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nostallicca · 1 year

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The Memory Remains

~ Heavy rings hold cigarettes, up to lips that time forgets, while the Hollywood sun sets behind your back. And can't the band play on? ~

Episode 4: Like twisted vines that grow

Episode 3

Warnings: Smut, mental health

7:31AM. That's what your phone told you that the time was. That means that you got about 3-4 hours of sleep. The man beside you, James. He was still dead asleep. Your memory from last night is a little foggy but the last moments of the night are still clear as day and they kept coming back to you in flashes making your pussy absolutely throb. The hangover only adding to the sensitivity. You twist and turn for a while in the bed trying to get some more rest before you hear a groan leave James lips. You feel him put his big arms around you. You back is pressed against his chest and you can feel his bulge on your lower back. You instinctively start moving your body upwards so his bulge can touch your butt. ''You're awake already?'' he says in a sleep, slightly raspy voice. So this is his morning voice? ''Mhm'' you answer back, letting out a sigh. His hands starts roaming your body, eventually leaving one of his hands to land on your clothed pussy and the other one on the inside of your thigh. You let out a small moan before you automatically start grinding your ass on his bulge. He takes this as an invitation to start caressing your pussy with his big hand. He drags his fingers up and down and every time he touches your clit he rubs it a little bit with his middle finger. James starts breathing heavy in the crook of your neck as he starts slowly dry humping your ass. Eventually two of his fingers slip into your pussy, drenching him in your wetness. ''God, you're so wet'' he groans out. He starts fucking you with his fingers leaving you to become a moaning mess. His fingers angles until he hits that spot that makes your thighs press together. He uses his other hand to push open one of your thighs again as he keeps finger fucking you vigorously.

The moaning gets louder, feeling your orgasm coming until he suddenly pulls out his fingers. He pulls down his boxers and uses the wetness on his fingers from your pussy as lube for his cock, jerking it off a few times before he pushes into you. His cock stretches you out so perfectly. Both of you let out loud moans simultaneously. He grabs one of your boobs with one hand and the other hand he puts around your throat, giving it a light squeeze. The sound of his heavy breathing and low grunts in your ear makes your orgasm come closer once again. ''Aah...please..harder'' a loud moan escapes his mouth before he removes his hand around your throat and instead grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your head forward. Both of your wrists gets pulled behind your back and you feel him grip them tightly to keep them there. This way he can pound into you obscenely hard, and he definetely does. ''You like that? you like it hard?'' he groans. ''Ahh yes...I love it'' He lets out almost scary low grunts and you feel your orgasm wash all over you and not long after he comes inside of you. His cock stays inside of you for a little while before pulling out. He moves over and lays on his back, stroking his face with his hands and sighing heavily.

You sit up on the bed before you get up and start making your way towards the bathroom. The cum has already started spilling out of you. You wipe it off and clean yourself up with some paper and hot water. When you return back in to the room James is already getting dressed. ''You want me to drive you home?'' he asks coldly while buckling his belt. ''Uh...sure, thanks'' you answer in a hesitant tone. You didn't really want to but he seemed to want you gone for some reason. ''Aight, i'll start up the car and you can come out when you're ready''. He leaves the room and leaves you standing there. Alone and bare. Stripped of all your confidence. The pit growing in your stomach is impossible to ignore. Didn't he want you here? was his entire goal to just fuck you and throw you away like trash? like he probably did with so many other girls. You got dressed in the same clothes as the night before. You put on last nights panties hesitantly. All you wanted was to just take a long, steamy shower.

You walked out of the room and downstairs. You could hear some voices in the distance and when you walked over to the front door you could see in your peripheral vision, a small group of people looking over at you. Whispering and giggling leaving their side of the house. You felt embarrassed. Clueless.

Walking down the rocky trail to the car felt a lot longer than usual. The wind was lukewarm and soft. Well suited for your sensitive skin and body. You could see James sitting in the driver seat playing with the radio in the car. The vulnerability you felt with the toxins from the alcohol leaving your body, the lack of sleep and the intense post orgasm sensitivity was out of this world.

