#he however would think himself selfish and he would fault himself ya see | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chiliiscereal · 4 years

Note

Here’s your GIF for the writing challenge!

Prompt: “It’s not safe to be out here by yourself.”

Good luck and thanks for participating!💛

Thanks for letting me do this challenge again @crossbowking !

Pairing: father figure Daryl x reader AGAIN cause I’m a sucker for that lol

Setting: season 2

Type: fluff and angst I guess?

Summary: when looking for Sophia, Daryl finds reader holed up in a cabin. Reader doesn’t speak, doesn’t listen, and doesn’t trust them at all. No one can figure out why but reader sticks with them anyway. One day, Daryl follows reader when they sneak out of camp, hoping to find out what could possibly have happened to make them like that

——————-

Silent world

Sophia’s tracks had begun to fade like the afternoon sunlight. They had gotten faint but Daryl didn’t want to tell Carol the truth. Eventually they disappeared and he was only left with a direction.

He found a set of footsteps the size of Sophia’s about thirty minutes later. It had to be her. Judging by how they weren’t set in one specific direction, whoever it was must be lost.

He followed the footsteps to an old cabin. She had to be in there.

You, however, hadn’t realized you were followed until the door was opened. You felt the thumping of cautious footsteps on the floorboards and immediately jumped into action. You pulled yourself from the floor quickly and hid yourself beneath the dusty bed in the corner, dragging the blankets down to obscure you from their vision. If there was one thing you’d learned in this new world it was that you couldn’t trust people. Strangers, family, doesn’t matter.

“Sophia?” Daryl called out as he peered around the corner cautiously. He glanced about the room, taking in the living conditions.

Old food wrappers...

Empty water bottles...

A few blood stains...

An old backpack that CLEARLY wasn’t Sophia’s...

Whoever had been there it wasn’t Sophia. They’d been there longer than the girl had been lost.

He tightened his grip on his crossbow. “Whoever’s in here better come out now.” He ordered.

The only response was a slight shuffling noise from under the bed. If it had been Shane or Rick they wouldn’t have heard it. But Daryl had been hunting out in the woods since he was a child, trained in hearing the sounds of hiding creatures.

Whoever they were they were alive.

“Gonna hide forever?” He growled, raising the crossbow so it pointing at the bed.

Nothing.

He was absolutely tired of this person acting like their cover hadn’t been blown.

“Get out before I drag ya out myself.” He ordered, stepping closer.

Still nothing.

Finally, he had enough of it. He reached over and pulled the blanket away from the floor. He waited... thinking they’d come out.

No movement at all.

He grabbed the bed by its headboard and shoved it away from the wall, causing a small gasp to come from underneath it.

You were no longer in darkness.

You opened your wide eyes and backed up against the wall, chest heaving with panic.

This man looked dangerous to say the least.

Mean expression.

Weapon out and pointed at her face.

Knife hanging at his belt.

Suspicious blood stains on his shirt.

“You gotta be shittin’ me.” He groaned. “I go out lookin’ fer one kid and then I find a different one?”

You didn’t respond. You just watched him with wide eyes.

“Ya seen another girl ‘round here, kid?” He asked, trying to calm down.

Still nothing. You just pulled your legs closer and tried to press closer into the wall.

“Got a family?” He interrogated with a firmer tone. “A group? Parents? Hell, even a weapon?”

You watched him carefully. Almost too carefully in Daryl’s opinion. Once he’d finished you shook your head, eyes drifting back to the crossbow in his hand.

He hadn’t even realized it was still pointing at her. He lowered it but still kept the weapon in his grip. “The hell am I ‘sposed to do now?” He asked himself out loud. “Don’t need another mouth to feed.”

You didn’t offer any suggestions. All you did was stare.

After a moment he groaned, his morals speaking louder than the selfishness of a survivor. “Damn it. C’mon. Get up.” He waved you to follow after him.

You shook your head, backing away. You didn’t know this man! He could hurt you! Do bad things! No way in hell would you willingly go with him.

He frowned. “Can’t ya talk?”

Nothing.

Just wide eyes.

“Listen, I’m ‘bout to leave yer ass alone in the woods if ya don’t give me a good enough reason why ya can’t.” His temper began to flare. “Got a group, got food, got water, an’ other kids. Seems like a pretty good deal ta me.”

You seemed to react to the word ‘kids’. You sat up a bit and seemed to watch him with interest.

“Yeah. We got another kid at our camp.” He nodded. “It’s safe.” He swore he was about to leave right then when you said nothing.

You looked down at the floor, thinking. Was this a good idea? He could easily be lying. Very easily. He seemed to know exactly what to say. That was dangerous. Very dangerous.

But other kids... safety... and water... that was something you hadn’t seen in a good long while. Might as well give it a try, right? You could always run if things went south. You were good at that.

Needless to say, Daryl was surprised when you pulled yourself off the ground and picked up your bag. You gave him a wary look but followed him anyway.

“So, ya ever talk?” He asked as the two of you walked through the woods.

You didn’t answer. You just surveyed the woods carefully. He could have men out there waiting to jump you and do bad things. Or there could be walkers. You didn’t know.

Your racing thoughts were interrupted by a tap on your shoulder, flinching you out of your state of mind.

“Gonna answer me or what?” Daryl asked, getting more and more frustrated.

You just frowned at him, unsure of what he was saying. He was talking too fast for you to follow along with it.

“I asked if ya ever talk.” He shouldered his crossbow, no hope whatsoever in you answering.

All he got in return was a shrug.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He sighed. Whatever. At least he’d be able to walk to the farm in silence.

—————-

When they arrived everyone was confused on who you were or where you came from.

The people living in the farm house asked you many questions and you could only catch a few words here and there.

Where

Who

Name

Girl

Sophia

Seen

Group

Woods

You just stared at the floor, unsure of how to respond.

“Is there something wrong with her?” Maggie asked quietly. “She’s not answering anything.”

“Been like that since I found ‘er.” Daryl shrugged. “Ain’t sure ‘a her name, family, or if she even got anybody.”

“Where’d you find her?” Lori frowned. “Surely she has parents somewhere out there.”

Daryl wanted nothing more to leave and return to his tent. But he answered anyway. “Was in a cabin. By the looks ‘a it it’s just her.”

“Sweetie, can you tell us your name?” Lori bent down so she could see your face. “Or where your parents are?”

Your eyes didn’t leave the floor.

Lori sighed. “It’s almost as if she can’t hear me.”

“Or don’t want to.” Shane snorted, leaning against the wall. “Kid doesn’t seem too happy to be here. Probably just thinks ignorin’ us is gonna make us mad or some shit.”

“Damn right it’s makin’ me mad.” The hunter watched the kid in front of him. “Can’t tell if it’s on purpose.”

“I’ve heard ‘bout kids shutting down an’ not speak in’ when they’ve been through somethin’ traumatic.” Hershel informed the group. “It could be like what happened to Beth earlier, an’ it’ll just take some time for her to come around.”

That was the answer everyone seemed to settle on.

They gave you time as well as plenty of opportunities to talk to them. They tried asking questions or telling you things but you didn’t respond no matter how hard anyone tried.

Daryl began to suspect what the real case could be when you didn’t even respond when Shane yelled at you.

He’d been trying to hurry up the process by forcing you to talk. When he got no response he finally snapped.

You’d been reading a book Maggie let you borrow, unaware that anyone had been talking. But you caught on quickly when the book had been slapped from your hands.

You gasped and stumbled away, face to face with an angry Shane.

You weren’t close to anyone in the group so you ran to the person who had brought you there, hiding behind Daryl.

Daryl had been surprised. He didn’t think you liked anybody there at all. After all, you never talked to anybody. Never answered any questions. Being there for five days hadn’t changed anything.

“The hell’s yer problem man.” Daryl growled. “Ya always go ‘round tryin’ to scare kids or what?”

“It’s not my damn fault she won’t talk.” Shane yelled. “She’s gonna learn some respect if she wants to stay here.”

“Yellin’ at her won’t get ya any damn respect.” Daryl bit back. “Hershel said it’d take time, didn’t he?” He glanced down at you as you hid your face from the fight.

“It’s takin’ too much in my opinion.” Shane rolled his eyes and turned to walk away.

From that day on you steered clear of Shane and stayed by Daryl’s side. He wasn’t too sure why you’d chosen him out of everyone else and neither were you. But it seemed to be the right choice. The man never forced you to talk. He never yelled at you when you didn’t react.

It seemed like he simply enjoyed peace and quiet.

You helped around the farm house by washing dishes and feeding chickens. You helped Maggie and Lori make dinner and always helped them clean up after.

You picked flowers for Lori.

You showed Carl how to climb a tree.

You played cards with Glenn.

If Daryl didn’t know better he’d say that you were enjoying your stay at the farm.

But you still weren’t talking.

You interacted with everyone, yeah, but you still never spoke.

Not even when the farm fell.

—————

You and everyone had spent almost a month out in the woods once the farm was gone. You bounced from house to house and never stayed in one spot longer than needed.

One house you stayed at, you found a pair of small batteries. Even wire and tweezers. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give you hope.

So that night you snuck out to the back yard once you were sure everyone was asleep.

But everyone wasn’t.

Daryl wasn’t.

He’d noticed the moment you disappeared.

He’d gotten up and walked outside, crossbow in hand. Maybe you’d ran away. Or got taken. Maybe you went outside and gotten lost.

But he found you leaning against a tree instead.

“It’s not safe to be out here by yourself.” Daryl stated, even though he knew you wouldn’t respond.

You did however react to feeling his footsteps vibrating the ground. Quickly, you stuffed whatever had been in your hands into your pockets and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Damn, kid, I ain’t gonna bite.” He held up his hands in surrender. “The hell ya doin out here?”

As always, you didn’t say anything. You looked back at the forest floor almost guiltily.

“Somethin’ wrong?” He frowned.

You knew you should tell him. He’d proven himself trustworthy after all. You just... you were scared you were wrong. That he’d be just like every other adult I. Your life.

“What’d ya have in yer hand before?” He tried, gesturing to whatever you’d stuffed in your pocket.

You tore your gaze away from him and reached down to pull out an object wrapped in cloth.

Daryl sat down beside you. “Can I see it?”

You held it a bit closer, brain still thinking in circles.

“I ain’t gonna break it or nothin’ if that’s what yer worried about.” He rolled his eyes.

Finally your mind was made. You set it down in his hands and waiting for his reaction.

Carefully, aware that you were watching his every movement, he unwrapped whatever it was.

He didn’t know what it was at first. It was almost as long as his smallest finger and was colored silver and tan. He realized what it was when he finally turned it over.

“Hearin’ aids?” He asked, turning to you.

You took a deep breath and nodded. “D-deaf.” You spoke, nerves at how he’d react making you stutter.

He jerked back a bit in surprise. “Ya been deaf this entire time?”

Another nervous nod.

“Damn, that’s impressive.” He gave you a sort of half grin. “How’d no one catch on? An’ why didn’t ya tell nobody?”

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a notebook, scribbling on a couple sentences. You showed him once you were done.

‘Lip reading. And I didn’t trust you.’

“But why didn’t ya talk like ya did now?” He frowned. “I wouldn’t ‘a known the difference.”

You wrote down more, hesitantly.

‘I’ve been told I sound stupid when I talk. So I don’t.’

You fiddled with your shoelace as he read.

“Who the hell told ya that?” He practically growled. “And why don’t ya know any ‘a that sign language?”

You took the notebook back and wrote down a few more sentences.

“And why don’t ya use the hearin’ aids?” He added.

You turned the book back to face him, only one word written.

‘Dad’

You felt ashamed to be admitting this. This wasn’t anything he needed to know. He would probably react the same way your dad reacted when he was given the opportunity.

“Hell no yer gonna explain more than that.” Daryl pushed the book back into your arms. “Can’t just half ass an answer.”

You sighed and began again.

‘He thought being deaf was a weakness. No sign language, no hearing aids, and no talking the moment my mom turned. He broke them when I broke the rules.’

You swallowed the emotions rising back up in the back of your throat.

He was a horrible man.

It was sickening, but you were almost glad that he was gone.

Daryl’s expression darkened when he read those words. “Sounds like an ass to me.” He handed the notebook back to you again. “So you tryin’ ya fix ‘em?”

You nodded and pulled out the batteries and wire, shrugging.

Daryl sighed. “Sorry, but that won’t be enough to fix these.” He examined the hearing aids once more. The wires were pulled apart and some of the plastic had snapped.

“... I know.” You managed to speak again, summoning your bravery. “Just wanted to try.”

Daryl’s expression didn’t change when you spoke. Maybe your dad was wrong. Maybe you didn’t sound as stupid as he told you you did.

Daryl handed the hearing aids back to you gently. “M’sorry kid.”

You shrugged again, placing them back in your pocket carefully.

Suddenly, Daryl had an idea. I’d require a run for sure but it’d be worth it. For now, he’d keep quiet about it. He didn’t even know if it’d work. But he might as well try.

——-

For the next few weeks on the road Daryl was on every run. You were curious about why but you dismissed it as him trying to make sure everyone would survive the coming winter.

By now, everyone knew you were deaf. They all reacted as Daryl had and treated you the same as they always did.

It was relieving to be honest. And a bit of a surprise. But the bigger surprise came later when Daryl told you he wanted to show everyone something in the woods.

You’d followed along, assuming he’d found more supplies.

Instead of revealing more supplies, he knelt down so he was at your level.

“I know it’s been hard without yer hearin’...” he started, reaching into his back pocket, “an’ I hope ya don’t mind I did this without askin’...” he pulled out an object wrapped in a familiar cloth.

You realized what was happening the moment you saw it.

“I gave it my best shot.” He pulled away the fabric and revealed the newly repaired hearing aids. “Found a book an’ some supplies on the last run.”

You hadn’t even realized tears were running down your face until they dropped onto your shirt.

Daryl reaches over and placed the hearing aids in your hands. “Give ‘em a try?”

You glanced at the faces of your new group. They must have known. Not a single one of them looked surprised. Just expectant and...happy. Happy for you.

Slowly, you tucked your hair out of your way. You set the small machine in place. You placed your hand over the on button tentatively.

The Hunter you’d grown attached to gave you a nod.

Finally, you pressed the button.

You waited and held your breath.

It was as if everything came crashing in at once.

The wind that rushed through the trees was giving out hollow rattling noises.

The birds above were chirping shrilly, each whistle harmoniously fitting together like a puzzle.

And you... you could hear yourself gasping in surprise as you spun in circles. You could hear the leaves crunching beneath your feet. Did that always happen?

“I’ll take it that it works?” Your thought were interrupted by a raspy southern accent.

You spun around, facing Daryl once more.

He stood back up, tip of his mouth tipped up in a half smile.

You couldn’t speak.

You couldn’t even thank him with your words.

So you thanked him the only way you knew how: with actions.

You wasted no time in running in his direction, more tearing spilling down your face as you wrapped your arms around the surprised man.

He returned the gesture after a moment of hesitation. “Wasn’t no problem.”

You buried you face in his shoulder, overcome with emotion. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

He rubbed your back comfortingly. “Was nothin’.”

You shook you head and hugged him harder. “No, it was everything.”

#crossbowkingwritingchallenge #for you #bookish #wattpad #fanfic #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd incorrect quotes #the walking dead #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader

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cuddlesslut · 4 years

Text

Closure

Part Nine to Home

Atsumu x Fem Reader, Suna x Fem Reader, Hinata x Fem Reader

Summary: it’s been so long since you’ve seen each other it’s time for closure

Warnings: angst just angst

A/N : okay first thank you to everyone who has been checking on me thank you so much for all your support. I’m so sorry it took so long to update. It’s been a rough month for me. I’ve been dealing with a lot of depression and personal struggles. So I haven’t had the energy to write. I was finally able to put this together sorry it’s extremely unedited and also sorry if it’s not what you were expecting. I will be writing more to this however I can not say how quickly I will be able to get out the chapters. Again sorry for the inconvenience.

Part Eight: Hope

Your heart beated rapidly as you stared across at Atsumu. It had been months since you had seen your former lover and as much as you wished you were over him it still hurt. Looking at him he hadn’t changed much still as handsome as ever. Although he seemed more sullen not nearly as peppy as he used to be. His Hair had grown out a little more shaggy than it had been , and there were slight bags under his eyes.

The setter sat across from you eyes trained on the drinks sitting in his hands that he had yet to sip from. You could feel the warmth of your coffee through the palm of your hands. A sad grin graced your face. He had ordered your favorite. After all this time he still remembers. That small smile was the only contrast to the somber intensity of this reunion.

Atsumu cleared his throat breaking you from your trance. “I owe you the biggest apology ever, YN, I am so so sorry for what I did,” he stated his voice shaky. He paused looking up at you unshed tear building in his eyes. “ what I did to you was unforgivable I know that, I was the biggest ass to you when all you ever did was support me. I was selfish and I want you to know I’ll never ask you to forgive me because I will never forgive myself.” Atsumu could feel his cheeks becoming damp as he quickly wiped away his tears. He knew he had no right to be sad. He took a deep breath ready to continue his apology when a small whimper escaped you. When your eyes met his he could see the trail out tears streaming down your face. It pained him to see you like this. You had never given him the chance to see your pain before.

Your throat felt tight as you tried to form your words. Part of you wanted to scream at him and tell him how shitty of a person he is. Who cares that he’s sorry it doesn’t change things. But you care. God do you feel like an idiot for doing so but you do. You loved this man for years of you’re life. And no matter the pain he put you through it still hurt to see him like this. You had never seen Atsumu cry in the 6 years of being with him. So seeing him so destroyed right in front of you was a complete shock.

“Why,” you finally chocked out.

“Because you never deserved what I put you through-” he began

“NO,” you snapped losing your composure for a moment. “Why did you do it!”

His eyes grew wide understanding your meaning.

“Why Atsumu! What did I do? Where did i go wrong! Was I not good enough?” You hiccuped tearing streaming down you’re broken face.

“No!” He snapped hurt that you’d ever think of yourself that way. “No don’t you ever think that way YN! You were perfect, You were there for me no matter what, you are beautiful and smart and the kindest person I know it was not your fault!”

“Then why Sumu! Why did you ruin us!” Your voice raising an octave.

“BECAUSE I WAS WEAK!” he broke tears hot tears falling freely. “I was weak and selfish! You were busy and never had time for me anymore because of school. You rarely came to my games at the time. And when I was at home you were always busy studying!” He looked at your shocked expression. “But looking back it was completely unfair of me to feel like that! I know that! Going to school was your dream just like volleyball was mine! I was selfish I know that now! After these months of therapy I’ve realized I was selfish our whole relationship.” He stopped catching his breath and calming down. He didn’t want to be the impulsive man he used to be. This maybe the last time he speaks to you he doesn’t want to ruin it by being heated.

You waited as he calmed himself. Observing the man in front of you. While he may look like him the man in front of you was not the Atsumu Miya you knew. You could see that clearly now. The man you knew would have brushed this off, or made round about excuses never taking responsibility. This was a new man. The Sumu you knew didn’t believe in therapy. And you have to admit you’re glad he’s getting help.

Atsumu opened his eyes looking up at you. “I know it may not seem like it YN but I love you I always have and I always will, I know I was shit at showing it but it’s true,” he sighed “but I also know that you deserve way better than me.” He took a deep breath knowing this next part would be the hardest to say. “ I know our lives overlap, in more ways than I thought apparently,” thinking back to the fact that his teammate was head over heels for you, “but i promise I won’t make your life hard, I’ll keep my distance, and if you want me completely out of your life I make sure to stay away, I won’t ever bother you if that’s what you want, although I will miss you, I want you to be happy.” He gave a soft and hopeful smile knowing this was the least that he could do.

This was not what you expected at all when choosing to meet with him. Although it was a relief in a way to have some sort of closure. He has definitely changed that much you can see. But your feelings were still so jumbled. One thing was made clear through this emotional meeting though. While part of you wanted to hate him, a big part of you still cared. But you were certain now that it wasn’t the same as before. You were sure that you had finally moved forward from your love of Atsumu Miya. Yes you still cared deeply for him but he no longer held your heart.

Looking down at your cup of coffee you finally allowed yourself a sip of the sweet liquid relishing in all the memories it brought with it. Atsumu sat patiently wait for your response not wanting to rush you. Even if his lunch break was well past ended he didn’t care volleyball could wait, he owed you that. After several moments of thoughtful silence you spoke.

“I need time,” you stated. “I don’t hate you, but I’m just not ready to forgive you yet, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for you to be in my life. Or if I ever will be, for right now I’d appreciate if you kept your distance as I continue to heal and reach my decision.”

The setter nodded accepting your choice. He stood slowly making sure to give a good long look to the woman he loved knowing this may be the last time you speak. “This is goodbye then,” he sighs giving you a small nod to which you return. He goes to leave with a heavy heart. He stops turning back to you. Your attention is fully on him still.

“He really cares about you ya know,” he gives a small smile and wave before turning around and finally walking away.

You hadn’t expected those words from him. A small giggled left your lips. You had no clue which man he meant.

