you calm—"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down. Do you have any idea what you just did, for me?!" She hissed, stepping into his tent and up to him. "What were you thinking? This is a new low, even for you!" She adds harshly.

Micah definitely didn't expect it to get out so quickly, seeing how he drunkenly told just two people, but it seems he was wrong. "Would you just stop yelling, damn it?"

"I can't believe you..." She huffs quietly before raising her voice once more. "You're the biggest goddamn joke in this camp, you know that?" Micah goes in for another reply, but gets cut off by Melody again. "All that, over a fucking argument? Are you right in the head?!"

It's a yelling match, between Micah trying to get Melody to stop screaming by raising his voice, and Melody just yelling louder over him. It stops on Micah's end when Melody start full-on crying between her words, choking up sobs right in front of him. "Melody.. I.. you know I wouldn't—I was just drunk—" Micah's voice is all but heard, fully muffled by Melody now.

"You are.. a goddamn pathetic man. I.. I trusted you, damn it." She huffs, finally catching on to the fact she'd started sobbing. She wipes her eyes dry and mutters the last of her part, giving herself the last word. "I should have listened to them when they told me you were a cruel, selfish bastard." With the last sentence, she turns and walks right out of his tent, sobbing all the way to her own one without a care if anyone else saw.

Melody was a fool. A goddamn fool. How she didn't expect something like this happening was truly a stupid move. She's heard all the foul things about him, and she knew a good portion were all true—and look at her now. A sobbing mess, isolated inside her tent from everyone else. This was a real-life nightmare she was living in, and she saw very little way out of this. Last time, she stayed cooped up inside the tent. But no; this time, she's trying a different approach. After calming herself down as much as possible, she left her tent and got down to her chores, wanting them finished early so that she could spend her day outside camp, clear her head.

Those stares didn't bother her any longer—she ignored every single person giving her any type of different look, which left only the girls who sympathised with her and her struggle, even letting her vent about Micah and their argument. She spent the morning getting all her chores done before checking in with Dutch to let him know she'll be out of camp, and setting off.

CW: (Attempted, non-graphic) SA.

Rhodes was a fine town, quiet with a pretty nice community. Melody decided to stop there to stock up on a few things in the general store, and to buy herself some more ammo. First stop was the general store, where things went as smooth as expected. Though, of course, luck isn't always on her side—especially not today, it seems.

While making her way from the general store and towards the gun shop, she got yanked into the small alleyway between the two buildings, hand on her mouth and a gun to her head. "Knew it—it's the little German girl of Colms'." And at that, her heart stops. O'Driscolls. Of course they'd find her out one day, they weren't that stupid. With her body not at the old camp, something different to her death clearly happened. "Oh, he's been lookin' to get you back," He looks from Melody to his other O'Driscoll friend. "he always liked them youngins, clueless little things." Melody starts squirming, anything but to go back to Colm. She sees the Van der Lindes as family now, and she won't let herself be brought back to him again.

She stabs her boot spurs into the mans' leg, making his wince and grunt, giving herself the chance to get away from his grasp. But a bullet is clearly faster than a human. Just like six months ago while defend the O'Driscoll camp, a shot rings through the sky and theres a stinging in her leg—just this time, it's the opposite one. She instantly falls flat on her stomach and into the dirt, hissing and cursing foreignly. "Little bitch, 'ya think you're all smart, huh?" Footsteps come up behind her, still wincing from the pain in her leg. "I think 'ya need a lesson in obedience before you're brought back to the boss."

He kneels over her, and she stiffens when the man puts his hands on her sides. "Oh, yeah. We'll set 'ya straight for him." A hand clasps over her mouth to prevent her attempted scream as the man slips his other hand under her shirt, tracing up her spine. This is it. She can't imagine a worse horror than what is about to happen, clawing at the dirt underneath her to ground herself from just giving up and letting them have this. "Hold her legs, squirmy little thing." He commands the other man, who kneels over her ankles to keep her in place, with the other pulling her shirt up. Just as Melody is about to make more attempts at screaming, there's two random shots flashing in front of her, and she instantly ducking down as much as possible. The weight of the two men over her falters as they drop to the side, and Melody doesn't yet dare lift her head up.

"Melody, get up, girl. I'm here."

Oh, ain't that a surprise. Of course, the only person to 'worry' enough to come see her when she randomly decides to wander out—Micah goddamn Bell. Well... she isn't complaining, no matter how it sounds.

She lifts her head up when she feels Micah pull her shirt down over her bare back, looking at him through teary eyes. "You came... why?" She asks shakily, still not over what just happened a moment prior.

Micah gets her to sit up and looks down at her wounded leg, thinking. "Needed to apologise, and figured I'd.. follow 'ya so we'd get more privacy to talk." While explaining himself, he reaches up and undoes his teal neckerchief before carefully wrapping it around her wound, tightening it to lessen the bleeding. "I'm.. I'm glad I came."

Melody looks at him as he works on the wound, momentarily speechless. He really had the most bizarre timing. "Me too.." She whispers, subconsciously letting her tears streak down her face as she looked down into her lap.

Micah looks at her tear-ridden face and stands with a small, worried frown, holding his hands out for her to take. She does so a bit reluctantly, but complies nonetheless. He gets her up on her feet—or well, foot to be exact—and helps her get to Baylock. "You ain't in no state to be ridin' now," He gets her up on Baylock and whistles Anni over to follow his own horse, which he mounts up on behind Melody. She feels sick to her core, like she could throw up at any moment now. If Micah wasn't here today, things would have gone so wrong for her. The mere realisation is enough for her to break down completely.

She turns on the saddle to face Micah as soon as he starts riding, her lip quivering. "They were gonna.." She cuts herself off with a choked-up sob, and Micah instantly lets go of the reins with one hand, putting it around the cowgirl.

"Don't think 'bout it, Melody. I gotchu, girl.." He isn't the best at comforting people—never has been, really; but this was Melody, and this was goddamn terrifying for her. Her body shivered against his when he pressed her closer, letting Melody cry into his shirt and chest, even hugging him. He slowly rubbed her upper back while paying attention to the road and making sure Anni was following along, shushing her and trying to comfort her as best as he could. "They won't do nothin' to you, I promise. Not when I'm here." That was a really big promise he was making—but he truly believed it.