The drive home was quiet yet so loud. The conversations were barely there. Motörhead was playing in the background which seemed like a way to drown out the silence that would nevertheless overbear the two of you. You could almost feel tears forming in your eyes from the uncomfortable intensity of the whole situation. You once again felt misplaced. A feeling you constantly had to fight off and you were sick of it.

When you arrived at the destination of your apartment you kind of just sat the for a little while. Waiting. Waiting for what you didn't even know yourself. All you knew was that what you were waiting for, never came. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel before gritting his teeth. This was your cue to leave. ''So...thank you for the ride'' you said while looking down at your bare legs being barely covered by your now slightly stained white mini dress. ''No worries''. You can feel him look over at you but facing him right now would be too much for you.

You open the car door before getting out of the car and using the door as a support for your body. ''See you around then...'' you say, trying to get the answer from him that you want. That you need. ''Yeah, see ya'' he says, once again in that cold tone. You slam the car door shut softly before turning around and making your way towards the front door. You hear the car drive off and once again you're left alone. As soon as you've entered your house you drop your bag, remove your jacket along with your panties before making your way towards the bathroom. Turning the shower on you leave it on for a little while before even entering in order to steam up the room.

Standing in the shower, letting the hot water pour all over you just like the silence now clouding your entire existence. Everything is suddenly catching up to you. You’ve always been good at shutting things out, disassociating. But standing alone, naked and bare, stripped off of everything, you can’t avoid it coming back to you. Why is it that we always seem to fall apart when we’re alone and the most vulnerable?

The tears running down your face mixing with the scorching hot water leaves you a wet, dripping mess. A mess you’ve been trying to avoid at all costs. You do your usual shower routine which consists of washing your hair, your body and your face. Shaving every part of you until your already sensitive body is stripped of everything that could make it less so.

The sound of your phone ringing all of a sudden pulls you back to reality. You quickly get out of the shower and pick up your phone desperately fast. “Olivia? Hello this is your mothers nurse from the psych ward. Are you free and available for a little talk?” Your heart sinks. The only reason you answered this quickly is because you thought it was James. Yes, that’s how selfish you are. A call about your mother and her declining health and sanity was not what you needed right now. You needed validation from one person and one person only. “Yes I’m available”. You weren’t. “We have decided to keep your mother here for further care in consideration of the situation. We don’t think she’s ready to go home yet. We have put you on the list of visitors. Is there anyone else you know that should be on the list?” Somehow this information gave you some relief. As long as she was there you didn’t have to worry about what she was doing. She had people keeping an eye on her at all times here. “No, it’s…it’s just me”. You swallow hard. She had no one but you. You had everyone but her. “Okay. Her condition is stable and her mind is clearer. You are welcome to visit anytime.” “Thank you.” You answer, desperately trying to get off the phone and leave this conversation. “Have a good day and take care of yourself”. The call ends. Finally.

You check your phone if you have received any text messages or voicemails from a particular person but no. Nothing. It echoes with emptiness. Maybe it’s for the better? A man like that couldn’t possibly be loyal to just one girl anyway. And could you blame him? I mean, having tons of girls just kneeling down to you everywhere you go.

8:22PM

The day went on slowly and quietly. Basically just roaming around and trying to make time pass. Celeste had been blowing up your phone but you had no energy whatsoever to explain to her everything that had been going on with your mother and James. So instead you just ignored her. Shut her out. That’s what you did best. Shutting people out. Leaving them in the darkness, out in the cold.

You still had not received any texts or calls from James. And the thoughts of why and what you maybe had done wrong kept coming up. It was enough to make you go crazy. You were not going to contact him first. The ball was in his hands. You had nothing to lose but he did. You were 18, he was 36. He obviously had the upper hand here.

You twisted and turned the entire night, barely getting any sleep for the second night in a row. When the clock said 5:32AM you heard a knock on the door. You froze, deciding what to do for a few seconds. You put a blanket around your naked body and made your way towards the front door. The cold floor sending a shiver through your bare feet and through your entire body. You looked out of the peephole and saw Celeste. You stood there for a a minute or so trying to figure out wether you should ignore her or face her and explain why you had ignored her calls for the past 2 days. ''Olivia, I can literally hear you. Open the door!'' you shut your eyes in embarrasment but eventually you manage to open the door.