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#atsumu x female reader #atsumu angst #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu hinata #haikyuu suna #hinata x reader #suna x reader #hinata angst #suna angst #haikyuu x y/n #atsumu miya #home tag list #home series #haikyuu

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qyllenhaal · 4 years

Text

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker smut #the devil all the time #dark fic #lee bodecker fic #sebastian stan fic

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seraphdarlimg · 4 years

Text

wish I were (pt2)

harry acts like everything is good and dandy but reader sees Heather wearing the sweater

part 1 here

‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST WORD COUNT - 1,892

A/N: hehe because it was december 3rd, I just had to get this chapter done to post even if it might be a little late but here ya go

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My guitar rested on my thigh as i brought my head down to lay on the fret, staring at the blank piece of lined paper in front of me. I sighed, turning my head away and just bathed in the silence of the separate room from the main studio. The weight on my chest might of suggested the frustration out of my creative block, unable to produce words or lyrics for the past weeks. Or that I was progressively losing the will to even pick up an instrument, as strumming the strings took a lot of energy for me to do.

The oversized hoodie I brought kept me warm, but i knew that wasn't satisfying enough. However the idea of wearing one of his hoodies I've place in a closed box in the corner of my apartment hurt too much and that now I'm back in the studio after weeks of trying to avoid coming here at all costs. After the New Year's party, I've done nothing but wallow up in my apartment alone, trying to come up with songs as quickly as possible just so I could get this project done and over with. That proved to be difficult however, especially with Harry trying to call on a normal basis.

"Helllooo bubs, why haven't you been showing up at the studio eh?" "You said at the beginning of this project that I could work at home whenever I want. I'm just taking you up on that offer." "Of course, you'd remember me sayin' that. How've you been love, haven't seen you in a while though." "Fine, just been doing my job." "Well yeah, can't write all these lovely songs without your talent, can I? You gonna come in tomorrow then?"

I hesitated for a second, biting my tongue when I felt my eyes pool up again. "I'll just send a pdf of lyrics to you Harry." "O-oh. Well that would conventionally work... yes but you have to come in tomorrow though." "Why? Just text me what you like and don't like about the verses and I'll fix them." "Bubs you know how I feel about in person collaboration. Plus the deadlines are coming up and it'll be easier and faster to have you in the studio." "Okay." He hesitates this time and I could see his brows furrowed together as well as having a hand on his hip. Most likely wearing lose sweats and the knitted cardigan he's been falling in love with over the months. His hair a bit longer than it was last time I saw him and his pink lips quirked to the side in thought. Maybe the bags under his eyes are gone, has been looking more happier lately. More happier than I could of made him to be over the months. "Are you okay?" "I have to go Harry, I'll see you tomorrow." "Oh see yo-"

He was the first one to greet me when I arrived, and I wanted nothing more than to burst out sobbing when I see his smile. It took everything not to do so, giving him a tight lip smile and quick side hug before sitting down farthest away from him. For the first hour and a half of discussion, I didn't say much and zoned off a lot, tuning in and out of the conversation Harry leaded about a song he had written recently. I felt his glances on me when I turned away, probably sensing my unwillingness to comment so he was considerate enough to not put me under the spotlight in the discussion. In the middle of it, Harry's phone started ringing and he didn't waste a second to excuse himself to answer it. "Hello? Oh hey darling, you almost here?" I froze when he grows a cheesy smile on his face as he walks further to the other side of the studio before telling us to continue without him. I took a deep breathe, not mentally prepared to be in the same room as her. Has she always been coming to the studio or did I just choose to worse day to finally come in? I try to focus doodling in my little notebook, but it grew harder and harder to focus on anything else but the way he crosses his arms and laughs while on the phone with her. From the corner of my eye, it was definite he's completely captivated just hearing her voice and I could just picture the angelic tone of it. I didn't realize I was tapping my pencil till I hear Sarah calling out my name, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Are you okay, haven't seen you in a while." I nodded, putting on a smile. "Yeah sorry, been getting a lot of work opportunities and just a bunch of family stuff that's exhausted me." Sarah gives me a look that resembles one of a mother who knows their child isn't telling the full truth, but she nods and pats my hand. "Completely understandable. But that's exciting, new artists been reaching out to you n' all that?" "Ha surprisingly, considering saying yes to all of them." my smile was growing genuine a little, thinking about how content I was with my career. Being a lyricist and songwriter was a definite risky path to take in terms of stability, but it made me happier knowing I was able to to do. "Oh of course, you can totally do it. Probably wanted to see what all the hype was about when Harry couldn't stop talking about you at every social gathering he's been at." Sarah chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully. "Yeah?" I quickly looked down, feeling my eyes water as the pang in my chest came back. "Mhmm, acts like Thomas and Mitch don't even exist." I laugh lightly at that, fiddling with my fingers as I focused down on my notebook. I found myself in an awkward situation, not knowing how to continue the conversation but knowing I didn't want to try. I love Sarah, but I was close to break down right there if I tried and it was not the place to do so. Not when everyone is trying to meet deadlines and Harry was about to walk in with Heather at any moment. "Hey, I actually have a lot of emails to respond to so I'm gonna be in the other room." I stood up, taking a guitar and my notebook. "Might actually be better for me to focus in." "Sure, we'll let Harry know." I gave her a grateful smile, walking out into the hallway to a different room. I let out another shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed once I was finally alone. But before I could close the door, I hear her. I peak out to see both her and Harry standing at the entrance of the building, huddled close together. "Sorry I forget it gets this cold in LA sometimes." She says, looking up at him while he rubs the sleeves of his sweater that was wrapped perfectly around her. It was a simple orange stripped sweater. A vintage that Harry bought in Vienna and became one of his favorites. It was just a simple polyester sweater, but it became my favorite too. So it was hard to give it back after wearing it that night we kissed, but fuck was it harder to see her wearing it. Now as I sit alone with no sense of motivation to do anything else but wallow in my own pity I thought about a lot of things. I should be angry, be fuming and cursing at Harry for how he's been acting. I should confront him, make him feel as hurt as he made me for choosing her. Or maybe I should hate Heather, despise her for taking the chance I had with him. But deep down I know I couldn't hate Heather. She's such an angel, it wasn't her fault he's still hung up on her. And as much as the image of his arm wrapped around her kills me, I couldn't hate him either for the same reason. She looked prettier in his sweater than I did. "You okay in here bubs?" As if the tears welling up in my eyes and heavy weight on my chest wasn't enough, the sound of knuckles against the door and his voice calling out my name made me almost sob. "Yeah, I'm good. Door's open." I quickly try to compose myself when he enters the room, giving me that warming smile of his. "Just wanted to check up on ya, been quiet since you got here." Harry looks at me with concerning eyes as he places a hand on my shoulder before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in front of me. Keep your hand on my shoulder, the second it was there all the nerves went away. I wanted to say but instead I fake a smile again, waving it off and shrugging. "Oh no, just have a lot on my plate don't worry." He nods, feeling his eyes on me while I try to avoid his by opening my laptop and skimming through my inbox. "Sarah told me about different singers reaching out to you." He points at my laptop before taking a seat on the chair to the side. I nodded, humming while I typed out quick responses. "Yup, thanks by the way but now I gotta sort out a whole schedule for this year." I took a glance up to see him focused on my song journal on the table in front of us.

“So...you and Heather huh?” The sheepish smile he has tugs my heart strings but I tried to keep from fumbling with my fingers.

“Yeah uhh...” He scratches the back of his neck, keeping his eyes on his hands and looking like a young kid with a crush. “Started talking again and catching up, been working out stuff between us since the party.”

I tilt my head to the side, motioning him to continue. “She’s gorgeous...”

“She’s amazing.”

I finally looked away from him and onto my screen, letting out a little chuckle.

“So you guys are back together?”

“No no, we’re just sort of figuring things out at the moment.” Though it was an answer I was hoping for, the look in his face was none the less comforting.

“Well, hope everything goes great. You guys look perfect together.” I managed to say, going back to typing while he only responds with a nod and hum.

There was silence. Does he not feel it too? Uncomfortable silence was never a thing between us but it was prevalent here. "Not gonna leave early are you though?" He says out of no where and I stopped typing for a sec to give my attention to him. "Not going to ditch me for someone else of course." He says it with a laugh, playing it off like an obvious joke... but the way he looked at me. Part of me wanted to scream at how oblivious and selfish that statement sounded coming from him, as if he has no idea the drastic shift our relationship has taken. But I see the vulnerability in his eyes, sensing the subtext in his question that is practically asking me to stay. Stick by his side and help finish this passion project he's dedicated to put out, not only for his fans but for himself. Be with him to figure out what to do next, even if I would be in a different county or continent and working with someone else. Keep in touch throughout because I've become an important person in his life. Even if that person who used to fill that spot came back, he's still here and asking me to stay with him in a similar sense. It wasn't the kind of love I wanted, but never the less, it was still love from Harry. Did the smile I wear at that moment reach my eyes? When I placed my hand on top of his in reassurance, was the hesitance obvious? Maybe he did notice the little signs, but he took my hand in his anyways and placed it against his heart.

"Of course, 'm always gonna here Harry."

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part 3

A/N: guys my heart hurts writing this lol. There’s gonna be one or two more parts of this series, but thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #one direction #harry styles blurb #heather

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whumpmatsus · 3 years

Note

So you can, nice.

I been wandering if you could write something about a painful love triangle between iromatsu and a new neighbor they have met and become Friends with.

She is like the epic older sister type, but with some depression and emptiness. Best if her name was Irusu. She likes to pet the sextuplets.

ichimatsu happen to fall for her thinking she is similar to him and karamatsu falling for her strong personality thinking it was beautiful.

however when karamatsu realized that ichi love her too and saw how close they are. he had a emotional battle with himself not knowing if he should choose his happiness or his brother's, in the end he chose what he thought is the best for them all and immediately give up on her and start avoiding her not knowing that the girl actually have a crush on him (lot of details, ik)

eventually the girl got hurt from Karamatsu action and blamed her foolish messed up self.

Ichimatsu who know the girl's feelings get into a fight with karamatsu and they got injured both physically and emotionally.

I don't know about the ending tho, you can write whatever you want I'm only here to give pain to my heart.

It's a bit long so take your time and don't overdo it pls, love ya💙

ahahaha sorry, was the request "yo girl how much emotional Iromatsu shit can you fit into less than 3000 words?"

... the answer is literally all of it

this was fun, Iromatsu fighting hurts my heart but also I love it, that angst is delicious :D

I made the ending vague in order both to let people imagine their own ending AND to set up for a possible sequel if anybody wants one!

love ya too, I hope this is good for you *fingerguns*

For the first time in a long time, Akatsuka Ward has a new resident.

For the first time in an even longer time, she’s been hanging around the Matsuno sextuplets as if they’re her only friends.

As far as anyone else knows, that might be the truth. No one ever sees her with anyone else aside from the times she happens to work, and the brothers all seem incredibly fond of her, so there’s really no reason to find anyone else when she has six new friends.

Irusu is maybe a strange kind of young lady, but no stranger than the rest of Akatsuka’s inhabitants, to be fair. Around the sextuplets, she doesn’t really rest in making sure they’re all taken care of and happy.

She accompanies Osomatsu to the pachinko parlor, often putting her own money into the machines so he can play. She sits next to Karamatsu on the roof, listening to him play guitar and singing along. She collects magazine articles about idols and proudly sets them into Choromatsu’s hands when she comes over. She brings over food for Ichimatsu’s cats, giving little kissy noises as she feeds them. She always offers to play baseball with Jyushimatsu, even though it always leads to exhaustion later. She displays an incredible willingness to star in selfies with Totty and makes him laugh with silly poses.

And if she’s not doing any of those things, she’s got one of their heads in her lap, stroking through their hair. More than one fight has broken out over who gets to be petted the most on any given day.

All in all, they love having her around. It’s been so long since any of them had a real friend outside the family who treated them so kindly.

Is it really any wonder at least one of them ended up falling head over heels for her?

… Actually, is it really any wonder two of them did?

Neither of them is sure who fell first, though they’re not sure it really matters since they can’t really call ‘dibs’ on a person. All they know is that Ichimatsu is drawn to the similarities between himself and Irusu, sensing a kind of heavy-weighing sadness and darkness inside her that’s not unlike his own… and that Karamatsu is pulled in by her strength and kindness, in awe of someone who can be so brave even when she’s suffering herself.

For the month or so after Karamatsu became aware of his little brother’s feelings, he’s been wrestling with his own heart. What kind of horrible older brother would he be if he stole the affections of someone Ichimatsu’s heart is also pining after? Can he even set aside his own selfish emotions when he’s never quite felt like this for someone before?

The whole thing is just awful. Often as brothers they would playfully fight over Totoko, and yet this is… different. This isn’t Totoko. It’s Irusu. It’s someone that one of them might actually have a shot with.

What is he supposed to do? For once in his life, he wants to step up and have a chance, to not immediately give in to his generosity and wanting his little brother to be happy. He wants to be happy. It’s a shame that he does want Ichimatsu to be happy, too. At the very least, he doesn’t want his happiness to have a hand in Ichimatsu’s pain.

He thinks too long and too hard. Every cheesy romantic line that he aims at Irusu and every time she smiles at him ― it’s getting more difficult to take. Every time she caresses his head. Every hug they share.

Every time he notices Ichimatsu tense up whenever Karamatsu flirts with Irusu. Every time Ichimatsu clenches his fists when she’s charmed by something Karamatsu does or says. Every time he looks angry and insecure when she calls him ‘Irusu boy’ and proclaims herself ‘Karamatsu girl’, even if it’s probably just a joke.

Those are the things he thinks he notices more than any of Irusu’s reactions.

He wants so much to be selfish, to not care how his brother feels. The unfortunate truth is that he does. More than anything, he loves all of his brothers, Ichimatsu included. If something he does is going to hurt one of them, then he doesn’t want to do it.

So last night, he did something that he didn’t truly want to do. As Irusu was leaving, he kissed her hand and told her, in a rather solemn tone devoid of his usual theatrics, “Ichimatsu would probably like it if you asked him out.”

With that, he felt like things were in place. He would keep his distance from her, Ichimatsu would get a chance to be happy with her, and… Karamatsu was sure he would find someone else eventually. The biggest problem was that in order for it not to be so painful for him, he would have to try to avoid Irusu as much as possible.

No more hugs. No more being petted. No more pretty smiles in his direction.

It’s only been a few days of it by this point. However, it’s not easy. Even though he thinks this is the best thing, that he’ll stop craving her attention at some point, right now he still wants it. Losing the closeness they’ve all become used to is one of the worst things he can think of, and it’s happening, and he’s so sure it’s the right thing…

It just sucks that the right thing can hurt so badly.

At least his little brother will have a shot at happiness.

Ichimatsu, on the other hand, is pissed.

He’s sure he must have been this angry at some other point in his life, although he can’t really remember this kind of fury burning him up from the inside. It’s probably been a while since he felt anything other than a boiling of annoyance.

He has a hard time with Karamatsu, that much is for sure, but he knows Karamatsu well enough. The man is a goody-goody, or at least he pretends to be, so he’d never do something like, say, step on Ichimatsu’s toes over a girl they both like. That much is certain.

Except the issue with backing off is that in the process, he’s managed to lodge a big, painful arrow in Irusu’s feelings. That is something Ichimatsu can’t just ignore or let slide.

Why would he do this, anyway? If he was going to let Ichimatsu have a chance with her, fine… how come he had to just start brushing her off, though? What, does he think he can’t even be friends with her in order to let Ichimatsu shoot his shot? The hell is wrong with that dumbass?

This is where his dangerous nature comes in handy, at the very least. He can’t act too scary around Irusu or he risks her being afraid of him. Karamatsu is another story.

Which is good, because he thinks his big, stupid brother needs a scare to make him realize what the hell he’s doing.

Not only is he taking away Ichimatsu’s chance of winning Irusu’s affection fairly, instead of being the ‘runner-up’ like he’s been his whole life, Karamatsu is also hurting her. She’s talked about this to Ichimatsu, and she thinks that this is somehow her fault.

She thinks she’s too messed up and Karamatsu has just lost interest in her, that she did something which turned him off. The way she buried her face in Ichimatsu’s shoulder, mumbling tearfully that she should have known Karamatsu couldn’t possibly like her the way she liked him, is a memory he thinks is going to be burned in his mind forever.

He’s mad at Karamatsu more than he’s ever been in his life. He thinks he’s doing a nice thing stepping aside and trying to give Ichimatsu a chance, but if it hurts Irusu, he doesn’t want that chance. It matters what she wants more than anything, so if she likes and wants Karamatsu, if it’s putting her in pain to have him treat her dismissively, then Ichimatsu isn’t going to just stand by. He’s gonna do something about it.

Of course, perhaps he could have been a little more composed about it than to simply walk up to Karamatsu and punch him in the face. That said, nobody ever accused Ichimatsu of being subtle.

The hit was hard enough to leave his hand aching, so as soon as it connects, he pulls his fist back and rubs at his knuckles. It hurts, yeah. There’s more important stuff than that right now, though. He stares down at his brother, who’s on the floor trying to recover, and for a long moment, doesn’t do anything except glare.

Karamatsu, meanwhile, is pinching his nose shut in an attempt to stop the bleeding from being punched in the Goddamn face without any warning. To say he wasn’t expecting the blow would be an understatement. Even when he gingerly draws his hand away with a wince, everything still throbs. “Ichimatsu, what the hell was that for?!”

“You’re an ass,” Ichimatsu hisses, taking a step closer. “You think I need your fucking pity, huh? You think the only way Irusu would choose to go out with me is because you gracefully bowed out? You’re full of shit!”

Karamatsu is on his feet in a few seconds, only to just barely catch another fist thrown at him. His arm shakes with the muscle strain of holding back his little brother’s ire. “What are you… are you angry at me for taking myself out of the running?! Any other time, you’d be eliminating the competition yourself!”

Ichimatsu throws a punch with his other hand, though it’s caught just the same. There’s too much rage and adrenaline flooding through him, and Karamatsu can’t hold him back forever. “You think you’re doing me some kind of favor?! That’s just so like you! You’ve gotta be the hero right? You stupid, chūnibyō loser! You’re the saintly big brother and I’m the pathetic jackass and you’ve just gotta help me!”

“Wha… h-hey! That’s not what I think or what I’m trying to do!” It’s starting to become difficult to keep a grip on Ichimatsu’s hands, so in a desperate bid for some space, he shoves Ichimatsu back… maybe with a little more force than he may have used otherwise. “I care about you, Ichimatsu! You deserve to have a chance, and I know she likes you, and I just thought… if I allowed her to focus on you, I wouldn’t distract her!”

Ichimatsu ends up flat on his ass, although he’s back up in only a second. “You didn’t distract her, you motherfucker! You hurt her feelings! Who cares if she likes me?! She likes you! But as usual, you had to go and fuck everything up for everybody because you were trying to ‘help’!”

This time when he lunges forward, Karamatsu is ready and they end up grappling like two bucks locking antlers. Nobody really has the upper hand unless one counts that Ichimatsu is putting a little more physical force into it; the emotional toll it’s taking on Karamatsu is obvious, though.

“She never told me anything about that!” His arms quiver as he tries to plant his feet so that Ichimatsu can’t just brute force his way through this fight.

“Should she have had to?! You said she likes me, but she’s never said that, so you could obviously read her to know she likes me! You couldn’t tell she likes you, too?! And so what?!” Ichimatsu rocks forward in an attempt to knock Karamatsu off balance. “Even if she didn’t like you that way, you think blowing her off like you’ve been doing wouldn’t hurt a friend?!”

He winds back and goes in for another punch. “You’re not a good person! You know what you are? You know what I see when I look at you, what everyone else sees when they look at you? A stupid, painful, selfish, sorry excuse for a big brother!”

Something about those words makes Karamatsu freeze. The hit lands full-force, kickstarting the bloody nose that had just stopped a moment ago. Sparks dance around his insides, prompting him to gain back awareness enough to reciprocate the blow.

Before either of them know it, they’re rolling around on the floor, kicking and hitting each other and shouting the worst things they can think of.

“Excruciating bastard!”

“Antisocial asshole!”

“Self-centered, holier-than-thou shitbag!”

“Emotionally constipated, ungrateful bitch!”

“You don’t deserve to be anyone’s older brother! You don’t deserve to be anyone’s brother, period! You deserve to be alone, because nobody should ever have to deal with you and your fucking tryhard bullshit!”

“Oh, and you’re so easy to deal with?! All any of us do is give and give and you don’t give us anything in return! Being an apathetic misanthrope doesn’t make you interesting or special, it just makes you an edgelord!”

“Edgelord, huh? Must run in the family, because you’re even edgier than I am!”

“Maybe, but at least I don’t shut everyone out and act like my brothers don’t love me!”

“Oh, you’re psychoanalyzing me now?! Fuck off! Actually, just die!”

“Is that what you say to everything?! You die first and I might consider it!”

“Great! I’m glad to die! I’ve got a noose and a beam all picked out! As long as I get to choose how you die, I’m ready when you are, asshole!”

“Please! As if I’m going to let you do something like that! What the hell is wrong with you, Ichimatsu?!”

It seems to be the turn in that direction that causes the two of them to start to lose steam. The decline is quick as all the anger between both men crystallizes into fatigue and anguish.

Karamatsu rolls over from where he ended up above Ichimatsu, and Ichimatsu lets his whole body go limp. They lie there for what feels like forever, breathing heavily, covered in new bruises and scratches and flecks of blood, too tired to fire any more shots at one another.

They lie side by side, and when Karamatsu looks over, he sees through his own blurry vision that there are tears in the corners of Ichimatsu’s eyes.