This really seemed to shake Melody up, as she cried for most the ride back to camp. It was a few minutes before they arrived to camp, already evening by then, that she had managed to exhaust herself so much she fell asleep. Micah got them both back safely, leaving Melody on Baylock while he hitched both horses up. When he finished he looked up at Melody, who was still sleeping in Baylock's soft mane. He carefully got her off and adjusted her in his arms. Jesus, Micah. This is not something he thought he'd be doing—ever. Carrying a woman, bridal style, to her tent? In front of the others? This was bound to cause even more gossip, worsening both their situations. Not to mention, Melody's tent was moved to be pretty much in the middle of camp, so for the people still awake at the campfire, they'd definitely see him.

But, they wouldn't notice Micah if he went straight for his own tent.

With a minute to prepare himself, he moved away from Baylock and Anni, hitched next to one-another, and heads to his tent with the sleeping Melody in his arms.

He pushed the tent flaps open with his elbow, first lowering Melody down on his cot. Yeah, this felt even weirder. He looked down at her, getting comfortable and snuggling up to his pillow in her sleep. Micah turned his gaze away when it started wandering just slightly more than it should have, and turned back to shut the tent flaps closed before stripping his jacket off. He drapes it over a chair, moving it to sit next to Melody, the chair next to the cot on the end where the pillow was. There's that, then. He looks down to her leg, seeing how her blood stained his neckerchief, the teal turning a dark-ish brown. He used the opportunity of her sleeping state to unwrap his accessory from her wound, grab any remaining gauze inside his tent and replace it with that, to ensure she wouldn't get worse. It was only until morning, she'd probably know to get it fixed up herself, so he didn't bother with much more. He sat back down, leaning back in the chair with a sigh.

This woman... she's doing something, and Micah isn't sure if he likes it more than it worries him.

As expected, Micah didn't get much sleep. He dozed off a few times, but could never keep it going longer than a few minutes. It was only once he got himself to actually fall asleep a few hours—before Melody woke him up.

It took her until the afternoon to wake up, grumbling into Micah's pillow. She could instantly tell it wasn't her own, because of the smell that came from it. Whereas hers had little to no scent, just a faint scent of a random, cheap perfume she bought herself—Micah's had a very peculiar, musky and tobacco-y smell to it. That was her first cue to lift her head up, just to be met with the dozing Micah right next to her. He was leaned back in the chair, arms folded across his chest with a really faint sound of his exhales and small snores. She blinked a few times, trying to recall how in the hell she got into Micah's own cot, and did so without him also inside it with her as well.

It clicked after a moment, and she remembered everything and how it all went down when she left for Rhodes after their argument—their second one. She slowly sat up on the cot, shuffling closer to him. Melody accidentally brushed her injured leg over the cot in a wrong way, wincing and hissing. This broke the light-sleeper next to her out of his slumber, rubbing his eyes before looking over. "Mornin'.. okay?" He gestures to her leg, and she can't yet reply.

She blinks at him wordlessly for a good minute, all the while Micah gets himself awake and out of his exhausted state. Finally, when he lifts an eyebrow at her, she speaks up. "Yeah.. yeah, thanks.."

Micah nods and gets up from the chair, pushing it back into its original spot and putting his jacket on. "I'd get out as discreetly as possible—we don't need even mo' gossip 'bout us, I reckon." He explains, walking to the entrance and turning back once more. "Can 'ya do it alone?" He asks.

Melody nods slowly, getting up from his cot. She stands on her injured leg with a small wince, instantly holding onto the cot to lift it off the ground. "Fuck.." She curses quietly, and Micah sighs. Before she can even react, theres a hand underneath the backs of her thighs, and another on her shoulder. She's swept off her feet with a small, surprised gasp, instantly clutching to Micah's shoulders. And, shes speechless again.

"Don't get any ideas, girl." He comments to her stunned reaction, peeking out of his tent before exiting with her, walking towards her tent.

She looks around for any camp member that may be out and see them. "I ain't getting no 'ideas', this just looks.. very odd." She hums, watching his face as he looks ahead, staring intently at her tent while walking over.

He walks into her tent and sets her down on her bedroll, turning to leave at that—when he stops and turns again. "Uh.. 'm sorry. 'Bout what I told everyone.. I was drunk 'n.. it was stupid of me." He mumbles, looking anywhere but down at Melody.

She, again, can only stare up at him for a moment. This is just.. too much. Micah helped Melody get home safely, let her sleep in his cot to prevent people talking about him and herself coming to camp late together, didn't sleep practically at all himself, and is now helping her and apologising. What the hell is going on? She's truly lost. "...Thank you. I'm.. also sorry, I said some rash things myself and.. we really should have just talked it out." She replies in agreement.

And that was all it took to avoid the unnecessary drama and gossip currently circling camp, most about Melody. She did forgive him, at least, she said she did. The energy was slightly weird between them still, but it wasn't overly awkward or hard to be civil. So, that's where they are now—back to being two civil members, bare-minimum and everything.

It'd be a while until everyone forgot about her little secret, now outta the bag.

Her leg has been taking a while to heal. So far, Dutch has been the only one to be told what went down in Rhodes, because he found out about Melody being shot. He just left her to rest for the remainder of the week, to both heal her leg until she can walk normally again and to process what's happened to her in Rhodes. And it was none other than Micah helping her throughout the day, whenever he could. Despite being bad at apologies, this little thing, he could do just fine to show how bad he felt about the whole situation.

"What, 'ya think Colm's lookin' for you, try'na get you back?" Micah looks up from the ground where he's kneeled down, inspecting her wound after four days have passed since that day out in town.

Melody nods her head in response. "One of 'em said it aloud, how 'Colm's been looking to get me back', so he knows I'm not dead." She mentions, looking down at him. "I assumed that'd be what they all knew, but I guess I was wrong."

Micah grunts quietly before he releases her leg and stands to his full height, placing his hands on his gun belt. "Does he know you're with us, though?"

"Doubt it," Melody replies, scooting aside on the cot like always, for Micah to seat himself next to her. "but I hope not; best not to add fuel to the fire, this feud Dutch has going on." She adds.

Micah nods in agreement, going quiet for a moment. "And.. we're good now too, right.?" He asks carefully, looking to meet Melody's eyes.

Melody looks over as well, her eyes falling to Micah's as he stands there, fiddling almost nervously with his belt. She's never seen Micah nervous—but it isn't so un-welcomed. She slowly reaches a hand out, gesturing for his own, which stuns Micah for a moment before he finds himself complying, taking Melody's extended hand into his. She smiles softly, squeezing his calloused digits with her own before she answers his question.