''What's going on? why haven't you answered my calls?'' she asks with a worried look on her face. God, you hated when people worried about you. ''I've...I've just been busy'' you answer, unable to keep eyecontact with her. ''Busy? busy doing what?'' she asks. ''NOTHING, I just...I've not been feeling well'' you answer passively aggressively. ''Jesus, I'm just worried about you! why do you have to get all defensive on me?'' she scoffs. ''I'm tired of everyone being worried about me! just...leave me alone, please.'' You didn't mean for it to come out that way but it did. And you couldn't take it back. You saw how dissapointed you made her. And it did hurt you, it did. ''I see...fine, i'll just leave you alone then'' before you even had time to explain or save the situation she had already turned her heel and she was walking away. Great, you've now ruined another one of your relationships because of your inability to let people in and actually know you.

Later that day you hade managed to put on some clean clothes, fixed your hair and put on some light makeup and you decided to actually leave the house for once. You went to a gas station in order to buy some cigarettes and a few beers. You went through the aisles before you found a six pack case of Carlsberg beers. You grabbed it before making your way towards the cashier. But before you made it there you heard a familiar voice. ''Thirsty?'' Oh god...not right now. You turn around and there he is. James. ''Oh...hi, i didn't see you there'' you say, looking down. ''You want something else with that?'' you look at him with a confused look on your face. ''I...what? I was just getting some cigarettes to be honest'' you can almost feel your face burning from the embarrasment. He grabs the case of beer from you before walking up to the cashier. ''What brand do you smoke?'' he asks while putting the case of beer on the counter along with a bottle of lighter fluid. ''Um...prince red please'' He gives you a look and a small grin. Sending butterflies straight to your stomach. ''Is that all?'' the cashier asks him in an exaggerated sweet tone with big doe eyes that seem to glisten while looking at him. ''And a pack of red prince there darlin'' he gives her a wink. You watch her shamelessly pulling her v neck shirt down a little bit while grabbing the pack of cigarettes behind her. You can see him giving her now visable cleavage a quick glance before scratching his face and grabbing his things. ''Have a nice day sir'' she says, still with that annoyingly sweet tone that she obviously put on just for him. ''You too sweetheart'' he says before giving you a look, telling you to come with him.

''Wow, do you usually get that kind of service when you're buying lighter fluid?'' you say coyly. He lets out a small laugh that sounds like music to your ears. ''Uh, you noticed that huh?'' ''I think everyone in there did'' ''Well...too bad I don't get any benefits from it''

He opens your pack of cigarettes before pulling one of them out and putting it in your mouth. He pulls out a lighter and lights it for you. ''Thanks'' you say, feeling your entire body flutter. ''So, how come you haven't called me?'' he asks while smirking. Clearly enjoying how nervous this made you. ''I don't know, why don't I ask you the same thing?'' you try to keep eye contact with him to kind of give the illusion that he does not make you as nervous as he does. It only works for a few seconds before you have to look away. ''I'm busy you know, but fair enough.'' You take a long inhale of the cigarette smoke before letting it out towards his face, blurring it for a second, making it a lot easier to look at his face without your knees almost buckling.

''We have a show tomorrow at the chase center. You should come ya'know'' ''Oh...yeah i'm- i'm available'' ''It starts at 9pm but we'll be there around 8 or so. Just come to the backstage area and talk to one of the security guys and they'll let you in.''

How is it that a little bit of validation from this man could make you feel like you were up in the clouds? you hated the fact that you needed validation in order to even feel worthy as a human being. He gave you motivation, confidence and a sense of worth. You were actually excited to see him perform. To see him in his prime. To see what made him him. You could only hope and wish to one day have a purpose in life as strong as his. To have something to live and work for. To have an escape. A safe place. A home.