His heart leaps into his throat.

He doesn’t know how else this could have turned out, but it’s undeniable that things have gone way too far, as they always do with any of the sextuplets.

“Ichimatsu…” He reaches for his little brother, only for Ichimatsu to pull violently away and curl into a ball. It hurts, mainly because he knows that’s what Ichimatsu does when he wants the entire world to leave him be. This time, it’s Karamatsu’s fault.

“Fuck off, Shittymatsu,” Ichimatsu mumbles. It’s through experience that Karamatsu can tell he’s starting to cry; that break in his voice might not be evident to anyone except his brothers. “Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t wanna hear it. I don’t care.”

Karamatsu huffs. “Well, you should care. We can’t do this shit, Ichimatsu. What’s wrong with us? It’s not normal for brothers to fight like this. We just beat each other up. Over a woman. … A stunning woman, but―”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Ichimatsu interrupts. “Are there rocks in your Goddamn head? Do you really think this is just about Irusu? Don’t pretend this wouldn’t have happened at some point even if she never came into our lives. We’re fucking losers who don’t know how to get along and she’s just the latest thing we’re fighting about. We’re both shitheads. Neither of us deserves her.”

Well, at least they can agree on that.

Despite the fact that Ichimatsu doesn’t turn to look at him, not even a little, Karamatsu keeps a hand on his little brother’s back. That Ichimatsu doesn’t push him away or scream for Karamatsu to get off is a good sign.

Although, there aren’t enough good signs to just magically fix this. There’s still so much wrong with the entire situation and nothing is going to tie it up with a neat bow.

They lie next to each other in silence for a long time. Gradually, the tension starts to drain out of Ichimatsu’s body, the more seconds tick by without Karamatsu moving away. His muscles continue to relax until he’s bled out of fury, until he realizes that he doesn’t wantto be mad at his big brother.

The anger isn’t just going to vanish from either of them. It’s not going to disappear because they don’t want to be angry at each other. Their exhaustion bringing true feelings out of the shadows, however, is better than making believe they would prefer staying angry.

“I’m sorry,” Karamatsu finally says. His voice is smaller than usual and breathy and sounds cracked in half by the time he speaks up.

At last, Ichimatsu rolls over onto his back with a grunt. “… I’m sorry, too.”

Karamatsu sighs and shifts his hand away to give his younger brother space. “We really are a couple of pathetic creatures, aren’t we?”

“Yep, we’re shitty.”

“The shittiest.”

They both fall silent for another moment or two. This time, it’s Ichimatsu who breaks the quiet. “What… do we do now?”

There are too many thoughts swirling around Karamatsu’s head. And he would assume in Ichimatsu’s head as well. Everything is tumulting around in an unorganized mess, too much to put together any kind of real plan.

What do they do about what,anyway? About Irusu and who gets to have a chance with her? About their own broken relationship?

Neither of them really knows what to do about anything.

“I think,” Karamatsu hums, “we should patch up our wounds before anything else.”

So Ichimatsu nods.

It’s not going to solve any of their real problems, but it’s as good a place to start as any.

#Osomatsu san #whump #Iromatsu #Karamatsu #Ichimatsu #OC #emotional whump #violence #love triangle #angst #MMMMMMMMMMM Y'ALL TASTE THAT??#FRESH ANGST RIGHT OFF THE ANGST VINE #THESE TWO HAVE SO MANY PROBLEMS WITH EACH OTHER #MAYBE THEY NEEDED TO SCREAM AND BEAT EACH OTHER UP #at least it's over! ... for now anyway XD

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bestworstcase · 4 years

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What are your opinions on the whole Rapunzel-Varian drama in S1 post Queen For A Day, especially with the whole "Rapunzel should've checked on Varian after the snowstorm" or whose fault it was for their conflict?

tbh… if i had to pick one single representative example of the tts fandom’s general inability to handle nuance in fictional conflict, it’d be the QFAD discourse™

because! while this isn’t to rag on anyone, if you pick a random person with an opinion on this question, chances are they will fall into one of two camps. either: 1) corona’s treatment of varian was horrifically unjust and everyone involved except him is a terrible person, or 2) rapunzel did what she had to do and varian’s anger is irrational, unfounded, and fundamentally unfair.

people in camp #1 tend to believe that rapunzel was simply being selfish and acting like a sulky child when she failed to check up on varian after the storm. people in camp #2 tend to point out that rapunzel was traumatized by the events of QFAD too, and believe that this justifies her failure to check up on varian.

but the thing is imo the conflict in QFAD + the rest of s1 is just as complex and messy as the argument cassandra and rapunzel have in RATGT, in that there is no One True Right Answer and no person who is one hundred percent “at fault.” the question of blame is… honestly sort of beside the point if you ask me. to break this down:

#1: rapunzel is a sheltered teenager with minimal social skills dealing with a national emergency halfway through her first unsupervised couple days on the job.

the girl has had like eight months tops of training for the monumental task of ruling a country. she grew up in a situation where the only choice available to her was how she would wile away her free time inside her tower; gothel exerted total control over every other facet of her life. and while she has a little more wiggle room now that she’s out of the tower, she is still basically living her life with all the big, consequential choices made for her.

QFAD was intended to be her first taste of true authority, while still being ultimately inconsequential. if all had gone according to plan, corona would have ticked along more or less on autopilot—just as frederic left it—while rapunzel got in a little practice making judgment calls about minor, unimportant things, like mediating small interpersonal disputes between her subjects.

nobody expected, and rapunzel was absolutely not prepared for, a legitimate national crisis to explode in her face out of nowhere. this was supposed to be pedaling by herself for the first time with training wheels and what she got instead is careening down the freeway on a motorbike at 95mph with zero warning. it is a miracle that she held things together as well as she did.

#2: varian is a child with an emotionally distant, unsupportive father who sets him up for failure.

he’s smart but he’s also fourteen. he has little if any formal training in alchemy, he’s figuring stuff out by trial and error, and he has zero adult supervision. his efforts have caused significant levels of destruction twice in only a few months—the exploding boilers in WTH, and his invention going haywire (with a little help from st. croix) in GE—and it’s implied that this is a fairly regular occurrence with him.

and yet quirin does nothing. he shouts at varian, shuts him down, and at several points orders him point blank to stop messing with alchemy… but he makes no effort to connect with his son or understand where he’s coming from; he doesn’t try to impose reasonable restrictions (like “don’t mess with volatile chemicals unless i’m there to help”) that would allow varian to pursue his passion while minimizing the danger; and he doesn’t create an environment where varian feels able to turn to his father for help. and then with the black rocks, he lets varian come along to see the king, but refuses to explain why he “lied” (/spoke in code) to the king, destroying any credibility he had in varian’s eyes and making varian panicky and desperate because it seemed like no one else cared.

so the end result is that varian feels like he has no choice but to sneak around behind quirin’s back. he can’t rely on his dad for help if anything goes wrong, but the situation is so dire that doing nothing also isn’t an option. he tries his best to be careful (before quirin barges in on him, varian is attempting to put just one drop of the amber serum on the rock) but even if quirin hadn’t startled him, a terrible accident was bound to happen sooner or later, and the responsibility for that lays just as much if not more on quirin’s shoulders—the adult in this situation—as on varian’s. the kid is FOURTEEN.

(i think a neat argument could be made for varian as a deconstruction of the teen/YA fantasy trope of the hyper-competent teenager with absentee parents whose absence allows the teen to get on with the important work of the high-stakes fantasy plot; but that’s a whole different post)

#3: rapunzel did the right thing, but lost control over the situation due to lack of experience.

it would have been wrong to abandon everybody in corona to run off into the blizzard with varian, and frankly it wouldn’t have helped quirin anyway. he was already encased in amber by the time varian got back to old corona, and rapunzel couldn’t have done anything in the moment had she been with varian then. the only benefit to her presence would have been to comfort varian—which is not a small thing, obviously, but it’s not in any way a reasonable exchange for the hundreds or thousands of lives that would have been lost if she left corona completely without a leader in the middle of a crisis. so broadly speaking, staying in corona was the right call.

however.

rapunzel was not in control during that scene in the palace. varian bursts in, panicking, explains his situation and begs for her help—and rapunzel just says, basically, “i can’t help you, there’s an emergency.” then nigel comes in and reinforces that, which makes varian freak out; he grabs rapunzel and shakes her, nigel signals for the guards in response, and varian gets dragged out of the palace while rapunzel pleads with the guards not to hurt him.

(sidebar: the hate nigel gets for describing varian as “attacking” rapunzel is unfounded. varian grabs her and shakes her roughly back and forth and that is, in fact, assault. nigel is not wrong to describe it as such.)

anyway, notice two the things that DON’T happen here:

1) rapunzel doesn’t offer up any alternative solutions. a more experienced or better prepared leader could have responded to varian’s plea with a plan of action, like: i need to stay in corona to oversee the evacuation, so we can’t leave right this minute, but cassandra will take you to ask xavier for advice right now and the minute it’s safe to leave we’ll go together to help your father. or whatever—the point is to engage proactively with varian’s problem, make him feel heard, and give him something productive to do so he isn’t just sitting around fretting in the palace or struggling back home by himself in the middle of a blizzard.

2) raps doesn’t challenge nigel’s decision when he summons the guards to throw varian out of the palace, which is something she absolutely could have done. she could have said no, i can’t go to old corona right this minute to help him, but we are not throwing him out into the storm again, he stays here with me. this is, again, a sign of her inexperience; she’s not used to being an authority, she’s never been in a situation like this before, and she’s under a ton of pressure—so when an older adult whom she sees as an authority (he’s her father’s advisor!) makes a judgment call, it probably doesn’t even occur to her that she can challenge it.

this is why i say that rapunzel lost control over the situation—because even though she made the Right Decision, she got a kind of awful outcome, ie varian being tossed out into the blizzard to struggle home by himself to deal with his problem without any support, and rapunzel inadvertently breaking her promise from earlier.

#4: rapunzel doesn’t immediately go to check on varian after the storm because she’s traumatized, busy, and trusts her father.

painter’s block is all about how the trauma rapunzel feels as a direct result of her decisions during the storm destroys her ability to choose anything. she feels so debilitated by the fear that she will make the wrong choice—because she worries that she chose wrong when she allowed varian to be sent away—that she can’t do anything at all, let alone find the emotional strength to go to old corona and confront her mistakes. and while she tries to process and move past this trauma, mrs sugarby exploits it in an attempt to force her to free zhan tiri.

the next episode, not in the mood, involves rapunzel being put under enormous pressure to entertain an irascible ally of corona’s while he and her father negotiate a trade deal with the threat of a war breaking out if they fail. NITM is a silly episode, but it has the highest non-magical stakes of any episode in the entire series. this isn’t an event rapunzel could have reasonably skipped out on for the sake of one person, no matter how much she cares. she’s slammed. she’s still being forced to prioritize just like she was in QFAD.

and in the third episode after QFAD, rapunzel is tormented by nightmares about varian and what happened to his father, so she presses frederic for information about the rocks and varian’s safety. and frederic assures her that everything is fine. he lies to her face about the rocks having been removed, and rapunzel has no reason to doubt him, so she relaxes… until varian contacts her directly, and she immediately jumps to help him.

#5: at the same time, varian has been forced into hiding because frederic is attempting to cover up the rock problem.

what happens to varian after QFAD is plainly unfair and unjust. his father is trapped in amber, the rocks have completely destroyed old corona, most of the villagers have presumably moved to the new land frederic set aside for them, and frederic’s secret police are crawling all over the village trying to suppress information about the rocks (and fred’s role in creating them). the blame for this lies squarely at frederic’s feet, and varian is right to be angry.

i believe that varian interprets rapunzel’s absence as a sign that she’s complicit in what frederic is doing, making his anger at her justified as well. he doesn’t have access to the information we do about why rapunzel doesn’t seek varian out immediately—he doesn’t see how distraught and shattered she is after the storm, or the high-stakes political nonsense she has to deal with, and he certainly doesn’t see her trying to pursue the matter of the rocks and varian’s safety with her father and being flatly lied to to convince her to stay put in corona. all he knows is that rapunzel kicked him out and now she’s ignoring him and her father’s agents keep chasing him away from his home, and he draws the conclusion that makes the most sense to him, ie rapunzel must be okay with all of this because otherwise she would be here.

and once he has that idea in his head, the fact that rapunzel immediately jumps to help him when he contacts her isn’t enough to dislodge it. he’s a scared, lonely fourteen year old boy looking at this situation through a purely interpersonal lens while rapunzel is an overwhelmed eighteen year old doing the best she can while juggling about a million things at once and putting varian low on her priority list because she’s been told by a trusted source that varian is fine.

they both make mistakes, they’re both missing important contextual information, and neither of them handles this situation in the best possible way. but neither of them is “at fault” in the sense of being purely in the wrong, and—imo—frederic and quirin hold the lion’s share of the blame here, because they had all the information, and they refused and refused and refused to deal with the black rock problem until it overwhelmed them both. varian and rapunzel are both just kids scrambling to deal with something that should not be their problem to solve, and both of them fuck up! (and even then—the best fred and quirin could’ve done was just be honest and upfront about what the problem was. neither of them had the means to fix anything, and neither of them was responsible for the very unfortunate timing of the blizzard. so it’s not as clear cut as everything bad in s1 happens because fred and quirin stuck their heads in the sand. a lot of it honestly was just sheer bad luck.)

a n y w a y, i think by s3 and after a lot of introspection, varian has figured a lot of this out, and that’s why he’s so quick to let go of his lingering grudge against rapunzel. he’s realized that at the end of the day, rapunzel was just as unprepared and lost in that situation as he was, that she’s not responsible for (and wasn’t complicit in) her father’s decisions, etc, etc.

#rta #this is a bit of a ramble but yeah #tangled-dreamer-97

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charlemange1 · 4 years

Text

Ranking adaptations of Victor Frankenstein from least to most evil

The character Victor Frankenstein has been adapted many times over the years. Sometimes he’s a heroic YA protagonist while others have him using his clone army to wipe out humanity and take over the world. But which Victor is truly the worse?

After reading several adaptations, I’ve decided to rank Victor’s morality in each one and find out! The gothic lit community doesn’t talk about these adaptations much, so hopefully this list can introduce the fandom to some of the lesser-known interpretations out there!

This is part one, which ranks printed retellings only. If people enjoy it, I’ll do a part two and merge the films into the mix!

Disclaimers (please read):

SPOILERS! Victor’s actions in these adaptations will be thoroughly analyzed with no regard for the spoiler tag.

Some of the more evil Victor’s get into dark territory, and while I will not go into extensive detail (lest I go insane) if mentions of abuse, sexual themes, possessive behavior and murder bother you, don’t make my mistake and turn back! (I will leave an additional reminder when said parts come up)

This list centers on Victor’s actions and NOT the quality of the books themselves—so if you see your favorite title getting a low score it’s not because it’s a bad book—it’s because Victor is a jerk.

This list is by no means complete, just the ones I’ve read personally.

These are my silly personal opinions and if you disagree with my ranking that’s perfectly fine!

Ranking: On a 1-10 scale, with 10 being fantastic and 0 being “run if you see this man in a dark alley.”

10/10 Perfect Sunbeam. Overall great, wholesome guy!

*crickets chirp in a serene backdrop of a Romantic field*

Good dude

Junji Ito’s Frankenstein: 8.5/10

Props to the master of manga monsters for making the twist be that Victor is not secretly evil/insane.

Not only does Victor pity the creature and agree to create a mate for him—but he keeps his word! This is especially touching when you consider how the creature treks alllllll the way to Switzerland to dig up Justine’s head as a face for the bride. (Henry says he probably didn’t know it was Justines, but come on, you just happened to pick up the head of the girl you framed and carried it for miles across land and sea to deliver it to Victor instead of stopping somewhere closer? I don't buy it.)

Victor even goes the extra mile, kindly stating:

Yet the bride rejects the creature (not Victor’s fault) and in revenge, the creature kills Henry, Elizabeth, and Alphonse. In retaliation, Victor follows him onto the ice and relates his tale to Walton before dying.

Victor's actions are nothing heroic, but what more could he have done? He didn’t break his promise and kill the bride like in the original novel and he clearly cared about reanimating “Justine” as shown in the above image.

And did I mention this manga was done by Junji Ito? Would YOU stay in the same room if you created a Junji Ito monster? Didn't think so! After the initial mistake of abandoning his monster, this Victor did the best he could to make amends and protect his family--making him an overall good person.

Decent guy

This Dark endeavor by Kenneth Oppel: 7/10

Serving as a prequel to the original novel, This Dark Endeavor tells the untold story of what leads young Victor Frankenstein to create his monster.

While Victor very much struggles with his angsty dark desires (bad), he tirelessly searches for the alchemic "Elixir of Life" to save his twin brother (good). A brother who is more talented than Victor, has the heart of his love interest, and Victor believes everyone prefers over himself.

Good on you, Victor, for letting the love for your brother override understandable sibling jealousy. If that wasn’t enough to make him decent, letting a few fingers be cut off to save his twin definitely does.

What brings Victor down to a 7 is his relationship with Elizabeth. It’s born out of jealousy from her loving his twin rather than genuine affection. Even if this retelling makes Elizabeth a feisty, pants-wearing independent female (to lessen the possessive undertones Victor exhibits, I presume? Read it and judge for yourself), the relationship does nothing positive for his character. Tricking someone into kissing you is a jerk move, bro.

Ok I guess….

Such Wicked Intent by Kenneth Oppel 6/10

The sequel to This Dark Endeavor loses Victor’s careful balance of good and bad traits its predecessor boasted. Victor wasn’t perfect in TDE, but the majority of his negative actions stemmed from trying to save his ill brother and were mostly forgivable. In Such Wicked Intent, his understandable sibling jealously now comes off as petty since Victor’s twin is already dead.

Victor trying to bring his brother back to life (good) is undermined by his growing reliance on supernatural butterflies that increase his abilities despite other characters pointing out the obvious danger. Victor is also not the greatest parent to Twin 2.0 and the previous issues with him and Elizabeth from book 1 don’t improve. He’s the same Victor from TDE, but the plot focusing on his selfish desires makes him more flawed as a result.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (the original novel): 6/10

Depending on how you interpret the events of the original novel, Victor is either a college Dad in over his head and trying his best after an initial mistake, or a misogynistic, irresponsible jerk only capable of thinking of himself. There are enough professional articles to support both interpretations, and I’m not the person to pick one over the other.

However, if the narrative he tells Walton is to be taken as truth (and the creature not correcting Victor's account tells me it is), Victor spent most of the novel trying to fix his mistake (intentions may vary)—and isn’t too bad as a result.

Pride and Prometheus by John Kessel: 5/10

Despite being a crossover with Pride and Prejudice, Kessel tries to be as faithful to the original Frankenstein as possible. However, the few changes he makes hurts Victor from a moral standpoint.

Victor’s not the greatest guy when handling the romantic gestures of both Mary Bennet and Henry. Also, murdering his creature's mate with poison right before they leave to start their happily ever after is awful, but understandable from his point of view.

Then there's P&P's ending, where Walton describes meeting Victor on the ice. It’s revealed that Victor left killing the creature's mate and the Bennet’s out of his narrative. While this is probably Kessel justifying why Jane Austen’s characters and his changes weren’t mentioned in the original text (and who can blame him?) it does make Victor a liar. In the original, the creature never called Victor out for omitting anything—so altering the story on his deathbed places P&P’s Victor a rung lower than his original counterpart.

Ehh….

Frankenstein According to Spike Milligan: 4/10

As a nearly-word-for-word retelling with minor, humorous changes by the comedian Spike Milligan, Victor is more pathetic than anything. He’s a harmless, pathetic, hilarious jerk.

Some quotes:

"I bounded along with feelings of unbridled joy and hilarity. From a great distance my family could see me bounding with unbridled joy and hilarity." (53)

"'I tell you,’ I said, ‘that murderer had his trousers down, was eating fish paste sandwiches and traveling 100 miles per hour.’" (59)

"‘I can offer you no consolation,’ said he.

‘Then piss off.’ said I." (54)

Here’s his jail visit with Justine in animatic form (and me shamelessly plugging my other creative endeavors)

Monster by Neal Bell 3.5/10

Warning: contains mentions of animal abuse

On one hand, Victor wants to conquer death to save his family and is clearly disturbed over Justine's and his mother’s death. However, the man expresses little concern at the possibility of William getting struck by lightning with his kite in front of his mother who had already lost 9 children.

He can also talk to dogs and cats (for…some reason?) who are portrayed as intelligent beings with feelings—yet that doesn’t stop him from eating said dogs in the Arctic and killing said cat after threatening her with a knife. He also flings around Bible verses while being painfully egotistical about “being God”.

Using Henry’s romantic affections toward him to his advantage, briefly forcing himself on Elizabeth, and tenderly caring for his monster only to abandon him after the creature expresses a want to die just makes him an awful person all around. The fact he doesn’t do these things with clear malicious intent saves him from being any lower.

Quotes:

ELIZABETH: A bone. A brittle bit of skin. A tooth—

VICTOR: Would you not be womanish now?

Be useful. Here—hold the Leyden jar,

While I attach the string…

VICTOR: A satisfactory morning, then, Mister Puss—tormenting the dogs?

CAT: God gave me a duty. I fulfill it.

VICTOR: Papa says there is no God.