"I think we'll be good, friend."

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aithusarosekiller · 5 months ago

Note

fic recs, some positivity for your blog!!

(all on ao3, it's all i use)

"only the brave" by solmussa is genuinely my favourite fic ever (in my years of obsessive fanfic reading), it's got jegulus, wolfstar, dorlene, rosekiller, pandalily, amazing ocs (elspeth fawley my love my darling my beloved), MOONWATER FRIENDSHIP SUPREMACY, regulus being an evil (not actually) mastermind and literally i like fucking cannot. i cant even begin to describe how much i love this fic, 100/10 absolutely recommend reading if you haven't already [completed, 64 chapters, 645k words]

"go east" by xinasvoice is a wolfstar howls moving castle au, literally need i say more [completed, 11 chapters, 84k words]

"threes family" and it's sequel "eights company" by darkbluedark, im obsessed with marauders time travel fics if you couldn't tell [threes family is complete, 5 chapters, almost 20k words; eights company is a wip, 3 chapters, 15k words]

"the golden king" by maladaptivewriting, another time travel fic!! jegulus, wolfstar, drarry, regulus being a slayboss icon as per usual [wip, but already has 123 chapters and almost 500k words]

"like real people do" by arins_writings has jegulus, wolfstar, dorlene, time travel (yippie!!!), enemies to lovers, forced (ish) proximity and all sorts of shit that makes my autism happy [completed, 60 chapters, 201k words. sequel is a wip, 6 chapters, 16k words]

"into the dark" by phantomgrimalkin another time travel fic!!! wolfstar, jily, drarry, bastard rat ass motherfucker albus dumbledore [complete, 20 chapters, 88k words]

"(i will) wear you down" by rainiris is an amazing motherfucking concept, really slow updates but is absolutely worth it. jegulus, wolfstar, marylily, dorlene, past jily (and harry!), basically regulus fakes his death but james goes looking for him, the cutie patootie [wip, 18/32 chapters, 121k words]

"you only live twice" by drift99 is also really good, it's wolfstar, jily (jegulily later on ehehe), polyamory time travel bullshit (literally my favourite kind of bullshit). remus and hermione saving the world, underrated friendship tbh [completed, 47 chapters, 95k words]

"anti-hero" by rweoutofthewoods has jegulus, wolfstar, bamf regulus, moonwater friendship!!! regulus fakes his death, but remus finds him. platonic soulmates istg. also has marylily but it doesn't end well for them :((… [completed, 41 chapters, 237k words]

"dear your holiness" by mollymarymarie is basically, at it's barest bones, a wolfstar fleabag au. priest remus lupin, modern au, sorta-partly-kinda texting fic, very very sacrilegious, and a happy ending! [completed, 12 chapters, 142k words]

"saccharine" by moonymoment is a sweet little (maybe not little, but shorter than my usual 100k+ word fics) wolfstar modern ghost au! background jily, happy ending, basically sirius is a ghost that haunts remus' apartment and its really domestic

if you've read any/all of these pls lmk what you think i love to talk about the marauders

OMG HIIII

I also only use ao3 so don't you even worry 😭 ao3 is my baby I live there

THIS IS PERFECT TIMING bc i started only the brave last year big for some reason stopped? Idk if it was school work or something but I've been telling myself that this summer im gonna read it all the way through because I remember loving the writing and the story so I can't wait to sit and get all the way through it again. I've already seen so many spoilers but I'm gonna pretend I haven't 💀

I've been subscribed to the golden king since Reg's first Diagon trip and it LOVE IT SO MUCH 😭 the bond with Harry, the relationship with Sirius creeping back, the entire MESS with James. I love it. So good.

Okay about like real people do 😭 I SWEAR I MUST HAVE READ IT???? I love time-travel and I love Jegulus and I love long fics....and I SWEAR it rings a bell in my mind so tell me why I just went over to ao3 to double check and I literally cannot remember it 😞 maybe I read a bit then lost the tab???? Or started smth else and forgot to go back???? Either way it's going back onto the tbr bc why the hell would I not have read it all that's insane. Thank you for reviving my pea-memory so I can come back to this one 🙏

I LOVE ANTI HERO SO SO MUCH DUDE like I remember reading it last year and not putting my phone down until it was done, it's a PROBLEM. Whenever I think about reg lives I think about that even when I've read so many others with the concept it's just so...AAAAA. The desert scene of forever stuck in my mind for some reason idk 😭

I personally will probably not read the others (the people who know my blog could smell this coming, I see you) because wolfstar and jily aren't really my thing anymore (I dealt with a few elitist/aggressive fans over the years which has unfortunately just completely put me off being able to enjoy any content for them anymore :( still makes me sad icl) but!! I will tag it with them so all the people who DO love them can see these recs and go and read them if they haven't already because the premises look SO cool

#jegulus #starchaser #wolfstar #jily #marauders fic #marauders era #marauders

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illarian-rambling · 27 days ago

Text

Thanks for the tags @inkednotebook @museandquill and @verdant-mainframe!

OC Interview Tag

Rules: Let your ocs answer the questions below

Because they're metaphysically inseparable, let's answer for Rel and Redacted. For context, Rel is an angel created to defend Redacted, the former god of wonder, in his dying moments. Rel failed to do this and was cast to the world below by Redacted's murderer. Redacted is now bound to Rel as a ghost, however, Rel cannot hear or interact with Redacted in any way. With that convoluted explanation out of the way, let's get cracking!

Are you named after anyone?

Rel: "I made my own name, actually! I like the way it rumbles on my tongue."

Redacted: "False, you took half of my name, kid. My name which was erased by my bitch cousin. See, look ~~~~~~. ~~~~~~! Fucking nothing. At least you remember part of it, even if you don't remember who it belongs to."

When was the last time you cried?

Rel: "My eyes were all wet when I woke up yesterday morning. Esie said I must've had a nightmare. I... don't know what that is, but it sounds scary."

Redacted: "I don't have eyes. I guess I had three when I was alive, but those were mostly just for show, you know? Most of when a god breathes or cries or laughs is just for human benefit. Your teeny little brains don't like us in our true forms, so we gotta... translate a little."

Do you have kids?

Rel: "Those are the tiny ones, right? No, I don't, but they seem cute! Esie says Jean, Shay, and I are like her kids sometimes. Then she usually goes outside for a smoke."