END OF EPISODE 4 - Sorry it took time but i've been busy as hell and i'm not very happy with this one so i'm sorry if it sucks :///

#james hetfield #james hetfield smut #jason newsted #kirk hammett #metallica #metallica smut #lars ulrich #rob trujillo #papa het #metalhead #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica fanfiction #cliff burton #robert trujillo

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kangasauras · 3 years

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I decided to post the speculative evolution-themed sixfanarts I drew back in October. I have a lot of old art I haven’t posted here yet so I hope you guys will let me indulge myself :D

#speculative biology #speculative evolution #spec evo #xenobiology #sixfanarts #fanart #ignore the tiny lineart I hadn’t figured out what I was doing yet #why are there so many tags along the lines of ‘ignore the’?#it’s actually quite interesting. I wonder what all these ppl were doing #like ‘ignore the cigarette’? aight man #typing the start of tags in and seeing what comes out is actually very fascinating. you guys should try it yourself

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cloveroctobers · 3 years

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September prompts — 30. Nightgown ; Angel Reyes

September song choice: Doja Cat, “Love to dream”

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Angel Reyes always had the nerve and the fucking audacity. At least you could say he was always consistent with the way he carried himself and you still loved his ass no matter how much he got up underneath your skin. You had just drifted off to sleep, curled up on your side after struggling to sleep for the past two hours. You planned everything accordingly even with your bad mood and got into bed at a decent hour just for your mind to scream, “sike!”

You weren’t sure how long you had dosed off but it only felt like a second when your phone went off. You wanted to ignore it and you thought you had your phone on do not disturb but since you didn’t you snatched it off your night table to answer it.

“Hello.” You grumbled.

There was a pause, “is this the gremlin services?”

How corny.

“Angel. The fuck do you want, it’s 1am.”

He laughed, “yeah so funny story—

“I’m going to hang up if you don’t get to the point.”

“I don’t know if anybody’s ever told you this but you’re mean as hell in the mornings, just so you know.” Angel started.

You pulled the phone from your ear and slammed it down on the nightstand but still found yourself putting it on speaker, “you’re not the first and certainly won’t be the last. Have you met my dad? Mr. early bird catches the worm? He’s been on my ass for years about sleeping, a basic human necessity that you’re ruining right now in fact. He called me a whole ass demon when I was like three because I bit his leg one morning because I wanted to sleep rather than go to daycare.”

“He’s not wrong.” Angel commented.

You hummed, “what do you want?”

“Are you busy right now?”

“I just said I was sleeping.”

“But you’re talkin’ to me right now.”

You pinched the space in between your brows trying to count to ten before the anthem of DMX’s, “Party up” began to sound off in your head.

“Aight, I don’t have much time left in this call but I need you to come scoop me from where the pigs lay.”

Your eyes peeled back open as you took some seconds to process that. Did you miss the automated message before you heard angel’s voice? He really felt the need to call you of all people to get him from jail when he had his many brothers? See that. That was some bullshit. So you said nothing choosing to hang up on him instead to check your phone to see multiple texts from EZ and Coco but mostly EZ. He let you know the bail was paid for but someone just needed to get Angel since EZ was out of town on “business” and coco straight up said he wasn’t doing that shit, he apparently had the runs.

Rolling onto your back you took the time to stare up at your ceiling wondering how your life got to this point. That was simple: Angel fucking Reyes. He wasn’t even your man…anymore but yet you still allowed him to have some sort of access to you and you hated yourself for it every time you found yourself in situations like these.

It didn’t take long for you to get down to the station but you wouldn’t lie and say that you didn’t take your sweet time. You took back roads that you normally wouldn’t take at night just to make Angel wonder if he would or wouldn’t be spending the night in jail. Once you placed your ‘67 mustang coupe in park you climbed out of the car, making your way around your vehicle to see Angel coming out lighting up a cigarette. He looked up just in time to see you and drifted his eyes downwards to look at your appearance.

“The hell do you have on, Muñeca?”

Crossing your arms you poked your hip out as you glared at taller man, “are you honestly so concerned about my attire instead of the fact that you woke me up out of my sleep to come get your ass? What got you here tonight Angel?”