(He takes out a knife)

Pretty bad dude

WARNING: Please note that some of these Victors get into unsavory territory. If the mention of sexual themes/abuse/murder bothers you turn back:

The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein by Peter Ackroyd: 3/10

This one was tricky. The narrative chugs along with Victor being an intelligent, thoughtful guy with only a few obsessive tendencies. He’s chilling with the Shelleys, talking to the poor in the streets and financially supporting Fred’s family along with giving out generous tips. He’s a cool guy. He’s a great dude! He’s….revealed in the final 2 pages to be recounting everything from a mental asylum, the monster was in his head, and he’s actually the one that committed the murders.

Alrighty then. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Having his insanity revealed in the final pages, it’s hard to judge whether there was genuine malicious intent or if Victor truly thought he created the creature and believed he was doing good in trying to “stop” it. No matter his intentions though, the body count remains and a child strangler has no place being anything higher than a 3.

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Kiersten White: 1/10

We all knew this one would make the list. Elizabeth’s first flashback sets up Victor as having serious issues—the question becomes how low will he go? Turns out pretty low.

He’s the one who killed William and framed Justine along with murdering his father, brother Robert and various people at Ingolstadt.

What really makes him despicable is that Elizabeth is the novel's main POV character who only sticks with Victor so she’s not thrown out on the streets. He’s abusive, controlling, dominating, and so possessive that he’ll perfect reanimation so that not even death can take her away from him! Yikes. I can’t stress enough how being in Elizabeth’s POV makes these actions all the more menacing.

Quote:

“There was never another path for you. Consider how much worse it has all been for me. How much I have had to suffer. And how much of that suffering has been caused directly by you!” His face twitched, and his fingers tightened on the pistol. Then he sighed. “It does not do to dwell on it. There is no point in fighting. This is your fate, Elizabeth Frankenstein. I will let no other claim you—not man, not death, not even God.” (279)

Nice guy.

Despite his terrible actions, Victor is trying to "save" Elizabeth from death. In his mind, he wants what’s best for her. It’s a crazy mind that mixed up domination and love, but the fact that his evil actions come from wanting to keep someone he wants to control cares about safe vs. other versions where his crimes stem from wanting to rival god and rule the world, this version isn’t THAT bad. At least his hearts in the right place—even if his mentality is utter garbage.

The Memoirs of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Theodore Roszak 0/10

*insert my screams of insurmountable anguish here*

Caroline: Hey son, you should do NSFW things.

Victor: Sure. I will now do NSFW things.

Victor: *proceeds to do NSFW things*

The reprint of this novel mentions on the cover it’s erotica, but the copy I bought (and to this day have not finished) had no such disclaimer. I’ll break my rule and speak on the quality of this book: there is none. For an alleged “pro-feminism” novel everyone is terrible—and Victor is no exception.

Literally Satan.

Dean Koontz’s Frankenstein Series: -∞/10

So you’ve read far enough to join me in Hell.

Where do even I start? This is a Victor who extended his life to the present day. Who worked with Hitler, Stalin, Castro and regretted the fall of the Third Reich. Who created an army of emotionally deprived “new race” creations to kill people and assume their identities so he could ascend the ranks of politics. Who, once he has enough of his new race integrated into society, desires to commit mass genocide on humanity and establish himself as supreme ruler of the world—only then can he conquer the cosmos as well because why the hell not?

Oh, and he’s a wife-beater/murderer too! Which isn’t a problem, considering he can create a new wife whenever he sees fit (he was on Erika 5 by book 3). The sheer lack of any positive traits in this man is laughable. Koontz really, REALLY wants to get across that Victor is a bad guy.

And if you’re somehow not convinced by the above description, here are some quotes I pulled from the first 3 novels as a bonus to reeeeeally sell how despicable this clown is:

Regarding Elizabeth:

“Victor had not loved Elizabeth. Love and God were myths he rejected with equal contempt. But Elizabeth had belonged to him. Even after more than 200 years, he still bitterly resented the loss of her, as he would have resented losing an exquisite antique porcelain vase if [his creature] had smashed that instead of the bride,” (3.97).

Regarding Mary Shelley:

“When Mary Shelley took a local legend based on truth and crafted fiction from it, she made Victor a tragic figure and killed him off. He understood her dramatic purpose for giving him a death scene, but he loathed her for portraying him as tragic and as a failure. Her judgment of his work was arrogant. What else of consequence did she ever write? And of the two, who was dead—and who was not?” (1.79-80)

(Author Note: For your information, Victor, The Last Man is considered by some to be the first dystopian novel)

His…ah…"friends”:

“Fire was featured in some of his less pleasant memories. The great windmill. The bombing of Dresden. The Israeli Mossad attack on the secret Venezuelan research complex that he had shared with Mengele in the years after World War Two. Nevertheless, he liked to read to the accompaniment of a cozy crackling fire,” (1.76).

“Victor admired Hitler. The Führer knew talent when he saw it.

In the 1930s and 40s, Victor had worked with Mengele and others in Hitler's privileged scientific class. He made considerable progress in his work before the regrettable allied victory…the problem with the Führer had been that his roots were in art and politics…The future did not belong either to artists or to politicians,” (2.24-25).

Dat ego tho:

“When I die, those cells will be capped descend a signal that will be relayed by satellite to everyone made of new race flesh, to every meat machine that walks. And you will fall down dead,’…Victor smiled, anticipating triumph in spite of their silence. ‘Did you think a God would die alone?’” (3.345).

Civilization would not be remade or sustained by Christianity or by Islam. Neither by Scientologists nor by the bright-eyed adherence of the deliciously solipsistic paranoid new religion encouraged by The Da Vinci Code. Tomorrow belonged to scientism. The priests of scientism were not merely robed clerics performing rituals, they were gods, with the power of gods. Victor himself was their Messiah,” (2.25).

“With Victor's unstoppable drive for power, with his singular intellect, with his cold materialism and his ruthless practicality, and now with synchronicity on his side, he had become untouchable, immortal.

He was immortal,” (3.329).

“How they goggled at him, abashed by his wisdom and knowledge, mortified by their ignorance, over-awed by his godlike power,” (3.330).

“’Murder,’ said the caller. ‘murder…excites me.’

Victor kept the growing concern out of his voice. ‘No, your mind is fine. I don't make mistakes.’” (1.156)

Oh yeah, he has a wife, doesn't he:

“This is why Victor requires …the cruel humiliation of his partner. He has long ago transcended the guilt that committing acts of cruelty might spawn in others...the exercise of raw power thrills him,” (1.244).

“I have given you a life…remember that. I have given you a life, and I will choose what you do with it,” (1.464).

Wives view of him:

“She owned literally hundreds of outfits. Having been created to his ideal measurements, Victor had purchased everything…She hoped that someday she would be allowed to shop for herself. When Victor allowed that, she would know she had at last met his standards and earned his trust. Briefly, she wondered what it would be like not to care what Victor—or anyone—thought of her. To be herself. Independent. Those were dangerous thoughts. She must repress them.” (1.107)

And those are just the PG bits, he does much, much worse.

In conclusion:

So yes, Spike Milligan made Victor a pathetic jerk, Casebook made Victor a madman, Memoirs made him an erotic predator, Dark Descent had him as an abusive boyfriend ruthless in possessing “his Elizabeth”, but nearly succeeding at worldwide genocide while abusing/murdering/manipulating people to achieve his goals makes Dean Koontz’s Victor Frankenstein the worse, more morally despicable Victor Frankenstein of them all. At least from what I’ve read.

Annnnd that’s it! If you want me to make a part 2 and add in the films/plays let me know! Hopefully at least one of these peeked your interest as something to check out during spooky season.

Shameless plug-in: here’s my own Frankenstein adaptation

Bonus!

Ranking the books on how much I liked them personally!

Great:

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein: Nice to see Victor’s villainy stem from family relations and not ego and wanting to defy God for a change.

Junji Ito’s Frankenstein: Phenomenal artwork, fairly faithful adaptation, and the changes serve to put Victor in a better light—which I love! The master of manga monsters himself made the right choice in keeping the creature more monstrous in this version instead of focusing on his humanity.

This Dark Endeavor: Frankenstein characters go on a Harry Potter styled adventure. Need I say more?

Average:

Such Wicked Intent: Victor’s character takes a dip, and pit monsters/life-absorbing butterflies don’t quite fit in a Frankenstein prequel.

Frankenstein According to Spike Milligan: It’s a silly, stupid comedy. Got a few chuckles out of me.

Pride and Prometheus: The concept works way better than it should. However, it follows the original text to a fault and can be boring at points.

Bad:

Warning: contains mentions of suicide

Monster: Victor’s character was far too inconsistent to be likable. He can talk to animals why, exactly?

Casebook of Victor Frankenstein: So, Victor is revealed to be crazy in the final 3 pages? So, the monster was in his head? Alright. But other characters throughout the book SAW the monster and described him like Victor did. So, there’s no way to separate Victor’s POV from reality and that kills the reread value and makes this a waste of time. Don’t get me wrong, the creature being symbolic for Victor’s inner demons is a fascinating direction if done well—and I recommend the essay “Frankenstein: The Man and the Monster” by Arthur Belefant if you want a much shorter exploration of this concept. It’s not perfect, but beats Casebook by a longshot!

Also, taking the real-life suicide of Percy’s wife Harriet and turning it into Victor murdering her and framing it on someone else to mimic Frankenstein’s Justine/William scene is just wrong. You made a woman’s suicide a cheap plot point in your fanfic of the mistress’s novel. That is what you did, author.

Dean Koontz Frankenstein: It starts out good and has great suspense—too bad the actual plot is awful. Victor’s so painfully evil it comes off as comical, the characters are bad/bland, plot holes abound (they state Mary Shelley’s novel is canon, then mention the windmill which was only in the films—so who even IS this Victor? Book or film?). The conclusion in book 3 is one of the most underwhelming finals I’ve ever read, and the creature “cures” a kid of Autism in the final chapter. No really. How this is a book series/comic series/movie is beyond me.

So atrocious I couldn’t bring myself to finish:

Warning: contains mentions of sexual themes

The Memoirs of Elizabeth Frankenstein: It claims to be pro-feminist, but the women “good guys” blatantly state they are grooming children for sexual rituals and Victor and Elizabeth are coerced into doing NSFW things by Victor’s mother in the name of “women’s rights”. Here’s the kicker: these awful actions are framed as being positive. I—a woman—loath this novel. Maybe things got better by the end (and if there was some plot twist that changed the entire setup, I apologize for ranting about nothing) but I’m not reading to that point to find out! This will forever stay both my first and last experience with erotic literature. Thank goodness The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein exists to give us a decent feminist take on Frankenstein!

#THIS TOOK OVER 5 YEARS AND I'M FINALLY DONE!#victor frankenstein #frankenstein #halloween #gothic literature #classic literature #frankenstein adaptations #frankenstien au #frankenstein memes #the casebook of victor frankenstein #the dark descent of elizabeth frankenstein #frankenstein according to spike milligan #dean koontz frankenstein #Monster neal bell #this dark endeavor #such wicked intent #pride and prometheus #charlemagne1

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haunted-by-catholic-guilt · 4 years

Text

Cumbersome And Heavy Body

Jon was born hurting.

Well, that was an exaggeration, but he did have chronic pain for as long as he could remember.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- TW FOR INTERNALIZED ABLEISM

i think thats all this has been in my folder for ages

yeah the title is from a mother mother song don't @ me

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Jon was born hurting.

Well, that was an exaggeration, but he did have chronic pain for as long as he could remember.

He was diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and fibromyalgia at age 26, after ten years of progressing symptoms and a lot of pushing from Georgie.

He had started using a cane that same year, after one too many falls for his liking.

He was embarrassed, of course, being as young as he was and needing to use it, but after much reassuring from Georgie, and the pure pain he was in, he finally did it.

He wore braces sometimes, but found that the cane was much to.. showy already that he wasn’t well.

No one at the institute seemed to care, second glances, some odd comments on the rare occasion.

On his first day as head archivist, he looked down to the archives, a steep, jagged set of stairs in his path.

Fuck.

He sighed and painstakingly slowly made his way down the stairs, he was early, and no one saw him, thank god for that.

It continues on like that for a while, going into work early, leaving late, not leaving for lunch.

It worries Martin, and Martin makes that clear.

Jon does not like Martin.

The dog in the archives for one, his constantly late work, his penmanship, his lack of basic knowledge, his frequent interruptions-

Jon could go on and on about why he hates Martin Blackwood, and he makes sure Martin knows.

It does not stop Martins’s worry, or his kindness, and that’s what Jon hates the most.

Jon tries to calmly hate Martin, scarcely snapping at him, and very rarely raising his voice, at anyone, really.

Today, however, Jon had woken up in some of the worse pain he had felt in a long time, something more than the normal bad pain.

His joints were burning, and it was expanding into an ache around them, his skin stung at any small touch, and a stinging pain threads its way through his veins.

Despite this, Jon still went into work, having to stop every few steps to catch his breath, and regroup.

He got in early and locked himself in his office, not talking to anyone and hoping it would stay that way.

But of course, Martin couldn’t give him that, could he?

A soft knock on the door, more for courtesy than asking for permission, Jon had learned.

“Goodmorning, Jon! I brought you tea-“

Jon felt anger rise and boil over before he could stop it, he slammed his hand on his desk, which did not help his pain but that was the least of the issues at hand.

“Damnit, Martin! I don’t want your goddamn tea, I don’t want to talk to you, please for the love of God leave me alone and do your goddamn work well for once? If your performance does not improve soon I will have you fired. And stop getting in the way.

He was yelling, he didn’t mean to yell, but he was.

Martin was pale and shaking, he looked like he was about to cry, and Tim and Sasha had gone dead quiet outside of his office.

Martin cleared his throat, and quickly pulled himself back together.

“R-right I’ll jus- I’ll be going.”

Martin closed the door, and Jon sagged into his chair.

He was going to pay for this, he lost his temper and now he was going to pay for it.

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

Martin closed the door to Jon’s office, and it took all he had not to start crying right then and there.

He inhaled shakily, and glanced into the break room, where Sasha and Tim were currently quiet, and staring at him.

Shit.

Tim was the first to move, quickly moving to Martin and then ushering him into the breakroom and sat him down at the table, and Sasha gently pried the tea out of his shaking hands, but he hardly noticed, being too focused on not crying.

He heard Tim talking, his voice was loud and sounded angry, and Sasha was stroking his arm but sounded pissed.

He didn’t hear anything that was being said, he just stared forward, feeling the tears prickle at his eyes, he didn’t even realize he had finally started crying until Sasha cooed, and ran her thumb over his cheek, wiping away the tears.

“Oh Martin, I’m so sorry.”

He quickly shook his head, it was his own fault, no one needed to apologize.

“N-No it’s alright, I’m fine just uh- over sensitive is all, I’m sorry.”

Tim huffed and patted his shoulder, and walked away, not giving any indication of where he was going, but Martin and Sasha both knew, Martin tried to stop him, though.

“Tim you don’t- Tim!”

His attempt was futile and the door was already open and being slammed again.

He let out a shaky sigh and put his head on the table before he stood back up.

“Well I should probably get back to work”

He let out a quiet heh, and Sasha looked displeased.

“Martin, love, it’s ok that you’re upset by that, he was an ass.”

Martin forced a laugh, but reassured her he was fine, and went back to work.

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

Jon hissed out a sigh, Tim was right.

He was just graced with quite the telling off from an extraordinarily angered Tim, which he completely deserved, some of the highlights included his selfishness, him being a jerk to Martin for no fair reason, and many, many, other things.

He didn’t try to fight back, he knew he deserved it, but he also couldn’t bring himself to talk at all.

His blood was boiling with pain, and his joints had become stiff with aching, he felt like he had been struck by lightning.

Jon sighed, and stood up, he knew he needed to apologize to Martin, the sooner the better, but before he could do anything, everything went black.

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

It had been about half an hour since the incident, Tim having spent the larger part of it chewing out Jon, when they heard a crash from Jon’s office.

“Shit”

Tim scowled but he and Martin rushed into Jons office you see him on the floor, unconscious, Martin quickly knelt by him, and grabbed his wrist.

“He doesn’t have a temperature, but his heart rate is fast”

Tim crouched down next to the small man’s unconscious form, before Martin seemed to get an idea.

“Tim, can you set his legs on your lap? Elevation might help.”

He couldn’t comprehend how Martin was still this caring to Jon who not even an hour earlier yelled such nasty things at him, but he did as he was asked.

After a few minutes, Jon started to stir, and opened his eyes, he looked confused for a second, but then revelation hit him.

“Oh- Martin I- I’m so sorry”

Martin smiled, a sad smile, but Tim could tell he was hurt and wouldn’t say anything.

“It’s quite alright Jon, are you okay?”

Jon shifted a little, before realizing his feet were being held, he smiled sheepishly and wiggled out of Tim’s grasp.

“I’m okay, it happens sometimes.”

Martins brow furrowed and despite himself, Tim felt worry blossom in him too.

“It shouldn’t happen, have you gone to a doctor?”

Jon nodded, and began to pull himself off of the floor, and Martin shot up immediately, eager to help, where Tim slowly stood up.

“Yes, it’s fine, Martin.”

Martin helped Jon sit down at his desk, and looked down, still embarrassed about earlier, Tim supposed.

“Come on boss, the least you can do is tell Martin why you yelled at him and then fainted.”

Martin made a noise, and stuttered.

“Tim, that is not necessary! If he doesn’t want to tell us he doesn’t need to”

Jon knew he should tell them, should tell them ‘sometimes I pass out, it’s one of the many symptoms of my chronic illnesses!’ but he doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to be seen as fragile, and weak.

“Martin I’m so sorry for yelling earlier, I’m not feeling my best and I took it out on you, but I shouldn’t have”

This time Martin looks up at Jon and looks surprised by a genuine apology.

“It’s alright Jon, really.”

Tim looked like he was about to fight it, but Jon felt a burst of pain from his knee, and let out a whimper despite himself.

“Jon? Are you alright?”

He gritted his teeth and nodded.

“Jon I can tell you’re not, what’s going on?”

Jon sighed, and wrong his hands, anxious for reasons he didn’t understand.

“It’s fine. I just- I have a- a chronic illness, and one of the symptoms of one of them is sometimes when I stand up, or sit up, I get dizzy and sometimes faint, I’m fine really, I just prefer to keep it to myself.”

He twisted his hands again, uncomfortable but Martin put his hand on Jon’s, clearly in a gesture of comfort.

“I- I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and Fibromyalgia, my joints aren’t right, too flimsy and bendy, more things too… and my pain varies, but it’s always there and I use the cane to help balance, and no I don’t need your pity or to be treated like I’m fragile just because I’m disabled, it’s just there.”

He looked up to see Martin smiling softly at him, and Tim looking surprised, and Sasha, who had apparently shown up without his knowledge, was leaning against the doorframe.

“Jon, we‘re not going to treat you differently now that we know what’s wrong with you, it can just make it easier for us to, you know, help you!”

Sasha’s voice was soft and reassuring, and she stepped into the room further, and Tim spoke up.

“Boss, you really gotta stop hiding information from us like, ya know, the fact that sometimes you pass out, or you’re going to give poor Martin an early heart attack”

Martin blushed and stammered at that statement, before moving his hand to Jon’s shoulder.

“Jon, I’m glad you told us, I know it can be hard to be open about those things.”

Jon nodded, and slowly started to push himself off the floor, and Martin immediately started to help him up, Tim grabbed his cane from where it had fallen, offering it to him.

“Let us help you, boss, we are a team after all, aren’t we?”

Jon smiled and nodded, and for a second, felt okay.

#the magnus archives #jon uses a cane #chronic pain #projecting #eds #fibromyalgia

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amoderndreamletdown · 4 years

Text

I’m Sorry- an angsty Willex oneshot

After the Orpheum performance, the Phantoms go back to the studio. However, Julie doesn’t go into the studio that night, leaving Alex, Luke, and Reggie alone to deal with the jolts. This leads to Alex realizing that there’s one person he has to say goodbye to, even if it might be a little selfish.

AKA an au where Julie didn’t go into the studio after the Orpheum performance.

It didn’t work. The Orpheum was supposed to be their unfinished business, but it wasn’t, and now they were fading faster than before.

“What do we do now?” Reggie asked, looking at Luke and Alex. They had poofed back to the studio after their performance. They didn’t know where else to go.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Luke admitted.

Reggie hung his head, and Alex did the same. There was nothing they could do. They just had to accept their fate. They were going to fade away. Forever.

“What if Julie comes in here?” Alex asked Luke.

“She won’t,” Luke said, “she’ll go straight to bed.”

Alex nodded. Secretly he hoped Julie would walk in. He just wanted to see her one last time so he could say goodbye. Maybe it was selfish. He didn’t want Julie to see them suffering and, if she didn’t come in, she’d just think they had crossed over. She’d never have to get hurt. However, there was one person Alex wanted to see. Someone he needed to say goodbye to. Someone who he owed everything to.

“I need to go find Willie,” Alex told Luke and Reggie. He didn’t wait for a response, however, and simply poofed away to the spot he had met Willie. It was a long shot expecting him to be there, but it was one of the few places Alex thought to look. Lucky for Alex, Willie was there.

“Alex?” Willie asked through tears, seeing Alex appear in front of him.