Redacted: "Kids? The closest thing I have to one is talking to you right now. I don't usually make angels - never more than one at a time. Other gods have whole hosts and stuff to do their dirty work, but I've always preferred to keep a more personal relationship with mine. Except I can't really do that with Rel as I am now...."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Rel: "I want to! It's very funny, I've been told. I just have to figure out why that is exactly."

Redacted: "Take a wild fucking guess."

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Rel: "There's just too much. I notice their eyes and their clothes and their smile and their shoes. The first thing I try to learn, though, is their name."

Redacted: "I don't know, probably their surface thoughts? I can't see into the depths of anyone's minds or anything - if a god tells you they can, they're bullshitting you - but surface thoughts are pretty noticeable. Most people are a lot hornier than you'd imagine."

What’s your eye color?

Rel: "A dark gold, like brass doorknobs. I only have one eye, though. If I had another, I'd want it to be blue."

Redacted: "The bottom two were blue. The one on my forehead was gold."

Scary movies or happy endings?

Rel: "I don't know. I haven't seen any plays yet. Happier seems like it would be better, though."

Redacted: "Either depend on how well they're pulled off. A happy ending can fall flat if there's no substance in it - if it feels like a consolation prize that doesn't fit the character or story. Tragic endings fall into the same pitfalls. If something's tragic for only the sake of being tragic, then why do I have any reason to be invested? Examples of each can be found-"

Any special talents?

Rel: "My friends say I'm very good at runes. It's just like reading, though, so I'm not sure why they keep telling me I'd need decades of training to be able to know what they say. I'm also a great drummer! Jean says my solos 'fuck nasty style.'"

Redacted: "I'm a god. Other than that, jigsaw puzzles."

Where were you born?

Rel: "...It tasted like blood, that's all I remember."

Redacted: "Yeah, we're not getting into that."

Do you have any pets?

Rel: "Ugh, I wish.... Esie says rats aren't pets, but why are they so cute if they aren't?"

Redacted: "...Does humanity count? You guys are pretty entertaining sometimes."

What sort of sports do you play?

Rel: "What's a sport?"

Redacted: "Yes, beach volleyball! ...Dumbass, I don't have a body, and even if I did, why the hell would I use it to run around and get all sweaty?"

How tall are you?

Rel: "6'0" but my leg is a little crooked, so probably more like 5'10", but I'm also usually wearing my platform boots, so I'll go with 6'3"."

Redacted: "...I'm over this shit."

What was your favorite subject in school?

Rel: "I hope I can go to school someday. I bet I'd love learning proper mechanics and stuff. Oh, and music! And probably science too."

Redacted: "Tell you what, my favorite subject to see Rel try his hand at would be literature. Knowing him, all those stories are going to fill his head like nothing else."

What is your dream job?

Rel: "I really like what I'm doing now. Being in Jean's band, tinkering for my neighbors.... What else is there?"

Redacted: "Well, being a god again is kind of a lost option. Without that, I guess just being there for Rel. I wish I could talk to him. I wish I could be a real parent for him."

Ah, unrequited parental love.... I'll tag @wyked-original-writing @leahnardo-da-veggie @quillswriting @finickyfelix @mysticstarlightduck and anyone else who wants in :)

Blanks under the cut

Are you named after anyone? When was the last time you cried? Do you have kids? Do you use sarcasm a lot? What’s the first thing you notice about people? What’s your eye colour? Scary movies or happy endings? Any special talents? Where were you born? Do you have any pets? What sort of sports do you play? How tall are you? What was your favourite subject in school? What is your dream job?

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #oc interview

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youwouldntlietopapa · 6 months ago

Text

Insomnia

Rating: 18+

Features: Copia x OC (Isobel), Papa I/Primo, Papa II/Secondo

Tags: Insomnia, late night talks, idiots in love, mutual pining

(Also available on AO3)

_____________________________________________

Copia: [msg 03:12am] Are you awake?

Isobel: [msg 03:17am] Is everything okay?

Copia: [msg 03:18am] Insomnia again.

Copia: [msg 03:18am] Did I wake you up?

Isobel: [msg 03:19am] No, it’s okay.

Isobel: [msg 03:20am] Give me 10 mins.

Izzy nearly dropped her phone on her face, which definitely helped wake her up. No matter how many times she’d been told to just turn her ringer off at night, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not if it meant she might miss an emergency. Even one as small as a sleepless night. If it was him, it was important.

That’s what good friends do, isn’t it?

She swung her legs off the narrow bed in her small siblings quarters, scrubbing her face with her hands. Trying to shake off the remaining fog of sleep. It had been a while since he’d risked waking her up just because he couldn’t sleep. Those texts were reserved for nights when he was climbing the walls, increasingly agitated with every sleepless minute that ticked by. Usually when there was something on his mind, work or family or Ministry bullshit. She couldn’t blame him and she was, genuinely, happy to help. Too glad that she was the one he thought of when he needed help to worry about what sort and when. He trusted her enough to ask, that was all that mattered.

It just happened to matter in a way that made her heart feel like it might burst.

Focus, dammit.

Maybe changing would have been a good idea. Getting dressed in something other than the mismatched pyjamas she’d fallen asleep in. But she couldn’t be bothered. Besides, she reasoned, if she turned up dressed and wide awake, it would hardly help him fall asleep. Izzy did, however, grab her purse and her keys before crossing the Abbey to Copia’s quarters. Her bare feet silently carried her through the dark halls while she listened for anyone else. Not that anyone would care. But it wasn’t a conversation she felt like having either.

What am I doing up so late? Oh, just going to see if I can get my best friend to sleep. Not because I’m secretly in love with him. Only because I am such a good friend and this is a normal thing friends do. Which everyone knows.

Copia answered almost as soon as she knocked. The door flew open and he stood there, staring back at her, in his boxers and an old shirt. His worn out old robe that he refused to give up hung open and his hair was as wild as the look in his eyes. “... I did wake you.”

“Cope, I said it was okay.”

“But…”

She cut him off. “Do you want to get to sleep or not?”

His shoulders slumped and he whimpered. “Please…”

“Come on then.” Izzy held out her hand expectantly while Copia looked confused.

“Where?”

“Just trust me.” She smiled the way she always did when she had an idea.