Angel stepped to you, “I wasn’t sure you were even gonna come.” He admitted, “and the pig was just starting shit for no reason, you know how that goes.”

You did.

“Thankfully you and ez’s friend, the only decent pig here, franky had my back.” Angel informed now standing in front of you.

Franky Rogan was a good friend to you and Ez. He was actually one along with the very few black kids here (plus the Afro-latinx…the one’s who bothered to claim themselves as such or acknowledged that) in Santo Padre that you engaged with. You and Franky were the same age while ez was two years behind, the three of you meeting in automotive technology class.

You huffed holding out your arms as if to say, ‘what about me?!’ But that just have Angel the opportunity to shake his head at your outfit again.

“Can’t believe you slid through to get me in a fuckin’ nightgown—I’m sure my abuelita probably owed and a bonnet.”

You scrunched your lips mocking the bearded man, “I can’t believe you slid through, oh shut up Angel! You selfishly woke me up to come all the way out here to get you at 1 in the morning—

“I’m just saying you couldn’t have thrown on one of those sexy silk slips instead? Make this feel like a real welcome home party?” Angel brought the cigarette back up to his lips.

DMX was surely playing now. You reached your fingers up and snatched the cigarette from his lips and flicked it to the ground. Angel held his mouth agape at your actions but refrained from saying anything more as he turned to you pointing a finger in his face. He was sure you would poke his eye out with those almond nails and you wouldn’t feel sorry about it either if it happened.

“Listen to you me clearly you bobble headed fruit fly looking asshole, I don’t give two blue fucks what you expected me to come down here in. You woke me up—

You probably weren’t even sleep long. You were probably falling asleep on those shitty Tyler perry shows you made him watch the last time he slept over on in your bed, months ago mouth wide open and shit. But Angel wouldn’t dare say that, not right now anyways. If he did he was sure he would leave here with a possible bleeding mouth and no ride home.

“I am on my damn period and I have cramps up my ass like there’s a ice pick up there every few moments so I don’t need your shit right now.” You explained.

Okay, okay. So maybe Angel felt a little bad. He knew your periods were no joke but he had hope that you would always be down for him and here you were regardless of your cycle. That made him swell with pride…yet felt the need to keep picking.

“Do you need to change your pamper before we roll? I can wait in the car and drive if you want?” Angel suggested and you felt your eye twitch but felt he was being sorta sincere but also an ass since you saw a small smile playing by the corner of his lips.

You quickly inhaled and exhaled before putting your back to Angel and letting out a scream with your mouth still closed for a few seconds. As you stood back up Angel cautiously made his way over to you wrapping his arms around your shoulders to place a kiss on the back of your bonnet. You shrugged him off a couple of times but he wouldn’t budge—of course not. It was clear you might have needed a simple snuggle and for Angel to be a considerate.

“Thank you for doing this, mi querida. I really do appreciate it even though I like to piss you off sometimes.” He said into your ear before sliding his hand down your arm to pluck the keys from your hand.

He walked around sending you a wink before he opened the car door for you, “is your new weekend man who looks like one of my cousins at your place tonight? I wanna crash at your place make you some of that red raspberry leaf tea shit and rub ya boobs if it’ll make you feel any better?”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of the new guy you’ve been seeing on and off recently. It made sense Angel always felt the need to bring him up and how he felt like you couldn’t “escape” him since you were searching for other men that shared some resemblance—you didn’t see it but whatever made him sleep at night you guessed.

Climbing into the car, Angel shut the door behind you resting his arms on the door as he awaited your answer. “He’ll be back next weekend.”

Angel grumbled at that which you laughed caressing his beard.

“You can stay and make me that tea but keep your hands to yourself.” You warned which made Angel grin as he jumped up to get into the driver’s seat.

He started to the engine, “I can do that as long as you keep that little red riding hood’s grandma nightgown on.” He laughed.

You can bet a nice karate chop was sent to his throat which caused more bickering on the car ride back to your place.

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Follow along with my September series here.