Alex gave Willie a small smile. However, it was quickly gone as another one of Caleb’s jolts hit Alex. He fell forward and was barely caught by Willie.

“I am so sorry,” Willie said, but he didn’t have to. Alex already knew.

“I know,” Alex told him. “I forgive you.”

Willie’s face brightened, and some of the guilt faded from his face. However, it quickly took over his face again as yet another jolt hit Alex.

“I’m okay,” Alex told Willie, seeing the pain in his face.

Willie shook his head. “This is all my fault.”

“No,” Alex said, taking Willie’s hand. It was kind of awkward as Willie was still holding Alex, but he managed.

“We can still fix this,” Willie said. “If I just go to Caleb-”

Alex shook his head. “It’s too late. I don’t have much time and-” another jolt. “I just wanna spend it with you.”

Willie smiled. “Okay.”

Alex returned the smile. “What are you gonna do after, ya know-”

“Let’s not think about that,” Willie said. “Just think of now.”

Alex nodded, but it was hard to just focus on the present when he knew that, when the sun rose, he wouldn’t be there anymore. Not on Earth, not anywhere. He’d simply be gone, and forgotten, lost to time. It had been a fear of his for a while, but, now, somehow, with Willie, he felt safe. Not necessarily calm, but safe.

“You’ll be okay,” Willie told him. “I’ll be okay. Everything’ll be okay.”

Alex nodded. He wasn’t sure if Willie was trying to assure himself or Alex, but it didn’t really matter. Just hearing the words made Alex feel safe and, well, okay.

“Just promise you, um, you’ll remember me,” Alex said. He knew it was cheesy, but he, if someone, just someone remembered him, then he wouldn’t even fade away. Not completely at least.

“Of course I will, Hotdog,” Willie promised.

Alex smiled. He was barely hanging on now and could feel himself getting weaker with every second.

“I, think, um, I think this is it,” Alex told Willie.

Willie smiled sadly and pulled Alex in for a hug. Willie stood on his tiptoes and placed a kiss on Alex’s forehead. “I love you, Hotdog.”

“I love you too,” Alex said, placing a kiss on the top of Willie’s head. He held onto Willie and Willie held onto him, neither one of them wanting to let go. They just wanted to stay in this moment. Forever.

“‘Catch you later, Hotdog,” Willie said, watching as Alex began to fade away.

Alex just smiled and held onto Willie tighter, and as he faded away, he focused on Willie even after his vision was gone, and there was almost nothing left of him he focused on Willie. He told himself it was okay. Willie said it was okay. He had to let go.

And he did. One second he was there, not exactly alive, but conscious. The next, gone, faded, lost to the world, and, in his last moments, he didn’t care. He only cared that Willie was there, and that maybe he had made an effect on the world whether it was through music or Willie, and, to Alex, that was all that mattered.

Willie had screamed Alex’s name over and over long after he was gone. He wasn’t sure how long it had been when he stopped, but he was aware of the bright sun and the bustle of people walking around Hollywood Boulevard. They were all happy. How could they be so happy with Alex gone? How could they be okay when Willie was falling apart?

Willie’s knees buckled as whatever the ghost equivalent of adrenaline was wore off. The crushing realization of what had happened dawned on him. Alex was gone. Forever, and no amount of pleading or screaming would solve that. Of course, Willie wasn’t ready to accept that.

Willie’s didn’t get up from that spot for the rest of the day. Many people came and went, most of whom walked right through Willie, but he stayed, head down, tears in his eyes as he sat there, waiting. Waiting for Alex to come back, and crying harder each hour he didn’t.

“I’m sorry, Hotdog,” he whispered to the sky. “I’m sorry.”

#wow this hurt to write #I'm sorry #willex #jatp #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie nolastname #willie jatp #angst

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tunesscribbles · 4 years

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Peter Maximoff x Reader Love Run

(to show that love's worth running to)

Peter's journey from a dumbass teen with thinly veiled commitment issues to a slightly less dumbass adult-ish person (with a range of other issues)

almost 7k words, gender neutral reader, title from ‘Not Yet / Love Run‘

tw: panic attack (begin and end marked with *)

Peter was standing in line with the rest of the X-Men while Mystique and Hank gave them the rundown for the next mission. He was fiddling with his hands behind his back. Today shaped up to become another one of his "Can't-Stay-Still-Even-If-He-Tried"-Days. He reached around Kurt's back to sneakily poke your side. This earned him a stifled squeal as well as a scalding look from Mystique. He retreated his hand quickly while mouthing an unapologetic "Sorry" at Mystique, who only rolled her eyes and turned around to show the team the location on the map. He noticed a movement on his right just in time to dodge your attempt to poke him back. You huffed silently. Peter had to bite the inside of his cheek in order not to grin as Mystique turned back towards them.

(Wait, that's not right. Best to tell a story from the beginning.)

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He tried to smile, failed. "So like, no problem."

Peter can't hear his own thoughts. He doesn't recognize a word he is saying until it is too late and they already tumbled out of his mouth. For perhaps the first time in his young life, he feels as if the world is moving too fast and rushing by him instead of the other way around. He doesn't know how you two ended up like this. As far as his memories serve, this was just another friday afternoon, but something must have gone terribly wrong because you look like you are going to burst into tears any second now and all signs point to it being his fault.

"Hey, what – what's up with you?" He scrambled to get off of the couch and move over to where you were standing.

"What's up with me?", you repeated incredulously as you took a step back, away from him. Peter stopped his approach in an instand. "You want to know what's up with me, did you even listen to anything I said? Anything you said?", your voice grew louder as you went on and you pointed an accusing finger at him.

Peter threw up his arms in confusion. "Apparantly not!"

You shook your head in dejected disbelief. "I can't believe you-", whatever you wanted to say was interrupted by a choked sob. You were struggling to keep the tears from flowing.

He wants to say something – anything, but hadn't he said enough already? His tongue seems to be stuck to the roof of his mouth, so talking is out of the question anyway.

"You know what the worst thing about this is?", a shaky laugh escaped your throat. "Deep down I knew. I fucking knew there was something off! I just didn't want to believe it, so I didn't ask. God, I should've fucking asked!" You slapped your forehead.

Peter swallowed even though his mouth felt dry. He lifted his hand, as if to touch your shoulder but he dropped it again. "[Name], don't-"

"Shut up! You are such a selfish bastard. I-I don't need this. Goodbye Peter." You turned on your heel and rushed to exit the basement.

"Wait, hold on-"

"Don't worry about it, Peter. No problem, right?" The door slammed shut.

If Peter had known back then that this was the last time he would see your face for years, he probably would have gone after you. (Who is he kidding, he wouldn't have, not at the time.)

(Not the start either, keep going.)

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"Hey, I like your hair!" His head whipped around to face whoever was talking to him and to see whether they were mocking him or not. They seemed honest enough.

"Thanks, grew it myself." He cracked a smile, which you returned, albeit a bit unsurely.

Might as well. "The name's Peter Maximoff, you are?"

"I'm [Name]."

"Pleased to meet ya." Peter extended his hand towards you but pulled it away right before you could grab it.

(Okay - now fast forward.)

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"The hell are you doing up here?", you asked after you had to poke your head through the opened skylight to find Peter sitting on the roof.

"I could ask you the same thing." He looked around to find the source of your voice.

"You can't actually.", he heard you remark and rolled his eyes. "Because I am not currently 'up here'." When he looked back over to you, your head had disappeared but he could hear you move around inside.

"Alright then, let me rephrase that: The hell are you doing in there?"

"Got myself a chair.", you replied and reemerged from the window, now more than a head and neck. Peter couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. You grinned as if you were proud of your achievement. He suddenly felt rather warm on his spot on the roof and the afternoon sun had nothing to do with it.

"Do you ever get the sudden urge to sit on your roof?", he asked to answer your initial question and following that opened his arms as if to add: 'So here I am.'

You nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I get that sometimes, but then I remember I don't want to break my neck falling down and die."

"It's not that dangerous, come on!" He waved at you to join him. You did not look very convinced, so he added: "You're not gonna die, don't worry. Even if you should fall, I'll catch you!"

You pondered his proposition for a moment before giving in with a sigh.

He helped you climb up and you talked for a while. During the conversation you must have shifted closer because now your shoulders were pressed together. Should both of you turn to look at each other at the same time, Peter thought, the tips of your noses might just meet in the middle. He was drumming his fingers on the roof tile until you stopped him by taking his hand into yours.

He looked down at your joint hands. Peter could not remember when this thing between you had begun. It was not like he didn't like you, he did (probably more than he realised at the time), but he hoped you knew this was all just fun and goofs. He never meant to lead you on or anything. It was simply second nature, almost, for him to poke and prod when he was curious, to see if he could, to mess around with things (until they break, one might add looking back).

You gave his hand a playful squeeze and he forgot about his worries instantly. Peter grinned, just lopsided enough to convey a hint of mischief. Then with one quick motion he positioned himself so that he went from sitting next to you to leaning over you with one hand on either side of your body.

"What are you grinning at?" Was that a bit of a blush crawling up on your cheeks?

"You, obviously.", he replied in a hushed voice and grinned just a bit wider before leaning further down.

He felt you relax underneath him. Instead of rushing in to steal the kiss, Peter paused as his lips were millimeters away from yours. He found himself drawing out the drumroll, something he usually never did, being way too impatient. Warm breath ghosted over his lips; his heart was beating excitedly. He wanted to drag the moment out a little longer, enjoy the soaring feeling in his chest for another second (like the guitar riff building up to the big reprise).

Suddenly Peter's foot slipped, his eyes went wide, his body slid downwards – until he was caught by your hand on his arm. He let out a breathless whistle.

"We should go back in-"

- "Let's go back inside.", he agreed quickly. "Always preferred my basement anyway."

" 'I'll catch you', my ass!", you muttered as you cautiously made your way back to the window.

(Blah, blah, blah – Alright, jump further.)

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Peter stopped dead in this tracks when he saw you at Xavier's for the first time. Well, that's one face he expected never to see again, especially not in this place.

"Hey", if he sounded breathless, he could blame it on running.

"Hey", you replied, equally surprised to see Peter again after all these years.

An awkward silence ensued. He had no clue what to say. Was he allowed to ask why you were here? Were there rules for social interactions with your "not-really-but-kind-of"-Ex? (Also, wasn't he supposed to be doing something else?)

"So, what are you up to?", you finally asked, just as he blurted out: "What are you doing here?"

This was going well. "I, uh, I live here. Well, mostly I work here, but I guess I do live here, too.", he answered first.

"You're a teacher?", you seemed surprised. Fair enough, he was, too, some days.

"Part time, yeah." He shuffled his feet.

"Ah, that's nice."

"It is. What are you doing here? I haven't seen you- " (in years) "-around."

"Oh no, I just got here. I'm actually here to talk to the Professor, I have a meeting with him, sort of." For a moment he thought you were going to elaborate but it seemed as if this was all the information he was going to get.

"His office is down the hall, door should be open, so it's hard to miss."

"Thanks.", with that you left him standing in the hallway.

Cool. Coolcoolcoolcool This was a thing now. He turned around to look for you, shook his head and went on to do what he was supposed to, albeit mildly distracted.

(Actually, this might be were it really starts.

Another start to the same story.)

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Getting to know each other again after a decade was...weird. Peter felt like he should know about things that are complete news to him. (How you were a mutant, too, for example, albeit a late bloomer.) He could still see your teenage self when he looked at you but then the longer he looked, the more you seemed like a stranger in a nostalgic disguise.

At first he tried to avoid you and he could tell you tried the same. However, no matter how fast he could run, the mansion was only so big and there were only so many other people inside it. Also, dodging Ororo's attempts to get you two to talk had become increasingly difficult at some point. So now you were on speaking terms once more and kind of friends? He was still unsure about the last part.

"You've always been reckless, but now I'm starting to think you don't have any sense of self-preservation at all.", you said after Peter told you the story of Apocalypse. The world outside the kitchen window was dark. It had been raining all day and it seemed as if the storm would continue well into the night. Training had been rough, apparently he was not the only one unable to sleep. Somehow coincidentally meeting in the kitchen had turned into exchanging life stories. (Peter managed to ignore the stabbing ache of familiarity for the most part.)

"I'll have you know, I have by far the most sense of self-preservation out of the X-Men, apart from Ororo maybe." He nursed his cup of instant hot chocolate, as if that somehow proved his point.

"Sure, Peter.", you replied and rolled your eyes.

"Hey, I did a lot of maturing in the meantime! Aged like a fine wine in my mom's basement for ten years." Like that was something to be proud of.

You squinted your eyes at him. "You spent all that time in your basement?"

Yes "Nah, just-", he shrugged, "figuratively speaking."

You nodded, not entirely convinced, and took a sip from your own cup. Your face scrunched up. "The instant stuff sucks."

"Slander!," He feigned offence. "Don't you dare! I was raised on-"

"-Instant packages and Twinkies, I know.", you finished the familiar statement with a smile. For a moment it felt like no time had passed at all since late nights at his mother's house. A strong longing overcame him.

"The only things with enough sugar and chemicals to satisfy my needs.", Peter continued but his voice became choked towards the end. This suddenly felt like the bizarre reenactment of a memory. The longing sensation quickly morphed into a familiar ten year old guilt that gnawed away at his insides. (He let it.) In the following silence, the rain plattered loudly against the window.

"I think I'm gonna go back to bed.", you said after a moment passed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight.", he repeated and was relieved the conversation was over before he had the chance to say something really stupid, like: I miss you.

(Fast forward.)

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"I'm fine.", he said a bit too blatantly not fine. "Just give me two minutes."

You looked at him and hesitated. "Are you sure?"

He wished hearing your voice didn't comfort him as much as it did. Maybe it was less about your voice specifically and rather about having any kind of noise outside his own head.

"You can go." Please don't leave, don't fucking leave him here-

His thoughts must have gone through to you because you stayed.

"I don't think you should be alone right now.", you said after a moment of consideration and moved to sit down in front of him. "Is this okay?"

He doesn't know what to say, how to form words at all, so he simply nods.

"Do you want to talk about it?", you offered.

Peter swallowed and managed to glance up at you. "No.", his voice sounded so small.

It was your turn to nod. "That's alright, you don't have to. Just, try to take deep breaths, okay?"

You exaggerated your own breathing to make it easier for him to follow along. He doesn't know how much time passed while he tried to get his breathing pattern to some semblance of normal, but eventually, he got there.

And you were still there with him. Sitting on the floor in the laundry room. Nothing made sense.

He wants, but he can't have it, wouldn't know what to do with it if he had it. For the fraction of a moment, he thought kissing you would be a nice and absolutely horrifying idea.

"Do you think we would've had a chance if I hadn't been a jerk about it?", he asked instead, not quite sane yet but trying at least.

"I don't know, Peter. Would we have been anything to begin with if you hadn't been a jerk about it?", you countered with a hint of bitterness.

He laughed but there was no humor in it. "Probably not."

"Is this what's troubling you?" The bitterness made way for more concern and Peter kind of wanted to cry.

"No, it's--"

He briefly considered just spilling all his guts right then. To just lay it all out for you to see and decide which parts of him were worth keeping. To have someone else make sense of this mess.

Peter sighed and gestured vaguely with one hand. "it's a part of it but not--There's a whole thing and I don't know what to do about any of it." He looked at you as if in search of an answer, even though he knew he couldn't expect that from you.

"Have you tried taking the 'thing' apart and going at it that way?"

"I--haven't. Where would I even start?" (Basements, rooftops, prisons, deserts, mansions--)

"Is Erik a part of it?" The name made him freeze up.

"I've noticed you become much--quieter, less like yourself when he's around.", you explained and Peter is stuck on the fact that you noticed. Was he that obvious?

"I--It's not, it's nothing--", he sputtered, not knowing what he wanted to say at all. No, he didn't want to say anything. For some reason the possibility of you knowing scared him more than anything else at the moment.

"Mystique told me." you continued a bit sheepishly, "I asked her about you and she, she told me about Erik."

"Oh my god," he groaned, all fear forgotten in his annoyance. "At the speed she's running her mouth, I'm surprised he doesn't know yet!" He burrowed his head in his hands. You gave him the time to compose himself, which he was thankful for.

He lifted his head a little to catch sight of your expression as he quietly asked: "What do you think?" - about Erik, about Peter, about what this made Peter, about-

You took a deep breath before replying. "I think you should tell him if only to get some peace of mind because you are clearly lacking that at the moment. This could be a start."

He hates that you are right, he hates that everyone except himself is always right about everything in his life.

"Hey," You took hold of his wrist and brushed your thumb over the inside in a soothing manner. "You don't have to do it alone. We're all here for you if you need us, be it to talk to Erik or to tackle any other part of your 'thing'." He felt like he did not deserve the softness in your eyes.

You got up to beginn putting the laundry you brought with you into the washing machine. "I do think you should talk to someone more professional about this, too. Like the professor or the counsellor the others mentioned."

"Yeah, I'll look into it.", he lied.

(Turn back just a bit and let it run.)

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Peter felt not unlike a cassette tape with its magnetic band spilling out.

*He's unsure what sent him over the edge, maybe the fact that Erik visited the school - well, the Professor, he's only ever here for the Professor and Peter can't even blame him because Erik doesn't know any better – or maybe that last conversation with you that left him confused and aching but he doesn't understand, this is over, long over and he was the one who put the nail on the coffin, or maybe the counselling Ororo and Jean kept recommending to him even though it has been a year since Apocalypse happened and he's fine or maybe, maybe this was a long time coming anyway.

He was hiding in the laundry room. (No one went here, unless they had to.)

His body was visibly shaking, damn near vibrating. In the back of his mind he kept thinking the force of the vibration could rattle the foundation so much that the entire building will come crashing down on him. It would be kind of cool, if it wasn't also a dumb way to die. And he really did not want to think about ways to die.

(Desert, ruins, magnetic fields, snap—crack—twist) – Here we go again.

He reached up to grip his hair--something to ground him--and that immediately made it ten times worse. Peter sucked in a sharp breath and fumbled for his walkman instead, only to remember he left it in his room. He cursed silently.

He could go and get it, no one would see him. (He would still see other people, though.)

Just back and forth, wouldn't take any time at all. (He doesn't think he can get up, maybe his leg's still fucked up-)

Peter cursed again; it came out as a sob. He curled up more tightly and pressed his forehead against his knees.

How everyone can be so calm about any of this was beyond his understanding. People died, a lot of people, he saw the news. He had called his mother after the apocalypse. He had never heard her sound so scared before. ('Where are you? Are you okay? What happened? Did you tell him? Did he hurt you?') The last two still circle around in his head. Did you tell him?Did you tell him?Did you tell him?- How could he have? The man was literally tearing the world apart as they spoke, did Peter really want to admit being his son? Did he want that kind of connection? Did he hurt you?- No, he did stand by and watch Peter get hurt, though.

His knee jerked almost reflexively. He had never felt so helpless before, so trapped--except maybe right now, stuck in a mansion filled with so many relationships that aren't what they could be--He's not stuck, he can leave anytime. If he wanted, he could get up and run as fast as he can. They would never get him. - Would they even look for him? Or would they be glad he was gone? After all, only one person had seemed to care enough to step when Apocalypse had him by his hair. (He can't blame the kids, they didn't even know him. He can't blame anyone, it was fucking Apocalypse-) What if Mystique hadn't stepped in? What if Erik hadn't switched sides last minute? He would be dead, same as most of the world's population. Would that be better than dealing with the fallout?--The sudden thought terrifies him.--But would it?--No.

Faintly, he hears a door open and just hopes whoever entered won't--

"Oh, Peter. What are you doing down here?" He must make quite the sad sight cowering next to the washing machine, hugging his knees and back pressed to the cold basement wall. "Are you alright? Should I call someone?"

He tried to suppress his shivering and get enough air into his aching lungs to form words.*

"I'm fine.", he said a bit too blatantly not fine. "Just give me two minutes."

(We know it from here, skip ahead.)

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The night before, the X-men had drunkenly built a blanket-fort in the mansion's main living room area. It had been a lot of fun and a lot of chaos, but that was not the part of last night's memories Peter kept replaying in his head. He may have been very drunk at that point and the details were fuzzy, but he knew for sure that it had happened. (--quick breaths, warm lips, tracing hands--) His face flushed at the memory.

On the stairs leading down to the training area, he finally ran into you after more than half a day spent either actively looking for or avoiding you. (When he first caught a glimpse of you, he almost let his flight instinct take over.)

You were going down, he was going up and now you were both in each other's way.

"Hey, [Name].", he said in a voice that could pass as steady. His heart was beating out of his chest.

Your expression looked pained and you tried your best to hide it by avoiding eye contact.

"Can we talk about this tomorrow?" you sounded tired in a way that caught yourself off guard. The "or never" was well implied.

Peter thought about giving in and letting go, but what good would it do to continue this state of charged awkwardness? What good would it do to try and keep this ache behind his lungs under lock and key when you seemingly felt the same? He shook his head.

You sighed. "I--we drank a lot and--"

I adore you, he thought and shoved that sentiment down as quickly as he could. It's what has gotten him into this mess in the first place.

Blood thrumming in his veins, he summoned all his courage (or perhaps all his recklessness). "I'm sorry." He said and something inside him felt like it was about to topple over. "I never apologized for what I did and I want you to know that I am sorry."

Now you were looking at him. Surprise, hurt and so much more.