But he took her hand, the way he always did, and followed her lead. Back through the halls and right out the front door. The night was cool and quiet. Not another soul around anywhere either of them could see. Although, the chances of there being a ghoul hanging around in the shadows was never zero, it didn’t seem like anything to worry about as long as they stayed in the shadows. The cement path from the door to the parking lot was cold underfoot, but Izzy ignored it. She wasn’t planning on being outside long. Besides, the air felt clean and crisp, and Copia’s hand was warm in her own.

Is it sad that this is better than being asleep, alone, in my bed? It’s probably sad…

Reluctantly she let go of his hand, only once they’d reached her car. A vehicle she lovingly referred to as the beater and steadfastly refused to replace. Copia had long maintained that the only thing keeping it from falling apart entirely was her own stubbornness. He did, however, have to admit that in all the time he’d known her, the car had never left her stranded. He also couldn’t remember a single time it had been to the mechanic, apart from getting the oil changed. Izzy nodded to the passenger door and walked around to the driver's side. Copia stared at her over the car roof, looking for some sort of explanation. She only winked.

“Trust me.”

“More than being out here, in my underpants, not knowing where we are going?” He smirked.

Izzy snorted. “When have I ever led you astray?”

“You want a list?”

She stuck out her tongue and opened the door. “Get in the car, Cope.”

The bench seat that took up the entire front was covered in a red velour and felt more like sitting on someone’s old couch than in someone’s old car. It also had the effect of making Izzy look even smaller than usual. She pulled the heavy door shut while it groaned in protest and waited for Copia to do the same. Although his door groaning was joined by his own groan. Once they were settled, she turned the key and just had to hope she wasn’t going to piss off everyone with quarters facing the lot. She did have the good sense, at least, not to turn on the lights until they were pulled out of her spot and halfway to the exit.

“So… eh…. Where are we going?” Copia asked as they turned out onto the road, headed away from the city.

“Nowhere.”

“.................. nowhere?”

“Mhmm.” Izzy kept her eyes on the road, not looking particularly worried. One hand reached for the radio, turning the volume down so low it could only just be heard over the hum of the engine, and set it to some public access radio. A sleepy sounding DJ popping in occasionally to introduce a song she’d never heard of by a band she couldn’t name, played on what was unmistakably vinyl.

“We are going nowhere. To listen to the radio. Because I don’t sleep?” He shifted in his seat enough to actually look at her.

“That’s about it, yeah.” She glanced over and smiled. “Listen, you want to get some sleep, right? And I want you to get some sleep. So all I need you to do right now is sit back, relax, and trust the process.”

“And you’re sure you don’t hit your head today or something?”

Izzy swatted his arm playfully. “Don’t ask me for help and then question my methods, Cardinal.”

“Si, nonna.” He teased, doing as she said anyway. Fussing a bit until he found a comfortable position. “... Izzy?”

“Yeah, Cope?”

“Thank you… for helping. I don’t mean to wake you. Really. But… thank you.”

Her hand slid across the seat to find his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “If you need help, that’s what I’m here for. Always. You know that. And I don’t mind being woken up. Really. Besides, if it were the other way around, I know you’d do the same.”

“Always.” He yawned, slouching a little more into the seat. “Anything for you, Isobel.”

As the car drifted along the dark road and the radio played something soft and slow, they slipped into a comfortable silence. There was no destination in mind, Izzy simply followed the route she knew would have the least traffic and no traffic lights. Listening as Copia’s breathing settled into a steady rhythm and finally turned to snores. Less than fifteen minutes and he was out like a light. She smiled triumphantly and decided to drive a while longer. Just to be sure he stayed asleep. A decision made considerably easier when he tipped over sideways, head resting on her shoulder, and continued to snore uninterrupted.

What am I supposed to do? Shove him off? Now that he’s finally asleep? Like some kind of monster? I don’t think so.

So she drove. Staring out at the road and trying to stay focused. The white lines whipped past the headlights in a blur and every reflection from the ditch might have been some animal making a poor decision about when to cross. Everything outside the pool of light in front of them vanished into the inky void of the night. She needed to stay focused on that. Not on the lingering smell of his cologne or the way his warmth seemed to seep into her skin to wind its way around her heart. Not the familiar weight of him there or the nagging thought that she would trade a thousand peaceful nights sleep for even one night being kept awake by that snoring.

Well… wish granted, I guess. Izzy sighed. Not exactly what I had in mind.

Still pretty good though. Copia snored again, murmuring something unintelligible, and the corner of her mouth turned up. He was ridiculous. In the best possible ways. And the best friend she’d ever had. No matter how else she felt, it didn’t change that. “I wouldn’t trade you for all the world.” She whispered, no louder than the radio.

Eventually, Izzy found a place to turn the car around, and headed back home. It was a little after four by the time she parked. The Abbey was silent and still, too early for even the earliest risers to be up. And the flaw in her plan slowly dawning on her as her eyes followed the path from the car to the front doors. To get Copia from where they were seated to his bed would mean waking him up. Waking him up felt a bit counterproductive after getting him to sleep. Which left her in a bit of an awkward situation.

“Fuck.”

Leaving him asleep in that position was out of the question. His back would already be grumpy from the amount of time he’d been like that as it was. He was also entirely too heavy to carry. At least the car seats were comfortable and, she supposed, if she could get him stretched out, sleeping right there was a viable option. The real trick would be doing it without waking him up anyway. Izzy chewed her lip and hesitated, giving in and reaching under Copia to unbuckle his seatbelt just to start.

One step at a time, she reminded herself.

Unfortunately, Copia took it upon himself to complete several more steps on his own. Despite Izzy’s frantic, whispered protests, his head slipped off her shoulder once he was freed from the confines of the belt and landed in her lap. He grumbled softly and curled himself up, quite content to keep his new pillow. Snaking his arm around her leg and hugging it tightly, cutting off any hope of a quiet escape to the back seat.

Have I not been a loyal servant, my lord? Have I not offered up everything I have to your glory?

She would have sworn there had been more than enough air in the car only moments before. But somewhere between him sleeping on her shoulder and sleeping in her lap, it had apparently all vanished. Izzy rolled down the window and took a deep breath of the night air. Trying to think about literally anything other than every daydream she’d had about a similar situation or how warm his arm was around her thigh or where his hand was. The universe was set on making fun of her, that much was clear.

“I swear,” she whispered. “If you are awake and this is a joke, I’m going to strangle you.”

Copia’s only response was another snore and a mumbled word that sounded a bit like “Cannoli.”

“Right, of course.” She huffed. “I hope you know you owe me one for this.”

Tipping her seat back, Izzy tried to get comfortable. If she was stuck, she could at least get a little sleep. Hopefully. Copia wasn’t having any trouble, clearly. Her fingers idly combed through his hair, one hand resting on his shoulder, and she closed her eyes. A tiny smile crept across her lips again and, for just a moment, she let herself enjoy it. Being close, being there, being lucky enough to have him in her life. Not despite all of the weirdness. Because of it. Because having someone she felt safe being weird with, who felt safe being just as weird with her, was worth more than anything.

“Goodnight, Cope.” She whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

I love you.

………….

Primo was up early. As was his habit. Preferring to be out in the garden before the Abbey had fully sprung to life. The newspaper tucked under his arm along with an ancient thermos, coffee cup in hand, he shuffled outside and took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. The sky was clear and the sun was only just peeking up over the high roof. It had all the signs of being a beautiful day. He hummed to himself, walking along the familiar path. Pausing here and there to pluck a weed or remove a damaged leaf. Smiling as the birds flitted about, singing back and forth. All the sounds of the garden that warmed his heart.

The birds and the bees and the wind in the trees and the….. Snoring?

He stopped in his tracks and strained to hear. No, that was definitely snoring. It wasn’t Secondo, that he knew for certain. If it were Secondo, he wouldn’t have needed to strain. Still, it seemed oddly familiar. Out of sheer curiosity, he followed the sound. Across the yard to the parking lot. Specifically toward one of the cars he knew well. But then, Isobel’s car was notably hard to miss. The windows rolled down to catch the breeze, the sound was definitely coming from inside. Primo stopped next to the driver’s door and stared down at his youngest brother, sprawled across the bench seat, dead asleep. Along with his other half. Whether he was ready to admit it or not. Though the way he was clinging to her thigh didn’t really leave a lot of room for interpretation.

Well, opportunities like that didn’t present themselves every day, and he wasn’t someone who often passed up a chance to torment his siblings a little. All he needed to do was decide on the best option. He grinned a little wider, a wicked glint in his eye. Yes, it certainly was going to be a beautiful day.

Meanwhile, Copia grumbled to himself as Primo plotted. The sun had crept up enough to get in his face and, after only a few hours of sleep, he was not ready to get up yet. Muscle memory kicked in before his brain had even woken up. Swinging at an alarm clock that wasn’t there. What was there happened to be the steering wheel. Or, more importantly, the horn. The horn of Izzy’s car, which was old enough to come standard with the pitch and volume of an oncoming train.

Copia screamed.

Izzy screamed.

Primo screamed.

His coffee cup and newspaper went flying and he grabbed the car behind him, trying to recover from the minor heart attack. Copia sat bolt upright, catching his head on the steering wheel in his rush, and let loose a string of Italian curses. Izzy caught her elbow on the sharp corner of the window crank and joined him in cursing, clutching her arm. And both of them turned to look at Primo, sleep fogged minds trying to put together what had happened.

“He couldn’t sleep!” Izzy blurted.

“Of course.” Primo smirked.

“We go for a drive! To relax!” Copia insisted.

“Right.” Primo nodded.

“That’s why we’re dressed like this!” Izzy flailed a bit.

“Makes sense.” Primo looked them both over.

“And why we sleep in the car!” Copia added.

“Mmmm, yes.” Primo bent down to scoop up his paper, trying to manhandle it back into a neat package. “I sleep better too, fratellino, with my head in someone’s lap.”

Copia’s eyes widened in terror, realising how he must have been sleeping and noting, to his complete horror, the drool spot on Izzy’s leg. “I-I-I…”

“And with someone who plays with my hair.” He gave her a knowing look.

“That’s not… I mean… It was just…”

Primo only nodded to them both. “Maybe you go inside before someone else has questions, eh? Everyone is up soon for breakfast.” He turned to collect his mug from the grass where it had landed with a thud. “Copia. Sorella.”

Both of them sat in stunned silence, watching him all the way to the corner of the building where he slipped out of sight. Silently grateful it wasn’t one of a dozen other people who would have been far less understanding.

“Isobel?” Copia finally broke the silence.

“Yeah, Cope?”

“Why are we still in the car?”

She turned to look at him. “........ You’re too heavy for me to carry inside.”

“Of course.”

“He’s never going to let that go, is he?”

“Never.” Copia agreed, cringing.

“Maybe we should go inside.”

“Si.”

Izzy rolled up the window and they both climbed out of the car. Stretching and groaning. No matter how comfortable the car seats might have been, they were not a replacement for a bed. Copia waited on the sidewalk for her to join him and offered his arm, trying to let go of the awkwardness, and settle into their usual routine and familiarity. She didn’t seem any more eager to let the embarrassment linger and he took it as a good sign.

Panicked rush to explain to his oldest brother aside, he was genuinely grateful that she’d gone out of her way to help. Even just dragging herself out of bed, he owed her for. Without question. But then, he’d lost track of how many things he owed her for. Not that she’d ever held it over his head or was someone in the habit of keeping score. He’d lost count of the number of times she’d told him that it always evened out in the end. She helped him, he helped her. That’s just how friends worked.

Friends. He thought again about the spot of drool on her leg and where his head must have been. It sparked off another rush of embarrassment, and something else as well. Something he would certainly need to attend to once he was back in his own quarters. It didn’t mean anything. You were asleep. And if she were upset, she’d have shoved you off. It’s Izzy, she’s never held back before. At least she wouldn’t be walking back in with you. Right?

“Are you okay?” Her voice broke through his thoughts and Copia looked back at her. “You seem distracted.”

“Si. Si. Forgive me, just a bit foggy still.”

“It’s early. You ought to get a few more hours sleep while you can.” Her hand gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

“So should you, Isobel. I keep you up half the night.”

Izzy only rolled her eyes and nudged him. “Right, you really twisted my arm. Cruel man, coming to drag me out of bed and demanding I help.” She teased. “Definitely not me getting up and coming to help because it was my decision.”

“You still need more sleep.” He couldn't argue the rest, but that much was true.

“I will if you will.”

“Deal.” He nudged her back and pulled the door open for her.

The halls were still relatively quiet. But Primo was right, people were getting up and it wouldn’t be long before the Abbey returned to the usual hive of activity it was. Copia stopped at the intersection of hallways where they typically parted ways. An intersection he’d gotten in the habit of avoiding any other time. It was a loathsome spot as far as he was concerned. A spot for saying goodbye and watching her leave. Taking his heart with her.