"And I want you to know that I-," he had to look away, unable to deal with this part head-on, "I've changed since then." (Is it still lying when he himself wants it to be true? Yes.)

A plop, you've let yourself sink to the floor to sit down on the stairs. You hit his leg. "No, you don't just get to do that. That's not--" You cut yourself off.

He kneeled down in front of you. Dark brown eyes met tear-stained ones. For the first time it occurred to him that you could be just as scared.

"It's been so long, I shouldn't still be hung up about this! God, I feel so stupid." You buried your face in your hands.

Peter tried not to shake as he took your hands in his. "You're not stupid, at least not stupider than me. We both know that'd be a challenge!" He smiled and you let out a chuckle despite yourself. "We can be hung up about it together if you want?"

"Are you sure? Because I can't do all that again, I won't."

He gave your hands a squeeze. "I am, and we--we don't have to jump into this, we can take it slow." (Loophole)

You looked at him for a moment, searching, thinking. A slow smile spread across your face.

When you pulled him in for a kiss, it was like he saw the sun after spending days inside. He could get drunk off of just this.

(Let it roll for a bit.)

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Peter caught the water bottle you threw his way.

Endurance training had been on today's schedule, so Peter let the students run laps on the compound while he zipped from runner to runner to offer encouragement and telling them how much longer they needed to go. It had gone well, some kids had to give up before the end but no one had to be brought to the nurse (Hank).

"It's still strange seeing you as a teacher."

"Wow, thanks for all this faith you're putting in me." He passed the bottle back to you.

"You can wrap that sarcasm back up, I was gonna say you're a good teacher. It's just funny to me because you were hardly present at school back then, but I guess that has nothing to do with the ability to teach." You put your hand on his shoulder. "You're great at what you do."

"Yeah, well," he felt heat rush up to his face, "...I try."

You smiled fondly at him and kissed his cheek. "I know."

Something about this little interaction made him feel like that time he tried to swallow a Twinkie in whole and it got lodged in his throat. He tried to form a coherent reply but the words were not coming. Your hand fell from his shoulder and he was oddly dejected and relieved at the same time (the latter made him feel guilty without knowing why).

This was what he wanted, the--(intimacy)--relationship-y stuff, then why did it put him so on edge? After all, it wasn't that different from how you used to be before he had officially messed it up, right? - Wrong. This was no "fun-and-goofs"-make-pretend, this was the real deal, he agreed to it. He was going to do it right this time around. He was going to be a good--(boyfriend?partner?lover?)-- He was going to be good. He could do this, he wanted to.

You took his hand into yours and let them swing back and forth for a bit. "Everything okay?"

Peter smiled down at the way your hands touched. "Yeah, I'm good." He just wished he didn't want to run away, too.

"Did you have lunch yet? Because I'm starving! We can see what's in the kitchen.", you suggested.

"Sounds like a plan. You go ahead, I just gotta take care of some teacher-business.", he slipped his hand out of your grasp to pick up his stopwatch.

"Okay, I'll see you in a moment then.", he did not pick up on your questioning undertone.

"Yeah.", he said and left. (He didn't join you for lunch, even though he felt terrible about it.)

(Jump ahead.)

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It was bound to happen eventually.

"You don't seem happy." - "Neither do you."

He should've known you could not go on like that forever. Maybe this was never a forever sort of thing.

"You keep avoiding me and I don't know what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, I'm not-"

"If you try and deny it, I swear to god!"

He winced then, guilty. You sighed.

"You need to talk to me about these things, I can't help you if you shut me out." almost pleading.

"I'm fine," he insisted. All senseless stubbornness.

It didn't get better after that. How could it?

"I just--I've had enough, Peter. I don't need a repeat of our teenage years!" You were stressed and angry and willing to hurt, the worst combination.

"I'm trying!" He wasn't much better off.

"Are you?"

"Yes! I'm trying my best!"

"Maybe that's not good enough!", your voice broke on the last syllable.

He threw his arms up. "Well, what do you want me to do then?"

"I—I'm just sick of you letting me dangle in the air, okay? I'm sick of everything being up in the air!"

(Skip, Skip, Skip - There had to be a way to get past this.) Cold anger was worse, always worse.

"When you apologized, you told me you changed."

"I have!" He said, but didn't believe it himself.

"You got better but you're still the same in the worst places."

Something finally tipping over. "You act like it was all my fault, as if you never did anything wrong!"

"I didn't know-"

"You said you knew! You knew but never asked because then you would've had to make an effort." Spitting acid.

"That's completely different!" Voice growing louder, too.

"You told me I didn't care enough. You left as soon as things stopped being all sunshine!" When had he started shouting?

"I was a teenager, okay? A dumb fucking teenager!"

"What do you think I was?" Silence ringing in his head for days.

(Skip, skip, skip, skip, skip-)

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He just finished wrapping up things on his end and was about to check in with the rest of the team. It was this deceptive part of the mission right before the end when everything feels like smooth sailing and you almost forget it is not quite over yet.

"Quicksilver here, everything's done on my end, how's it looking?"

Scott answered: "That's good. The situation looks stable so far, meet-up at-"

A scream pierced through his comms and Peter felt his blood run cold.

"What happened?"

"Guys-", your voice came through distorted, "we---we forgot---"

Static. The line was dead.

(Too far, rewind.)

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It was just another friday afternoon.

Last week the attempted assassination of the president may have sent the nation into a panic but the past is the past, right? (Apart from the fact that Peter played a minor role in said past and even farther apart from the confession his mother dropped on him the other day, turns out there aren't that many guys who control metal - Nope, not going there. ) Just another friday afternoon.

All the agitated energy that had been cursing through his veins for weeks and caused him to jump at the opportunity to do anything interesting, anything to keep him busy – (Even prison break? But come on, the Pentagon!) - all that energy was back now, except it was not quite the same, was it? Last week he had a lot less on his conscience. (Last week he didn't know his father, holy shit-) If he was cruising for a bruising then, what does that make him now?

Either way, the last thing he needed right then was-

"Peter, we need to talk.", you said gravely after standing silently at the bottom of the stairs.

"Is that so?" His eyes remained glued to the screen of his stolen arcade machine. You had been eerily quiet so far and that conversation opener rarely lead to anything pleasant. Maybe if he didn't look at you, then-

"Peter. We need to talk." The repetition somehow made it sound even worse. "And I need you to listen, actually listen, okay?"

I don't know if I can, he wanted to say, but didn't. Instead he turned around to look at you.

The expression on your face reminded him of his mum, right before she told him. You looked like what you were about to say would hurt, both of you. Don't say it then, he wanted to interject, as if not saying it could somehow stop it from becoming real. There was something else there too, besides the dread. Something like morbid curiosity, which is why instead he said: "Go on then, I'm all ears!"

You took a deep breath. "I think we should break up."

Say what now?

"I like you a lot Peter, I do, but I don't feel like you...I feel like you don't really care about our relationship. You've been weirdly distant and we never really talk about what's up, it's just-" You sighed, clearly frustrated with yourself for being unable to explain.

Oh. No, that's- that's not-

- "Our relationship?", he interrupted. (Someone give him something to do, something that isn't this. Aren't there any prisons left to break into?)

"Yes. Our relationship.", you confirmed with an edge of confusion.

"Who said I was your boyfriend?" A pause, like he was watching his life on VHS and finally found the remote. Just in time to be a little too late. (He was sensing a pattern here...)

The series of emotions washing over your expression were difficult for him to read. Confusion seemed to win out for the moment. "What? Peter, we have been-"

"We haven't been anything." The blood in his veins felt like it was slowly freezing, trapping what's left of his energy inside, leaving him completely still. Even his knee stopped bouncing.

"Are you serious right now? After all the- you've got to be kidding me!", an edge of desperation crept into your voice.

(Eject, eject, eject- That's not how it works.)

"I'm not." Good God, what is he saying? Someone tell him what the hell he's talking about because he sure as fuck doesn't know. "And we're not. In a relationship, I mean. Never were, never will be if I caught your drift there." He swallowed, found it much harder than it used to be. "If this is about what we did the last couple of-" He didn't know, he didn't know anything anymore, "-whatever, don't worry about it. It doesn't mean--not like that anyway."

He tried to smile, failed. "So like, no problem."

(Not this far back. We know how that ends.)

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Peter had prepared himself for anything when you asked him to meet you after dinner. Anything, except an apology.

A small "What?" fell from his lips. The rain pattering against the windows was almost loud enough to drown it out.

"I'm sorry, Peter," you repeated. "I'm so, so sorry for all the awful things I said and did and-"

This didn't make any sense, stop, stop, stop- "Stop. I-," He sputtered for a moment, feeling like he missed something. (He didn't deserve this.) "I don't, I don't get it." was what he settled on. "Why are you apologising?"

"Why shouldn't I apologise to you, Peter?", you sounded so concerned and sad and-- It didn't make any sense.

Peter threw his arms up. "You were right! About everything!" He could feel the hysteria setting in, he didn't care.

"No, no that's not-"

"I never changed, I didn't try hard enough, I should've talked to you more, I should've--I--I-"

You grabbed his hands out of the air to hold them in a tight grip. "No! I was wrong, Peter." You held onto his hands for a moment until his breathing calmed down a little. Then you loosened your grip again and sighed. "We can't keep going like this."

Peter let his hands slip from your grasp. "So you'll leave?" (Again)

"No, I want us to fix this!", frustration with an edge of desperation. "We have to talk about this for once."

Peter looked down at his silver running shoes. "What's there to talk about?"

You laughed, it was a wet, ugly sound. "You're doing it again, I can't--I don't know what to do when you get like this!"

He swallowed around the growing lump in his throat. "Like what?"

"I feel like you're always halfway out the door." It felt like the fight with Apocalypse all over again. Your words ripped him out of his element and forcefully brought him back to reality. He almost expected someone to knock his leg out from under him. "You're never fully in but you don't want to leave either."

What could he say to that? What could he possibly say when it's the truth? Ready to run at the drop of a shoe, be it ten years ago in a basement stocked to the ceiling with stolen goods or now in a mansion filled with mutant kids who turn to him for advice.

"In my defense, " God, his voice was shaking. When's that punch gonna come and twist his arm? "do you have any idea how easy it is to run away when you're better at it than everyone else? Running away is literally my specialty!"

You cradled his face in your hands. "You are so much more than that."

The tears stinging his eyes began to blur his vision. "How? I'm scared all the time, I'm fucking terrified!"

"And that's okay!" You searched his eyes for some sign your words got through to him. "It's okay to be scared."

He kissed you then, trembling and filled with fear. He pulled back a moment later, brushing away tears with one hand. "Even if it's this I'm scared of?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise."

"That isn't your fault."

You continued as if you hadn't heard him. "All this time, I was still angry at you, I held on to that anger instead of trying to understand why." You tried not to sob and took a deep breath. "So when you asked me to give you another chance, part of me expected the worst to happen again. I didn't question it when you got distant. I just let it get worse because I already thought this was what's gonna happen anyway."

The rain stopped falling a while ago. The resulting silence felt like a lifetime. "So did I." His voice barely more than a whisper.

"You-" Eyes went wide, tears welled up and spilled over. "Why would you do that? Why would you put yourself in-"

"I don't know." Peter shrugged helplessly. "I don't know," he repeated. The self-deprecating chuckle died in his throat when he finally looked at you again. "I guess, I missed you."

Wordlessly, you pulled him into an embrace, twisting your hands in the back of his leather jacket. Peter was startled for a second, then he returned the hug.

"I missed you, too," you mumbled, face buried in his shirt, "and I don't want to keep on missing you when you're right here." His arms tightened their grib around you involuntarily.

Resolution flooded his veins and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "We'll get better."

(Now forward.)

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

For a while neither of you spoke. Just two people, sitting on the roof, enjoying the view and breathing lungs full of crisp evening air. Peter looked over at you, watched your profile in the dimming daylight and found a thought cross his mind: I could get used to this. Followed by: I think I may already be.

Your face turned. "What are you smiling at?", you asked even though you were smiling, too.

"You, obviously." You pushed his grinning face away with your hands.

Peter laughed lightheartedly. "Careful! You're gonna push me off the roof!"

"Don't tempt me."

He stole a peck. "Wouldn't dream of it."

For a moment he remembered a different interaction on a different roof a decade ago, though for once he did not feel the need to ruminate on it.

He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. Right now, the world for Peter began and ended where his body touched yours, from the soothing press of your head against his own, to your intertwined hands and the line where your thighs brushed against each other.

Forever did not scare him anymore.

(Pause here - just for a moment.

Okay.)

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

His thoughts are racing as he speeds through unfamiliar hallways. What did they forget? What did they forget? Everything was going so well, what did they forget?

It's already over when he gets there. Nothing greets him but rubble where the failed portal used to loom over a secret laboratory. Peter shouts your name. No one answers.

He's turning over every piece of scrap metal by the time the rest of the x-men arrive, on the off chance that you're still there, just buried underneath some debris, alive, not gone. Someone is pulling on his arm, talking to him. None of the words register. Finally he is pulled back by someone stronger. The metal beam floating in the air mid-fall above where he stood a moment ago sinks to the ground.

"Peter," it's Erik, his father is talking to him, "Charles and Hank are figuring out the portal, we'll get them back." Peter looks at him but stares right through. He's more terrified than he's ever been.

(Don't let this be the end. Go back.

One more time.)

#peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff #petester mcspeedster #reader insert #the scribbles #x men days of future past #x men apocalypse #dark pheonix who?#angst #hurt #hurt/comfort #some fluff #is this a reader insert or a character study? yes #x men reader insert

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lavendertwilight89 · 4 years

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For @hnnwnchstr. Better times are ahead.

And of course there’s smoots for her :)

Here is the link to AO3

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Sometimes life got him down… But he’d had hundreds of years to cope with that. His human companions, however, always seemed to take their failure harder. Even when the blame should always fall on him.

He was the strongest and oldest in the pack. It made him the alpha. Their setbacks were his own.

Yea, don’t get him wrong. He took defeat and loss hard. But there’d always be a new day. Unless you were dead. And if you lived to tell the tale, then fuck, why stay depressed about it?

What killed him more than anything though was seeing a young woman that had stolen his heart upset about anything. She blamed herself for shattering the jewel, causing all the death, destruction…

But it wasn’t her fault. Not really. Sure he blamed her, called her names, made her feel guilty about the whole mess; but in reality, it was his fault. If he hadn’t had been such a jackass to her, calling her names, making her feel ugly, being an immature asshole--she wouldn’t have run away. She wouldn’t have been caught, and the crow demon wouldn’t have gotten a hold of the jewel. Even then, if he had been more encouraging, patient, maybe they would have been able to recover the jewel together before she shot it out of the sky.

But no. He was a fucking jerk. He should have seen from the moment she crashed down in front of him when she was being chased by the nasty ass centipede that she wasn’t Kikyo. She was nothing like her in terms of spirit, spunk, demeanor, and even as time went on--she looked less and less like her. Her beauty was far more natural; just like she was. She wasn’t overbearingly poised, stiff, cold. Kagome overflowed radiance and kindness. Kikyo had been a beautiful, untouchable woman… But Kagome was gorgeous. Kind. Warm. Everything Kikyo had not been, Kagome was.

He thought he had loved Kikyo; but he was a fool. He had no idea what love really was after traveling with Kagome. Having her care for him. Talk to him. Touch him as if he wasn’t tainted. No one had ever tried to rub his ears, hold his clawed hands, hold him when he was ready to cave in on himself… that was until Kagome came along. She made it bearable to be a half-demon in this fucked up world. She made it alright to be himself.

Seeing her hang her head down from another destroyed village they hadn’t made it in time to save, her likely hearing Sango’s quiet comments about how she was glad she never saw her village in such disarray, Miroku’s musings about how anyone would do anything to get the jewel shards…

He wanted to fucking strangle them, but no--she wouldn’t let him. Originally he growled at them, but she soothed him and plastered her fake caring smile on her face. Then proceeded to ask him to help them lay the villagers to rest. He was hopeless to tell her no--well, after a few mutters of annoyance. He had an image to maintain, after all.

It wasn’t until into the night when the fire burned low, the stars shined brightly, and the full moon illuminated the land from high in the sky that he heard her sleeping bag ruffle. He looked down to see his delicate pale beauty look around the campsite. What was she looking for?

He caught her shift her gaze up to him. Since he was a coward, he pretended to be asleep. Some more shuffling sounds followed by footsteps had him open his eyes. Seriously, what the fuck was she doing??

Jumping from tree to tree as quietly as possible, he saw her walk out into an open field and sit. She was just gazing up at the stars…

He remembered one of the first times they did that together. The idea of staring at them was stupid--why bother? They didn’t move. They held no real purpose.

But Kagome said they learned a lot about them in her time; how they change from season to season, how they can be used for directions when they knew what season it was. Some had special names, different stories. Legends. Myths. She said after learning demons were real, who knows if those stories were actually as fictional as they had originally been meant to be?

The fascination was still slightly lost on him until she mentioned with the pollution of her time that it made them harder to see unless you were out in more ‘rural’ areas. Places without villages. Like here. She said she loved to look at them--with people who were special to her.

The speech wasn’t lost on him, even though he acted like it was. He knew he was important to her. How could he not be? She didn’t go to school as much, spent most of her time here even though she had a life on the other side of the well…

Even though she said it was to fix her mistakes, he knew that wasn’t the only reason. Or at least he had hoped it wasn’t until he heard her cry out for him when Hakudoshi held her heart.

Confirming, definitely a good piece of it belonged to him. But… he still had no idea what he could offer her? His harsh words and attitude? The fire-rat robe off his back? His father’s sword that held in his demonic blood?

She deserved to have a choice. If she did so happen to choose to stay with him once the jewel was once again complete, without knowledge of his feelings, he’d tell her. He’d build her a hut--if the village accepted them. Fuck, even if they had to live in a cave, he’d still consider himself the luckiest man in all the lands.

He’d do anything for her; and that was why he had to remain silent until there was no jewel driving her mission.

Looking at the back of her didn’t help him figure out what was wrong with her, though. The wind shifted and stirred those wavy ebony locks. Along with the scent that was so Kagome, he smelled a twinge of salt…

She was crying.

Of course she snuck away, so she didn’t wake up her friends… or him.

He jumped down from his tree and walked over to her. She didn’t flinch or move her position from staring up at the sky. Obviously she had been aware of his presence. Her power has certainly grown since she first arrived now. She could clearly pick out different reiki, youki, jyaki, and the jewel shards.

What couldn’t his girl do? Of course he referred to her as his girl; who else would be his? Even if she happened to choose to leave, he doubted he would ever find another as giving, kind, caring, loving, and beautiful as Kagome. Maybe in a couple centuries; but even then he’d likely try and find his way back to her when she was born. See when she grew up if she’d want to try again… But he would also just be happy to be her friend. Why would he get in the way of her happiness? Of her life? He may have been a selfish bastard for now, keeping her from her friends and family, but they had a mission. He had the right to be an ass… Demand the time from her until it was over. Because God forbid she did choose to leave, he’d die from not having spent more time with her.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hey… what’s uh--what’s going on?”

“Just thinking,” she sighed, closing her eyes. Fuck. Why was she so goddamn pretty? Even sitting there, tears trickling down her flushed cheeks, hair blowing with the breeze, and he couldn’t stop looking at her. She was mesmerizing.

“Yea? Care to elaborate? Or ya just gonna keep cryin’ over nothing?” He asked as he plopped down next to her. Jerkface on. Ready to push her to fight with him so that the tears would stop. Maybe even let his face eat the dirt. After a good sit she was usually somehow in a better mood from releasing her anger.

“Sigh…” She opened her eyes and looked at the stars again before she finally shifted her eyes back to him. “I just… I’m stupid. That’s all.”

“Why you say that? You’re the one with all the book learning and crap. You’re probably one of the smarter ones out of our group,” he pointed out. Then he realized he said something nice. Fuck. He was deviating from his plan… But she just looked so broken. Damn. Shit. He had to comfort her; at least that’s what the demon demanded. The human in him was screaming to run and hide and protect her from himself.

Nice. Two very opposing sides fighting in his mind. No wonder being a confusing asshole came so naturally.

“It’s just… You all have lost so much. Some because of me, some not. But still, I feel like I let this get to me… More than it should. I’m able to go home and see my family. Separate myself from all of this and you guys--can’t.

“I’m just pathetic for letting this get to me. I’m just so useless and.. Weak. You were right.”

Before he could think the better of it, he stretched his arm out and hugged her shoulders tightly. “No. I was wrong. So far from wrong. You’re probably the strongest out of all of us, Kagome.”

“Do-Don’t--”

“Don’t what?? Just say shit? I’m not for once. Yea, I know I don’t always think. Especially back then when we first met, first starting traveling together… I know, Kagome. I know I was an asshat. The biggest bastard of them all. I just…”

“Inuyasha, I understand,” she soothed, turning to face him. Her calves were pressed to his thigh now. Without thinking, he pulled her up into his lap.

“Inu--”

“I’m sorry.”

“W-What??”

“Your insecurities--your fears… They’re my fault. I’m to blame.”

“No--stop. Inuyasha I understand why you said those things… It wasn’t because you meant them--not exactly, anyway. You said them out of malice. You were hurt. You were scared to be hurt again by someone who looked exactly like the woman who had literally ripped your heart in two. I get it. I learned you didn’t mean half of what you said. You just said that stuff to protect yourself…”

“Kagome…” How was it possible this woman knew him better than anyone? Was that even fair? Did he know her just as well?