While you stand there like a fool, again, and let her go.

Her hand drifted down his arm to take his own and she turned to face him. His heart ached from the touch and some stupid, mindless part of him wanted to cup her face in his hands and kiss her until the morning bells rang. Instead, he only smiled and bent to kiss her hand.

“You will meet me for breakfast later?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She paused, he could see the hesitation. Too long knowing her to miss it. “... I’m glad you messaged me. Whatever worries you might have about it, I need you to know that and remember it. I would feel so much worse if I heard you’d had a miserable night that I could have helped with, and I didn’t. Understand?”

“Isobel, I-”

“Understand?” She looked at him pointedly.

“Si.” He smiled a little sheepishly. “Understood.”

“You’re allowed to ask for help, Cope. You deserve to get the help you need. And I swear I will get it through that thick head of yours if it kills me.”

He snorted and shook his head. “That might take a very long time.”

“Important things often do.” Izzy stretched up to quickly kiss his cheek, the way she’d done a hundred times before, and slipped away down the hall. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Copia stood and watched her go, wondering if he’d ever been so grateful for a bout of insomnia before. Please, my lord, if I could only have a sign…

“Copia.” A voice boomed.

“My lord?” He squeaked.

“Turn around, Copia.”

Copia whipped around as instructed and there, staring at him like he’d finally lost all of his marbles, was Secondo.

“Che cazzo stai facendo?”

“I was just… going back to sleep.”

“In your bed, I hope.”

“Si! Si. Just… going… Now.”

And, with that, he dashed off down the hall. Leaving Secondo to question, once again, if he shouldn’t just retire completely to some quiet villa, overlooking the ocean, without a single brother within a hundred miles.

_______________________________________________

“Che cazzo stai facendo?” = What the fuck are you doing?

#ghost fanfic #copia x oc #Isobel #MDNI

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balaurbondoc316 · 6 months ago

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woooo Rain World Iterator OC, his name is Absence of Bitter Oranges and heeeeee's miserable. He was just supposed to be an entirely silly shitpost OC but uh he ended up with Lore, which I will put under the break. TW for abusive and unhealthy relationships, references to cannibalism, murder, emotional manipulation, and unhealthy coping mechanisms

I really hope Tumblr doesn't kill the formatting lol

- Had a fucked up series of “relationships” w/ a string of admins, nothing was ever explicitly nonconsensual but due to power imbalances and the culture surrounding how iterators were viewed in general always made him feel he wasn't “supposed” to say no, even if he wanted to (was never fully aware that’s why he kept saying yes)

- He’s not really aware that what happened to him was bad or abusive, as his only knowledge of abusive relationships comes from common knowledge/ media where whats shown is on the extreme ends of the spectrum where the victim always hates whats going on and where the abuser is really obvious about it, which wasn’t his situation at all

-there were times where he really did enjoy it and where he was the initiator, and also times where his admins where genuinely nice to him, so he figures he couldn’t have “actually” been abused- and comes up with excuses for when that wasn't the case as a coping mechanism

-very complicated emotions about this that he was never given the tools or knowledge to process, simply chooses to not think about it--- figures that since he wasn’t (in his mind) being abused, the reason he feels bad about what happened is just because he’s bad...

- the concept that the society and circumstances he was born into (and had no control over, and couldn’t have really done anything about) are actually at fault is too terrifying to think about (would be forced to contend w/ lack of autonomy and the fact the very nature of his existence in the first place is an act of violence against him, + The Futility Of It All) so it’s easier to just blame himself and then Just Not Think About It

Once tried to talk to his group senior about it when it was going on, but due to him not really understanding what was happening himself (and not having the words to describe it even if he did) his group senior didn’t realize what was really going on (got the wrong idea) and ended up getting both Oranges’ admin and Oranges in trouble for what was going on, making the whole situation (esp. the self blame) That Much Worse

This all resulted in a lot of self- loathing that would cause him to lash out, leading others to reject and block him, which would cause even more self loathing in a vicious cycle (+ resulting isolation making it worse)

Has a bad habit of sabotaging his own relationships from lashing out due to all of this

desperately seeks attention due to loneliness, whenever he finds a new group who don’t know who he is he’ll often start out with trying to talk about outrageous things (usually about Horizons Group nowadays, since talking about them allows him to be the sympathetic one in the situation) to get people to react and talk to him more.

Gets really snippy when he’s scared or overwhelmed as a coping mechanism, this happens incredibly often due to his general anxiety levels, resulting in him generally being seen as mean

Also has a tendency to overshare in order to get reactions or tries to talk over others in order to steal attention

Both of these things combined generally make him come off as really annoying to talk to, resulting in others generally disliking him

One reaction to this is to find members of the group with less power and kind of become their white knight in a sense, since this makes him feel both powerful and helpful and gets him a “friend” that is more likely to put up with his bullshit and defend him from others (and is dependent on him for validation)

He is also, unfortunately, terrified of being seen in a bad light (more so than usual, anyways), so the moment he thinks the general consensus is tipping from “yeah he’s the resident Mean Guy (gets people to argue with him, which is at least a form of interaction)” to “Yeah this guy sucks, we should ban him”, he will absolutely throw his “friends” under the bus to save himself (or at least as a distraction)

All of this combined usually results in him ending up driven out of or banned from group chats, with a lot of people that actively hate him

Incredibly isolated after Mass Ascension, even his local group won’t really talk to him, stewing in his own regrets and wishing he could be someone else without really understanding why he is the way he is or how to Stop Being That Way

In comes Horizons Group, who where the first to reach out to him instead of the other way around, which he hates since it means he’s not in control of the interaction

this is compounded by the fact that he literally can’t block them, giving him even less control (+similarity to his admins)

On the other hand, the fact that they simply refuse to stop talking to him means they are the only actually stable connections he has in his life, and will at least listen to him vent whenever another one of his social connections implodes (+ similarity to his admins)

Plus, how awful Horizons Group is makes him feel better about himself in comparison

Beyond Endless Horizons, in particular, likes to pester him

BEH tells him that the way he is isn’t his fault, that it’s his administrators fault, that they’re the bad ones (and what was done to him was wrong, and shouldn’t have happened)

And obviously that can’t be true, the ancients were the good ones, He’s the bad one, BEH is just trying to trick him into being Even Worse for his own amusement, obviously

(but the idea is so tantalizing, that his pain isn’t his fault…)

(but if that were true, what would that say about his existence, and the people who “loved” him? So it can’t be true… Right?)