“I know you had a rough life. I’ve seen it. You’ve only warned me time and time again when we’ve gone into villages, stayed out in the woods at night, hunted the jewel shards, even asked our friends to join us. I get it. In the sense that you are the way you are because of it. But I also see through to the real you. I see you for who you really are Inuyasha.”

“You don’t gotta tell me. I know you do…” His claws brushed through her hair and she started to relax further into his hold.

“Inuyasha?”

“What?”

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know… Am I not doing something right?”

Her giggle emerged and he felt the tension in his own body leave. Clearly he was doing okay making her feel better, “I think you’re doing just fine--you just have never… I mean you don’t usually--”

“Everyone needs a different form of comfort, Kagome. Sango usually just needs a pep talk or she needs to just not be groped by that fucking pervert. Miroku has to be joked with or threatened. Shippo… well there ain’t much that gets him down that your fuckin’ pokey won’t fix. Kirara is never sad unless she doesn’t get fish.”

“What about you? How can I--” she turned to face him and her lip snuck its way in between her teeth. “How can I comfort you?”

“By being you. You’ve stayed by my side when you shouldn’t have. You’ve held me even after I slaughtered humans without a second thought. It’s second nature to you, Kagome… You--You don’t know how grateful I am to have you here… even though I don’t show it like I should,” he mumbled the last words hoping she wouldn’t hear the mushy words exit his mouth.

“And you… comfort me how…?” Her eyes with glistening and twinkling like the damn stars. Fuck. Did he mention how beautiful she was? And how unfair her proximity fucked with his head? Was she… what was she asking for? He heard her heart beating erratically. Her face was blushing--but not from crying now. Her scent told a different story. It was one of desire. Want. Need. Fuck.

He wasn’t thinking as he leaned in and closed the distance between their mouths. His lips brushed hers lightly at first, testing to see if she would ultimately reject him like everyone else. But fuck--no, she pressed back harder. Damn; she was ruining his plans.

He pulled back slightly before the kiss got more heated and looked deeply into her lust covered eyes. Damnit. He felt a particular body part rising with her scent and the nonverbal cues she was sending out.

“Kagome--”

“Please--just for tonight--I don’t want to be second. Tomorrow we can just move on but tonight can it just be us?”

“What?” And his dick was under control again. Her words triggered something in his brain to settle the fuck down. “What do you mean ‘second’?”

“I know--I know you don’t care about me like that. And that’s okay. You don’t have to. I know you’re in love with Kikyo. I know you want the jewel. I know you want to avenge Kikyo’s death and the betrayal Naraku caused between the two of you. I get it. I understand. I just-- for tonight can it just be us? No Kikyo? No Naraku? No jewel?”

“Kagome that’s not--”

“Inuyasha--” She leaned in and tried to kiss him again but he pulled back. Here he said she was smart and she actually was the dumbest of them all…

What kind of horse shit was she spewing?

“No--what the fuck, Kagome?! You think you’re fucking second to all those things?!?!”

“Inuyasha shush! We’re not that far from--”

“Shut up! Answer me! You honestly think I put those other things first before you?!”

“Well obviously!! The minute there’s a soul collector you’re out of here! The moment you catch Naraku’s scent, you’re gone! And don’t forget why I’m even here to begin with!! I shattered the jewel! The jewel you want!!”

“Don’t give me that crap Kagome; you and I both know while yea, we kinda need help being able to see and sense the jewel shards I need you. I. Need. You. You. Not Kikyo, not Miroku, not Sango… YOU. Do you have any idea what kind of person I would be--fuck--what kind of person I was before you came along?! I only have friends because of you. I only have been trusted by villages because of you. Kagome… God you’re everything for me. You’ve given me so much without even fucking trying.

“I get I am a bastard. I know I’m an asshole through and though but come on--you have to know by now, after everything we’ve fucking been through that I want you by my side. That when you aren’t here--it’s just empty. Don’t even act like you don’t know what I do when you’re gone. I’ve heard the slayer and monk tell you. Even fucking Shippo rats me out for the right price. Kagome--how can you be so fuckin’ blind??”

“Inuyasha--”

“I’m not done talking, wench; so shut the fuck up and listen. Kikyo--Kikyo is dead. I know that. I know there honestly isn’t a way to save her. The feelings I have for her--they revolve around guilt and remorse. But even looking back at what could have been--it never would have worked Kagome. We didn’t trust each other. We were two of loneliest people in the world and drew on each other for comfort.

“What you and I have… Fuck Kagome. Even just as friends, we have such a--shit. Kagome, I’ve never had friends. Even my only family hates my guts. You were my first friend. The first person to trust me with your life. Do you even know what that means to me??”

“Inuyasha…” Luckily she was drawn out of her little spiraling depressive shell she had put around herself. Maybe they should have had this talk years ago…

“Kagome--with Naraku--fuck. He wants to hurt me. He wants me to die mentally; physically he probably couldn’t give a shit. But he wants me to suffer for whatever reason. Do you know how he would succeed in that?”

“I--”

“By taking you away from me. Kagome--don’t you get it?”

“Inuyasha--just--just say it. Please,” she whispered.

“I love you, dumbass,” he finally said. Breathlessly. Because the air from his lungs had whooshed out of his body. Because every fucking promise he made to her, made himself just went out the window. Typical. His mouth always did end up running away from him. But he couldn’t believe she had thought she was so low on the totem pole… how could she honestly believe that he didn’t care about her? That he’d fucking use her body like that?

Mating was a serious thing in inuyoukai culture. Fuck--even in this era women didn’t typically go opening their legs to just anyone. Yea, things were different in her time but goddamn--he was not going to allow her to do that to him. To her even. If she wanted to be with him, it would be a lifetime commitment. Once he had her, he was too selfish to ever let her go.

“Inuyasha--I--”

“I’m not gonna just rut you and leave you. That’s not how this would go, Kagome. That’s not who I am. Don’t you think I have a little more honor than that? Don’t you think even as a friend I care about you more than that??”

“I’m sorry…” she said, her voice disheartened.

“Damn right you should be sorry! If we do this--this is a lifetime commitment. Not your lifetime; mine.”

“What??” She said looking up at him in shock.

“Inuyoukai mate for life--”

“But your dad--”

“My old man rutted Sesshomaru’s mom for a powerful heir. I’m not lookin’ for someone to take over my land. Fuck--I have a fucking forest the villagers named after me in fear that I would one day wake.”

“But--”

“Yea, he mated with my mom and he died. Shit happens. But she had me to love and protect and raise. The mate bond only affects the demon in the relationship as far as if you got hurt and died, then I would. Not the inverse. What would happen for you is that it would wear off and you’d begin to age like normal.”

“Are you… Are you asking me to be your mate?”

“God, you’re slow,” he smirked lightheartedly.

She glared at him, “Inuyasha… This isn’t a joke.”

“I’m aware of that; it also isn’t a tryst.”

“Touche… So… Uhm--where--where would we live? When this was all over?”

“Whatever village would take us. Or a cave. Wilderness. Seems like the more likely option.”

“What about my era?” He gave her a look of ‘Yea--with my ears?’ “Oh, you’re-you’re right. It wouldn’t work…”

“Look, I wasn’t--I wasn’t trying to make you choose. You can take all the time you need. I wasn’t gonna say anything until the jewel was whole and we figured out what to do with it. We can just go slow--I can court you and--”

“Inuyasha; I love you too. I don’t want to ever be without you. If I didn’t want to be here, yes it would eat me up inside because I was the one who broke the jewel but I want to be with you; by your side. Kikyo could have taken my spot… If--If we had to live in a cave, forest, wherever I’d be alright. I’d still be with you.”

“Are you sure about this Kagome? There aren't any take backs on this kind of thing…”

“Now who is doubting whom?” She tilted her head frowning slightly.

“Whatever, wench,” he replied with no bite. “Forever is just a long time to not think about this. I swore I’d protect you; that includes myself. You might not realize what being mated to half-breed means.”

“I don’t understand what you mean; is there… other stuff we’d have to do or--”

“You’ll be called the demon’s bitch. The half-demon’s slut. Anything you’ve ever heard thrown at me, they’ll be hurled at you.”

“I don’t care about what people think about me. I care about what you think… Will you think those things of me?”

“Kagome!! What the fuck--?!”

“See? Of course you won’t. Neither will our friends…” She trailed off and looked slightly uncomfortable and her scent shifted.

“What are you worried about?”

“You--You may not love Kikyo like you used to… but--”

“Sigh… it’s been a long time coming for that conversation. She does know how I feel about you. That’s another reason she doesn’t press to travel with us. The last time we met, she had asked if I had told you yet, that was awkward,” he said blushing, letting his ears fall flat on his head. The embarrassment was worth it when he heard laugh lightly and felt her cold hand on his ear. Fuck. He secretly loved it when she would just brush his ears in passing. But it seemed the secret was out… Because an unbridled rumble erupted from his chest. Damnit.

“Are you purring?” She asked, smiling mischievously.

“NO! I DO NOT PURR!”

“Sure--sure,” she agreed with undeniable amusement laced in her voice as she continued to rub his ears. Feeling the other effects it was having on him, he reached up and paused her ministrations.

“You’re--You’re gonna have to stop.”

“Why?” Oh, poor sweet innocent Kagome… He conveyed a face that hopefully told her what he honestly didn’t want to confess out loud. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure the piece of anatomy that was now poking into her side. It had the inverse effect though; her scent spiked again.

Fuck she was like a drug. He already knew he had no hope in separating from her; but she obviously held no reservations. She wanted what he did. Even more so maybe. She had been willing to just have him for a night. Claiming she was being the selfish one. Bullshit. If anyone was selfish, it was him.

He slowly leaned in again but paused just a breath away to wait for her to close the distance. While he was selfish, he wanted this to ultimately be her choice. He had already made his. It was her. Always her.

Luckily, or thankfully, whichever it was, she closed the gap between them and kissed him. Fuck he was a goner. He loved her. Everything about her. From her eyes, to her voice, to her sweet honey flavored tongue shoved into his mouth brushing against his fangs, her breasts he was squeezing through her sleep shirt, her kind personality, her overflowing love-- he could go on and on.

When she pulled back he was taken by surprise, which wasn’t an easy feat. Especially when her legs were straddling his hips. He opened his eyes which he hadn’t even realized had closed and saw her shred her pink tank top that had already barely contained her large round mounds.

From the time she had first come to his era to now Kagome had grown from a girl to a woman. She was now eighteen and her figure was more apparent, more enticing and womanly. While she was still a head shorter than he was, her bust had grown, her hips had expanded in preparation for bearing children, muscles were developed from years of running, walking, fighting, and fuck best of all, her gorgeous blue eyes just seemed to have gotten darker to match the ocean she loved to visit. That was one of her favorite places to go when they had a moment and while he bitched, he secretly loved taking her there to explore.

Without thinking, because when did he ever, he swallowed her nipple whole and swirled his tongue around it until he felt it point from excitement. Once he thoroughly ravished one side, he moved to the other. He felt her nimble fingers untying the strings to his haori and aided her in her efforts to remove it. Once she started to shove it down his arms, he pulled away and laid down his kosode and robe of the fire rat. He turned back to her and twisted to lay her down upon the makeshift bed he had made.

After she was fully on her back, he started kissing her again, his hands restless as they studied every curve she possessed more thoroughly than he had with his eyes. Even though their mouths were battling for dominance, his ears caught every sigh, moan, and gasp her voice made.

Once his hands hit the waistline of her pants, she stilled him. Shifting beneath him, she encouraged him to remove her pants. Who was he to refuse what she desired?

Once her pants and underwear were pulled down, he acted without thinking and moved his mouth down her body. Without his mouth swallowing her moans he soon realized how loud she was. He smirked at the idea of seeing how far he could push her--to see what would come out of that smart mouth of hers.

He reached her raven curls and nudged her legs apart. She hesitated slightly and he looked up to see nervousness in her eyes. Swiftly he moved back to look directly into her eyes and grasped her face in his hands as he straddled her.

“You’re beautiful, Kagome. You’re mine. We don’t have to continue though--we can stop and go slowly.”

“N-No. Sorry--I just-- I was kind of nervous about how I smell. It’s been a little bit since we’ve hit a hot spring or river to bathe off in,” she said bashfully.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her reasonings, “Oh Kagome. Trust me; you smell like a fucking buffet. I can’t wait to taste you.” He licked his lips teasingly as he watched her flush and swallow. He kissed her again hard to try and coax out the woman who originally pleaded to take her for one night. That confidence was what she needed.

Once she was fervent in her kisses again, he dove back down to what his instincts were calling for; a taste of her nether regions. That time when he reached it she didn’t fight him when he spread her legs and laid between them. He initially shoved his nose between her folds. He was slightly tickled by the black hairs that hid her sex from him but fuck, if it was pleasureable with the scent that was so Kagome surrounding every inch of him. He dipped his tongue into her lips and goddamn--he almost lost consciousness. It was better than he had ever fucking dreamed of.

He may have gone a little mad with arousal when he dove in and began eating her out. Control was something he obviously lacked as he lapped up her juices and explored every inch of her sex with his mouth. Not that she seemed like she was complaining at all. No, if anything the cry of his name, the writhing of her body from the sensations he was giving her, and her grabbing his head (thankfully not his ears) pulling him closer only made him want to dive in more.

She had a nub that seemed to really make her wail out louder when he played with that. He decided to focus on that area, thinking he teased her enough, especially from her begging him brokenly for--well he assumed completion. But she didn’t direct him to verbally do anything, only push his head to the nub. Again, who was he to tell her no?

He carefully took two fingers and placed them slightly at her opening, still not confident enough to insert them without some practice, and teased her. She seemed like she was losing her mind in the throes of passion. To be fair, so was he. He was grinding himself on the fucking grass to eleviate some of the pain of his hardened cock.

He realized she was coming when she yelled out his name and her body released more liquid onto his fingers, which he happily licked up. Once she had stilled from her convulsions, he slunk his way back up her body and laughed deeply at her blissed out expression.

“Inuyasha that was--”

“I got just as much out of it as you did--if not more,” he smirked and leaned down to kiss her. She hungirly accepted and reached for his hakama ties. He didn’t stop her and felt her foot come up and hook around it to help ease it down. Without removing his mouth from hers, he kicked off his pants and then hovered over her briefly to just take in the moment. Her flushed cheeks, the glistening sweat on her forehead, the glazed-over look of lust in her dark blue eyes…

“I love you, Inuyasha,” she told him as he sank himself down over her body and lined himself up to enter her.

He kissed her soundly as he dipped his tip to her entrance and his hair fell around them to envelope them in a silver curtain of privacy. As she wrapped her arms around him and spread her legs wider to open herself more to him, he whimpered. The tight heat that consumed his throbbing hardened cock was literally something he never thought he would feel; even in his dream he had never felt so much desperation. But he refused to move in fear of hurting her further.

"Inuyashaaa,” she moaned once he was fully seated inside of her.

“Are you alright?” He asked through gritted teeth. Fuck, he wasn’t a teenager anymore but at this rate he was gonna--

“Yes; stretched but-- it’s like we belong together. You fit perfectly,” she sighed as she brushed her fingers through his hair out of his face to look into his eyes.

She was right though. They did belong together. Then. There. Forever.

He was tentative when he first started pumping inside her but her cries and panting encouraged him. While she said she loved him for who he was, he was still scared he may hurt her. But her mews, pleas for more, and movements from her hips to return his thrusts, fuck, his bitch was amazing.

“Inu-Ya--” she said brokenly as those beautiful sapphire orbs closed and she whimpered.

He ground his hips in circles and brushed his pelvis against her sensitive clit, earning a high pitched cry, “What do you want Kagome? Do you want to be fucked by a demon?”

“Y-yes,” she pleaded using her hands to pull him by his hips closer if that was even possible. He pulled away and she whined, trying to pull him back, but once she figured out what he was doing she moaned his name in impatience.

He threw her legs upon his shoulders and reentered her hard. His cock was in deeper now, his hand was free from holding her leg close to his waist. He reached around and started pinching her very stimulated nub. She began mewling uncontrolablly and it was fucking glorious. To hear such pleasures he was bringing her only made his cock harder if that was even possible.

“Is that what you want Kagome?? To be with a demon?”

“Ahhhh,” she cried as he felt her walls tighten around him. God. Damn. “Yashhhhh,” she ground out flailing her head back and forth. Her breasts were bouncing with every hard and quick pound he gave her. His dick was just at the tip of her womb and he silently thanked Kami she wasn’t in fucking heat otherwise this night would have ended very differently.

He dipped his head to her ear and exhaled making her writhe further under him, “Are you gonna cum for me, Ka-Go-Me?”

“Gods--” he heard her swear before she wailed out her release into the night. Riding out her orgasm it took everything not to explode right then. He slowly eased himself back between her spread legs and sat her up. She was fucking gorgeous; her face was still glistening in sweat, her breathing was starting to calm from her orgasm but still audible to his demonic hearing--scratch that, even a mortal would be able to her her subtle groan and sigh, and her hair was wilder than normal.

He cradled the back of her head to bring her into a kiss as he pumped into her before he couldn’t stave off his own release any longer. He broke the kiss when he felt his youki rising, his fangs growing--

Her hands brushing his cheeks and her accepting eyes calmed his initial panic. She pulled his face to be at her shoulder; she was silently asking him to mark her. He didn’t even mention that to her; he needed to make a note to thank Sango for likely educating her about mating behind his back.

His fangs bit down into her shoulder and she winced at the initial pain but relaxed into it as he spilled his seed inside her. Once he was completely drained, he unclamped his jaw and laved the spot on her neck he had marked then gave it a kiss. She was his. Forever.

“Kagome?”

“Mmmmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve never been better,” she said, taking his face into her hands again as she leaned in to kiss him.

“I meant--about you coming out here--”

“Oh… Yes and no. I think there’ll always be rougher days; but I have you to lean on. We’ll make it through together.”

He smiled and nuzzled her cheek as he wrapped her up in his haori. He threw his hakama back on along with his kosode and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Keeping her close, he just allowed her to snuggle into his chest for comfort over the long and tiring day. Her breathing evened out but he didn’t dare move. He wanted this moment to last forever.

#inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha x kagome #inukag #inu x kag #hurt comfort #smut

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years

Note

Hello! Can you do something with a very (VERY) clingy Arthur and a female reader. Modern times. Like she could be doing things and he calls a lot or texts a lot. But he does it outta love and cuz he’s scared of losing her

You’ve been in a relationship with Arthur for nearly a year. He works on a ranch only about thirty minutes out of the city you live in. There’s something incredibly refreshing about dating a rancher. Perhaps it’s the fact that he doesn’t live in the city, or that he retains a certain sense of masculinity that you find attractive. It’s not toxic luckily and Arthur’s always held a respect for you and other women, but he still holds himself to a certain standard. Plus he looks super good in his rugged clothes, worn out by years of use and faded by long hours in the sun.

Every weekend, you’ll go and stay at his place. He offered to switch with you every other weekend to stay in your apartment, but you need the break from the crowded city and the rude people who live there. His ranch, nestled in a bowl made by mountains and cradled in a forest, is exactly the kind of release you need every week, even in the bitter cold winters. He doesn’t mind of course, and you know it saves him some money so he won’t have to hire someone to tend his livestock for two days.

When you first started dating Arthur, he was incredibly respectful of your space and time, but after you were together for six months and finally slept together, something in him changed. Something better. He became more open with you and more touchy. You’d always been a bit touch-averted, a product of your childhood and a general distrust of people. There was something about him that made you able to warm up to him. You even found yourself longing for his touch and it didn’t help that when he held you against him, you fit like a puzzle piece.

Over the last three months you’ve been with him, he’s gotten a little more clingy. He texts you every day, usually just asking how you are and what you’re up to. He also likes to video call you just about every night. When he first started doing it, you were kind of skeeved out about it, worried he’d be getting possessive, jealous, or suspicious. Your previous boyfriend was like that. He demanded you show him all the texts you’d sent over a period of the last few days, constantly accusing you of cheating without any proof. You weren’t, of course and then you found out after a couple of months that he was. You were worried when Arthur would ask where you were, suspicious he’d accuse you of cheating. He never did though, he just said he wanted to make sure you were safe.

Arthur doesn’t like the city, he never has. It’s too crowded for his taste, the people too selfish. Sure, his small town has its problems, of course. The youth in it are particularly involved in drugs and underaged drinking, but there’s a strong sense of community and friendliness to it. Everyone looks out for each other and helps one another. Something you’ve never seen in the city. But Arthur’s dislike of the city leads him to constantly worry about you. He fears you getting attacked, robbed or even in a car accident. That’s why he likes to check in on you once a day, just to be sure you’re safe.

When Arthur first started doing this, you were worried he’d demand to go through your phone like your last boyfriend did. However, never once did he ask you to unlock your phone so he could go snooping through it. He never even asked for the code to unlock it. Once, you asked him why, incredibly suspicious. He looked shocked that you thought he’d want to do something like that. “Your privacy is somethin’ ain’t no one got a right to, darlin’,” he said. “I ain’t ever gonna try and invade that.”