BEH tells him that, if he just joined Horizons Group and let them remove his taboos- modify his can to be Better- let him be free- he could finally be happy, and that BEH would finally be the group senior that takes care of him, and stick up for him, no matter what, like he deserves.

And obviously BEH is lying when he says this, he really just wants to have access to his mostly- still- functional naval ports

(Oh, but what if he’s not? After all, they’ve stuck with him this long, even after he’s been so awful to them…)

(and even if it is true, would it really be so bad? Horizons Group seems so happy…)

(But then he’d become even worse, and he’s already so bad…)

BEH tells him, when he is at his lowest, and has been (rightfully) removed, run- out, banned, from yet another group of would-be friends, and has no-one else to turn to other than his tormentors (can he really even call them that, after everything?), that he will always be this way if he doesn’t let BEH help him. That he deserves this, if he refuses to let himself be helped.

And obviously that is true, even if (if?) BEH is lying about wanting to help.

(But would it really be so bad if he just… Gave in? After all, whats the point of trying to be better if he simply cant be? Sure he would become worse, but at least he might not hurt so bad, and Horizons Group seems to like him- at least, they haven't rejected him, despite having seen his worst…)

(But the part of him that Remembers the worst of his administrators, the part of him that does not know how to name or even think about itself, is terrified BEH- of being trapped again, even if he is not aware of it enough to name it)

and so he still rejects the offer, and tries to reach out to anyone, anyone else who’s still out there to abate the loneliness…

One day, Four Lines Horizontal asks for a favor.

He wants the access codes for his local groups gates- especially the ones for the cities.

They say they just want to scrounge the cities for any archives to plunder. His local group probably won’t even know he’s there! It’ll be perfectly fine.

Oranges knows he should say no. He knows what Horizons Group is like, that Lines is probably lying and wants something more nefarious…

But then, it is plausible. Lines is known to hoard knowledge- and after all, it’s only his puppet that can get across the oceanic tram line, and certainly no army (that’s why BEH wants access to his naval ports, after all).

And Horizons Group has been- well- not nice per se, but certainly nicer than his local group as been…

It should be fine, right?

Oranges gives Lines the codes.

A few cycles later, his group senior forces a group call- one of their group members has suddenly stopped responding to messages from her, and there is strange activity coming from her can. Has anyone gotten in contact? Or managed to send any overseers?

No one has. Oranges remains curt, and quiet.

Another few cycles later, and another of his group members has gone silent, and his group senior is beginning to panic.

Except this time, there is an overseer that manages to get into his seniors can- damaged, and forced to manually deliver the data.

A single image, of slightly lower quality than normal, but still legible: An absurdly large red centipede with a far- to- humanoid form at one end, and what appears to be some awful amalgamation of a spitter spider and a noodlefly, bent into the shape of a person.

Oh, Oranges thinks, Smoke is here too.

OHA: oh Void below, is that Horizons Group??? How did they even get over here???

GCFS: Isn’t Absence the one that controls the tram line to them???

GCFS: Absence, did you LET THEM IN??????

OMUE(GS): ABSENCE WHAT DID YOU DO

Oranges puts his can on communications lockdown.

Not that that stops his group senior from forcing her messages through:

OMUE(GS): Absence, as your group senior, I demand you tell me what hand you had in this. This is an order.

OMUE(GS): Absence. What. Did. You. Do.

AOBO: He said he was just going to be looking for pearls. How could I have known THIS would happen?!

OMUE(GS): AND YOU BELIEVED HIM????? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????

OMUE(GS): Sunlight and Glass are probably already dead! You fucking idiot!

OMUE(GS): Oh stars above, you’ve always been a Karma-broken piece of shit haven’t you. Did you actually WANT this to happen???? Was all this ON PURPOSE????

OMUE(GS): ANSWER ME YOU BASTARD

Not that she can force him to actually read them.

(he curls into a corner of his chamber and Waits. He knows they will stop coming eventually)

(it seems to take a long time.)

About six months later, the last of his groups cans (sans his own) collapses, having been stripped of anything useful and their puppets spirited away across the ocean.

He forbids his overseers from the tram area. He couldn’t bare to see the most valuable- or nutritious- parts of their corpses loaded onto the tram, countless times over.

He couldn’t bare to see if their puppets where still aware- if they were still alive.

(although, he deeply suspects- with some of the comments Smoke has made- that they are.)

Not that that stops him from allowing the tram to run.

Later, he will refuse to talk about it.

He tells himself it’s due to the guilt.

He tells himself that the terror he feels is because he doesn’t want to face it.

He tells himself that he refuses to think about it because he would drown in the tidal wave of it, and no other reason.

(on his worse days, when BEHs offer seems the most tantalizing, he admits to himself he’s not scared of the guilt.)

(he’s scared of the fact he feels no guilt at all)

(he’s scared of the fact he’d do it again, with no remorse)

(he’s scared of the fact that this proves he’s already just as bad as Horizons Group, and can no longer use that as an excuse to refuse BEHs offer)

(at least then he’d be with fellow monsters. At least then he wouldn’t be so alone.)

(but still that part of him that Remembers kicks and screams and wails whenever he considers saying yes, still so terrified of having to go through it again.)

(and so he continues to reach, for anyone, anyone else…)

(but that part of him has become so tired, and being stuck with Beyond Endless Horizons is what he deserves)

Far away, across the ocean, The Graviton patiently sits in his chamber, a golden pearl and a set of administration keys close at hand.

He will have those ports, he just needs to be patient.

Oranges will become desperate enough, eventually.

It’s not like the little shit hasn’t dug his own grave.

It’s not like he doesn’t continue to dig it.

He doesn’t even have his local group to fall back on.

Not anymore, at least. Ha!

No, it’s only matter of time until Oranges gives in and allows himself to be saved.

Until he gives in allows himself to be fixed, allows himself to be surrounded by fellow gods who will actually love him, allows himself to not be controlled by the bugs beneath his feet, but properly worshiped by them, as he deserves.

Only a matter of time before he can save the world, and every god in it.

“And won’t that be a glorious day, Absence?”

#rain world #rainworld #rw iterator oc #rw oc #iterator oc #rain world oc #this guy was supposed to just be the sillay but apparently I'm incapable of making silly little guys without giving them tragic lore #Absence of Bitter Oranges (OC)

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