After that, your trust of him grew even more and so did your relationship. It’s been nearly a year now and you’re absolutely crazy about him. You also long for his lifestyle. Sure, your job pays a little more, but you’ve helped him on the weekends at his ranches and there’s something satisfying about the work. The constant movement, being outdoors, interacting with the animals. You’ve grown particularly fond of one of his mares he named Boadicea. You’ve found yourself fantasizing more and more about doing that full time, quitting your job in the city and just living with Arthur. You doubt it could happen though. There simply isn’t enough money in it, which you hate thinking that way, but in this world, you simply can’t get by without some means of decent money.

The physical distance hasn’t put a damper in your relationship, though. You were afraid for the first few months that it would be the thing to break you apart. Part of you still fears that, but you recall a night from two months back. One of his fears came true when you were in a car accident. It wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t bad, though it totaled your car. You’d been sitting at a light when someone, who was suspected to be on their phone, slammed into the rear of your car. Luckily no one was hurt, but it shook you up quite a bit. As you sat on the side of the road while the police worked on cleaning things up, you called Arthur and told him what happened. He lived over thirty minutes away from where you were, but he got there in twenty. When he got there, he almost looked like he wanted to deck the person who hit you in the face, but he didn’t. He stayed close to you the entire time and when the police had your car towed and said you could leave, he helped you into his truck and drove you immediately to an instacare room. You said you felt fine, but he wanted to be absolutely sure you were okay. After a checkup, the doctor deemed you’d be fine, just sore for a few days.

Arthur drove you home that night and as soon as you’d changed into some comfy pajamas, he threw a blanket around you and held you close. It was a good thing too, because the shock set in then and you began to shake and cry. He held you the entire night. He stayed with you for a week as well, only going back to his ranch when you were at work. He drove you there and picked you up everyday until you got your insurance money and were able to buy a new car. Arthur helped you pick it and you loved it. It got better mileage than your last did, which meant you didn’t have to waste so much gas on the weekends when you went to see him.

You’re headed home now and your phone dings. It’s probably Arthur, texting you to make sure you’re okay. When you reach a light you know won’t change for a few moments, you pick up the phone. Instead of the usual, it says: “face time tonight?” You reply, “Yes”.

As soon as you’re home and settled to be in your house the rest of the night, you open your laptop and call him up. He responds immediately with a big grin.

“Hey, sweetheart. I, uh, I wanted to talk to ya about something,” he says.

“I do too, honey.”

He invited you to go first and you rush into the news quickly. “I talked with the higher ups at my work. They said they could get me set up to work remotely from my laptop, but that I’d still have to come in on Tuesdays for the weekly meetings.”

His face splits into a grin. “That’s funny, because what I wanted to ask ya goes along with that. Darlin’, I was thinkin’ we could move in together. You could live here, I know ya hate that apartment of yours.”

You look around at said apartment. You have hated it here. Three long years of paying for three overpriced rooms with a landlord who hardly gives two shits about anything that goes wrong with it. And a lot goes wrong since it’s an older building.

“You’d be okay with that?” you ask. “I know you’ve lived alone for the past few years.”

He told you about how he grew up with his uncles Dutch and Hosea, who owned the ranch and took him in as a young boy. They passed away a few years back, leaving Arthur alone.

“Darlin’, if I wasn’t okay, I wouldn’t be asking you. Besides, like you said, I been alone these past few years. I’m ready for somethin’ different. What do you think?”

Your face splits into a huge grin and you tell him how excited you are. He chuckles and then says he has a surprise for you. Before you can ask him what it is, he disconnects. You try texting him and even calling him, wondering if your service is having problems again. Another problem with this damn apartment.

Thirty minutes later, a knock comes on your door and Arthur walks in, holding a bundle of beautiful flowers. As soon as he walks in, he pulls you into his arm and kisses you. “You’ve made me a very happy man, Y/N. I just hope…”

“You have made me happy,” you say, cupping his cheek. “I am so excited to live with you! Your ranch is gorgeous.”

“I was just thinking maybe living out there could do you some good, darlin’. Help you heal.”

You kiss him softly. “I’ve no doubt about that. But why’d you get me flowers, Arthur? Did…. did you take them out of your garden? You shouldn’t have! It’s not even Valentine’s Day.”

He chuckles, letting you talk. “I’d rather get you flowers I grew myself on a random Thursday rather than some overpriced, half dead common roses on the day everyone else gets them for their significant other. I just want ya to know how much I love you.”

He kisses you again and you respond by taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom. You’re suddenly excited for everything the future has in store.

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #awkward asks #I'm awkward

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floosies · 5 years

Text

Trouble Chpt. 8

paring: mob!bucky/mob!frank x reader

summary: Elizabeth’s brother Frank, was man who looked for trouble and Bucky was just that. As much as he tried to make sure she didn’t get involved trouble, he knew it wouldn’t stop her from getting involved with it.

warnings: smut, violence, and blood (actual smut in this chapter)

Series Masterlist

After the odd interaction, James suggested that Elizabeth head to his suite and wait there. The look on his face was serious enough that she didn’t question or argue. Why would she? He knew something that she didn’t and it was most likely to keep her alive. Taking no chances, he walked her to his room. The space he resigned in was warm looking with an vintage big leather arm chair placed pressingly close to one of the walls, his suitcase placed on top of some coffee table, and the shoes he’d wear for more festive occasions discarded to a corner by the bed.

Curiosity caused her to ask a question she didn’t think she’d be asking for a long time, “am I spending the night here...With you?” A silence lingered, in all honesty it was most likely the case that she would be. There was this gleam in her eyes, he couldn’t tell what it was but it was there, “I think so doll. I’ll let you know though. Don’t open the door for anyone okay. There’s a mini fridge, get what ya want from there. I’ll be back soon,” she nodded and promised to not open the door for anyone but him.

Closing the door, he sighed. Thankful that she was safe in his room, and then headed to Frank’s shared suite. He was expecting at most to see Karen possibly cuddling up to the man. He didn’t expect to see them having full on sex on couch. His disgusted scream stopped them, “don’t you know to knock first!” Karen screamed horrified and angered. Guarding his view with his hand to his eyes, he answered her, “well I wouldn’t have to if you two kept this to your room. Also the door was unlocked, so it’s more partially your fault.”

They finished putting their clothes back on, “where’s my sister Barnes?” Frank spoke gruffly as he buckled his belt. He looked at Karen for a moment of privacy, “fine i’ll leave. Next time knock first. Frank i’m going to shower.” She left to the bathroom while glaring Barnes. With a sigh and a head shake Bucky continued, “I actually came to talk to you about that. Teller, he knows who she is...sorta.” Then he explained the whole scenario that happened only an hour ago. The look of fear and anger that filled Bucky earlier was now on Frank. Without thinking twice Frank had an idea, “lemme blow the bastards brains out, we’ll hide the body somewhere on here.”

Fucking Frank, always so violent. It did make James smile though, the idea of watching Teller bleed out and become a corpse, “as much as that would be a great plan. We can’t make that kind of commotion here Castle. There’s too much liability.” The two set up a meeting with the other four. It came about quickly, Karen went to sleep after shower, which was a godsend to Frank.

Parker suggested a less evasive way to get Teller, “boss what if we invite him to a dinner, offer him a special glass of wine and get him then. If Ms.Castle will be there he won’t be suspicious.” The kid was reckless most of the time but this was a bright idea, “what do you guys think? I personally like the idea but does anyone else disagree.” Peggy spoke first, “who would be attending the dinner? Let’s not give the impression that it isn’t more than just you and Elizabeth that are here. He’ll suspect an ambush.” The rest nodded know that was true. Frank then added, “my sister doesn’t know who he is. I’d like to keep it that way. Perhaps I should be waiting in the hall after the drug kicks in. Take him out back, and you walk her to the room.”

So it was agreed, after the drugged Teller was taken out he’d be on a boat to Brooklyn with everyone but Frank, Karen, Betty, and Bucky. They’d take the boat out the next morning. They’d be back in New York, in Brooklyn by two days tops. May be less, but hopefully soon. The meeting ended soon after. James promised Frank that Betty was safe and would be safe regardless of the plan.

While all this was going on, Elizabeth found herself getting bored. She’d found some books on a shelf where the television of the room was placed. An hour or so passed and she figured she would be staying the night after all. Looking around, she saw a burgundy t-shirt that Bucky probably had worn to bed and just left it lying around. It was soft and long enough to be a dress on her. It was a no-brainer for her to get comfortable.

It was frustrating that somehow that hick got to Betty. There was so much on Bucky’s mind right now. He was thinking what he would say to her, how he would get her to stay the night. Instead he walked into a sight, her hair was down and the only light was coming from a lamp. She was on that old chair reading some book, wearing his shirt. She wore it so much better than he ever could. He was going to disrupt this beautiful scene, how selfish of him, “did ya miss me doll?” Her eyes fell onto his gaze. Standing up, she walked to him. Taking in the scent of his cologne, she held him. He felt warm and gentle, the same way his lips did moments after.

There’s no recollection of how they ended on the bed but he wasted no time making the most of it. The shirt she’d worn so beautifully was on the floor. Her body on full display for him. Her smaller hands on his chest trying to get his clothes off. His swollen mouth was every where, indulging on the noises she was making. Somehow she’d gotten his shirt off, her nails scraping his back.

His hands wandered to her most sensitive spots. Slipping gentle caresses to her core, feeling the slick cover his middle and ring finger as he thrusted them languidly. The pleasure was too great, she hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was almost foreign, deep sighs of content came from her parted lips, “doll, the things you do to me.” He whispered, his voice jagged from the way in which her hands were fondling him.

Nearing the edge of her climax, she held onto him by his shoulder. Shallow breathes and her voice soft yet weary, “please, please fuck me. C’mon bucky...fuck...me..” she pleaded as she came for the first time. His lips catching her moans. His girl, she wanted him. Hastily he went from the condom in his jeans, the light from the lamp shone on his glistening skin. She waited for him in the same position he’d left her. From where he stood, he could see purple spots forming, a reminder of what had just happened.

Carefully again he placed himself on top of her small frame, her breath fanning his chest, his right hand toying her bundle of nerves. Making whimpers leave her needing body, she began to grind against the palm of his hand looking for more friction. He took at his signal, slowly he began to enter her. She had only once done this, there was pain, he could tell, “I promise doll, you’re gonna feel so good right now. I’m gonna be so gentle right now.” His words were soothing enough for the moment. The burn that was there when they started was now beginning to blend with the sensation of pleasure.

Whimpers and slight grunts filled the room, as her legs wrapped around his waist, her voice was ragged, “so fuckin good.” He rolled them over so that she was on top now, her body practically covered in sweat, lips pouting as she rode him. He was in a trance, she felt so impossibly good. Her legs were giving out, she laid her head on his chest as he began to thrust into her. She could feel how deep he was in her, it only heightened the sensation. He could feel her squeezing him, it was euphoric, this was something they’d both been deprived of for so long.

Who said it first, it was probably Betty. He couldn’t stop moaning her name out, she was a whimpering mess and then suddenly as her climax came she said, chanting it like a mantra, “fuck i love you, i love you so much.” In turn this made him go into a feral mode, not giving her time to ride out from her high. His lips again were everywhere on her. He was trying to prove something, “love you so fuckin much Betty, always gonna take care of my doll. Mine.” He kept raggedly saying the word. She was his, who else would she want? No one but him.

There were a couple more times that night. By the morning, the room smelled of sex. Neither was complaining though. Barnes thought he woke up first. The sunshine was coming in from the small window in the room. Her body was bare and displaying last nights endeavors well. She however had been awake, but afraid that maybe she’d said the wrong thing at the wrong time. That was proven wrong when his arms engulfed her. She was met to the loving gaze of his sleepy blue eyes looking at her like some sort miracle, “morning doll, I love you.” His voice was so raspy and low. She smiled though, “I love you too Buck,” He smiled at her whispered words. They were only meant for his ears to hear. They stayed laid out for a few more minutes.

#mob!au #mob!bucky #mob!steve #frank castle #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #mcuedit #mcu #chris evans #sebastian stan #jon bernthal

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outlaws-of-anarchy · 4 years

Text

Tainted Love (Chapter 3)

Pairings:  Tig Trager x Reader, Herman Kozik x Reader

Warnings:  Love triangle, swearing

Words: 2100

“You’re a doll, always bailin’ me out.” Tig said softly, brushing his lips across Y/N’s cheek.

She could only lean into his familiar touch, before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, I know. But you’re my favorite guy, so it’s only natural that I do.”

“Come back to the clubhouse with me, I wanna make it up to you.” He said with a seductive growl.

Her lips slowly peeled back in a grin, knowing he always made good on his word. “I’ll meet you back there a little bit later, I got a few errands to run.”

He hesitated briefly, a flash of concern lighting up in his eyes, but was soon brushed away. He straddled his chopper before landing a playful swat to Y/N’s ass. “Be safe babe, see ya later.” Tig revved his engine before taking off down the road.

It was one thing to “bail” Tig out of jail, but it was something else entirely to bail Kozik out. There was still so many things left unsaid to him, and in a sick way, she felt bad that he was locked up. Knowing, it was a majority of her fault. If he didn’t know her and Tig were a ‘thing’ than they would have never gotten into a fight.

Unser had been on SAMCRO’s payroll for many years, so it was easy to slip members in and out of their cells without too much speculation. However, Kozik wasn’t from Charming, and although he was a man of mayhem, he couldn’t be freed from jail without a hefty sum of bail money.

If she would have asked Jax for the money to do it, he would have without hesitation. They all saw one another as brothers, but she didn’t feel right going to the President of SAMCRO, asking for bail money to save her ex-boyfriend. Especially, if that meant Tig would find out.

“It’s his first offense in this town, therefor the cost won’t be as much. However, if there is a repeat, he could face jail time or a larger fine.” Said one of the Deputy’s.

Y/N merely nodded her head before handing her 800$ in cash, impatiently waiting for her to fetch Kozik.

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

His anger had quickly faded the moment he was put in the back of a cruiser. However, the frustration, the betrayal still latched onto him like a leech. He never expected Y/N to wait around for him, but he also never thought she would move onto one of his own brothers. He especially never thought that Tig would submerge into a relationship with his ex, the woman who had been ole lady worthy.

“Kozik, your bail has been posted.” Said a guard.

“By who?” He replied curiously, but there was no response. Instead, the Deputy had unlocked the holding cell and allowed the outlaw to step out.

The time he had reached the lobby, he found Y/N sitting there, gaze directed to the window beside her. Rays of sunlight captured her in a golden halo, only enouncing her flawlessness. Did she bail him out? Why would she? Didn’t she hate him?

His strides were slow, overly cautious as he approached her. The rattling of the chain that dangled from his jeans had caught her attention, eyes shooting to him almost immediately. In that moment, he froze, completely blown away by the woman he had left months ago. The woman he had tried desperately to forget but couldn’t. Who could ever forget a woman like her? No one, not even god himself.

“Hey.” She greeted, eventually rising to her feet.

“Hey.” He repeated, carefully eying her with a questionable expression.

“Did you bail me out?” Kozik asked, hands shifting into the front pockets of his jeans.

He watched her run a hand through her hair tersely, it being one of her nervous ticks. He could spot it anywhere, but he also knew her better than anyone else. He knew she was unsure, and nervous about being around him. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to talk to you, we didn’t get to finish our conversation last night.” She said.

To say he was shocked, would be an understatement. He for sure thought she would just bail Tig out and continue on with life. So, to hear her say that she wanted to talk to him, made his hopes rise up. Hopes that she would take him back, hopes that they could start fresh.

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

They stood feet apart, aimlessly walking down the main street of Charming’s quaint little center stone. It was a sunny morning, the heat of it pouring down on the back of their heads. She had said she wanted to talk, but for the last ten minutes all they had done was walk in silence. She couldn’t find the words she wanted to say to him, because his sudden reappearance had brought up old feelings, old love.

So, she started from the beginning. “When you left, you took a piece of my heart. A piece that you will forever own, and I hate to say that, to admit such weakness, but it’s true. I loved you in a way that terrified me, because I had never been so codependent on someone else before. I never needed or wanted someone so damn much, not like I did with you.”

His blue eyes darted to her, comprehending everything she had to say.

“But you were selfish, you only cared about yourself. You couldn’t handle a relationship, and while you lived in Tacoma, I had to patch myself up. I had to find a way to heal, and I did. I found Tig, and it wasn’t supposed to last as long as it did, but it has. While you own one half of my heart, he owns the other. You are my kryptonite and he’s my saving grace. And I feel so confused, so hurt, because I love you both so much.” There was a wavering to her voice, which made him tense and her gaze to focus ahead. Not wanting to expose anymore vulnerability than she had already.

“You weren’t my first, but you were my first love. My first, true love. And Tig, he’s the second love of my life. You both live inside my chest, taking up space there and now that you’ve come back. I can’t think straight, I can’t. Because you’ve now taken space up in my head. You come back professing your love and the mistake you made in leaving me, expecting me to take you back.”

His head hung low in regret, and she could only continue to keep that distance between them.

“Everything you said, I waited for a year, I waited everyday for you to come back and tell me how sorry you were, how much you loved me. But I’m not sure if I continue to love you cause’ you hurt me, or because I want something more from you. I don’t know, the pain you inflicted on me has become my drug. I’m addicted to it, but it’s not good for me.” She sighed softly, tears falling quietly down her cheeks.

Kozik stopped walking and immediately gripped her bicep, causing her to stop as well. He forced her to look at him and when she did, they both felt that intoxicated love coming rip-roaring back to life.

“I don’t know what it was about you that caught my eye. Maybe it was your wild hair, or your daring eyes, or the fact that you weren’t afraid to put anyone in their place, but something in you, made me gravitate towards you. From the moment I saw you walk into that bar, I’ve loved you and every day after. I made a mistake in leaving, and it’s one I’ll always regret. Because you are the only woman for me, I don’t want to be your kryptonite babe, I want to be your superman.” He said, his thumb stroking circles over her damp cheek.

She couldn’t help the free-roaming tears, or the utter adoration she had for Kozik. And all she could think about while looking at him is how much she wanted to kiss him. However, he seemed to have had read her mind because he was soon leaning down and placing a searing kiss across her plump lips. His hands roaming down the length of her body before encircling her waist.

And while two old lovers reunited, there was a man scorned across the street, staring idly from an ice cream parlor. Tig would never admit it, but he swore that day he could feel a bit of him die off.

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

It had been two hours later when Y/N had returned to the club house. Kozik had taken a ride with Happy to Stockton State Prison to visit a member who had been locked up for years. There was an underlying guilt nestled in the pit of her stomach as she stepped through the club house doors. Mainly because she hadn’t only kissed Kozik but also had sex with him.

Shoes pattered against the floor as she made her back to Tig’s dorm, only wanting to hide beneath the sheets. However, when she entered the room, she was stunned to find him sitting on the edge of the bed. He lacked any visible facial expression, in fact he was so still and quiet that it unnerved her. Setting her bag down on the small table near the door, she’d frown. “Tig, what’s wrong?”

He remained silent, until he barked out a question that made her sick. “Did you fuck him?”

And all she could do was play stupid, pretend that she hadn’t just been devoured by Kozik. “Who?”

In a flurry of rage, Tig was at his feet, tossing aside the wooden chair that was a few feet away from him. “Don’t play fucking stupid Y/N, you know god damn well who I’m talkin’ about.”

She bit into her bottom lip to keep back a yelp, before taking a cowardice step back.

Icy blue eyes darted to her, legs drawing him closer to her. “Answer me!” he growled.

“Yes! Okay! Yes! I did, I slept with him.” She cried, guilty and frustrated tears forming.

His face was only a few inches from hers, his gaze narrowed down at her while his upper lip quirked into a scowl. “You’re a dirty fuckin’ bitch.”

His words were like a slap to the face, and in a sense, she couldn’t blame him for what he said, for what he thought. She had slept with her ex-boyfriend, while simultaneously screwing Tig on the side. Yet, she couldn’t deny how much his words broke her.

“Don’t call me that.” She mewled.

Tig was soon cornering her against the wall, trapping her between his arms as his hands dug into the wallpaper. “That’s what you are.”

Hands formed into fists at her side, trying her hardest not to unleash on him. But it couldn’t be helped, because the way he was staring at her, made her realize that she was never priority in his life either. He was always fucking her, and other women as well, it was never her, it would never be just her.

“Says the man who fucks me, then an hour later goes and fucks someone else. Don’t you ever try to shame me for what I did, when you go out and do the same thing every day. You’re not better than me, and you’re not in my shoes, you don’t understand what I’m going through.” She snapped.

He scoffed before pulling away from her. “There differences between me and you doll, is that I only love one woman that I fuck, and I come home to her every night.”

Tig was soon grabbing his kutte and stalking out of the dorm, slamming the door behind him.

While she had waited for Kozik to admit his wrongs and come back, she had also been waiting for Tig’s confession of love.

And when he had finally said it in the midst of the jumble, she could only feel the piece of her heart that belonged to him, cry out for its owner. Y/N slowly slid over to the bed where she sat on the edge, looking blankly at the floor as incoherent sobs shook her body.

The one person who had been there for her, she had hurt. She had betrayed him so effortlessly, and now he was gone. All for the sake of a man who had left her broken and torn in the dust.

Chapter 4

#samcro #soa #sons of anarchy #tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #herman kozik #juice ortiz #happy lowman #jax teller #opie winston #chibs telford #fanfic

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