#Spotify #Mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #Angel Reyes #Angel Reyes x reader #clayton cardenas #ez reyes #coco Cruz #edwin hodge #jey uso #?#jumped a little bit with the prompt since I probably won’t make it thru the full list this month since I started late lol but this screamed #Angel

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clarabellewrites · 3 years

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chapter one teaser: congratulations

the sun don’t shine when i’m alone / i lose my mind and i lose control / i see your eyes look through my soul

When Fez woke up that morning, the red numbers on his digital alarm clock read 7:00 AM and Lexi’s side of the bed was empty. As far as he knew, that was strike one and two.

How the fuck she leave without me knowin’? thought Fezco, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. In his line of work, Fez had to be ready for anything to happen—good or bad. What was the point of him taking the left side, closest to the door, if he slept through every fucking thing?

Shaking his head, Fez got out of bed and pulled on a pair of pajama pants. The room was dark, shades drawn—a real tripping hazard. He spent a good few minutes trying to find his cigarettes and lighter before swiping them off the bedside table.

Swinging the door open, it was like God said “let there be light” or some shit. Too damn early for this, he thought, shielding his eyes.

Fez had never been a morning person. Then again, neither was his grandma, but comas didn’t really care about that.

Crossing the hallway, he checked on her. In times like this, so early in the morning, he could almost pretend she was asleep like everyone else. Dreaming peacefully. Ready to wake up after a few hours and steal his smokes. The beeping of her heart rate monitor kind of took away from that fantasy.

“Mornin’, grandma,” Fez said, venturing deeper into the room. “How you doin’?”

Her vitals were good. Ashtray was probably in here earlier. Her piss bag was new and empty. Either that or her kidneys were failing, and Fez didn’t wanna think too much about that possibility.

He fluffed her pillow. “Aight, I’ll see ya later,” Fez said.

Hands in his pajama pockets, he made his way past the living room and to the dining area. He could see Lexi moving around in the kitchen. Ash sat at the table, eating a bowl of cereal and scrolling through his phone. Fez punched him on the shoulder.

“Hey, man,” he said. “Whatchu doin’ up?

Only Ashtray could angrily eat a bowl of Froot Loops. “Last week of school,” Ash answered.

To be honest, sometimes Fez forgot that Ash was still enrolled in East Highland Middle School. It was mostly a formality to keep CPS off their back. Fez had to call a guy to get the papers drawn up. Ash O’Neill, adopted son of Marie O'Neill. He called in sick a lot. Chronic illness. Either his teachers truly didn’t give a fuck or Fez had finally perfected the art of forging his grandma’s signature. As long as they weren’t asking any questions, that’s all he cared about.

Deep down, Fez knew he wanted more for his brother. Fezco taught Ashtray everything he knew, from basic math to the different types of drugs they sold. But there was a lot more to life than that. As long as Ash was willing to go, Fez was happy to spend weekdays dealing at the shop alone.

“For real?” Fez said, lighting his first cigarette of the day. “That’s wassup. What grade you in, anyway?”

“Seventh,” he said, spoon clanging loudly in his bowl.

“Yo, congrats,” Fez said, puffing out smoke. “Lemme know if you need a ride or somethin’. I gotta drop Lexi off anyway.”

“She’s listenin’ to her weird music again,” Ash said, ignoring Fez’s offer. “It’s too fuckin’ early for that shit.”

“You give her headphones?” Ash gave him a dark look. “Aight, I’ll talk to her, damn.”

As Fez shuffled to the kitchen, he drank in the sight of his girlfriend. Lexi stood at the stove with her back turned to him, dancing along to music Fez couldn’t hear. She wore a pair of tiny jean shorts and a plaid yellow top, all ready for the day despite the godawful hour.

Her hair was tangled with the white headphone cords. Cigarette hanging from his mouth, Fez wrapped both arms around her waist. “Mornin’, Lex."

“Good morning, Fez,” she said, smiling up at him. She took out the earbuds and placed them around her shoulders. “Are you hungry? I’m making food.”

She had half the fridge out on the kitchen counter and an empty pan in front of her. Raising his eyebrows, he put his cig between two fingers and kissed the side of her neck. “Hell yeah, I’m hungry.”

“Stoppp,” she said, giggling but pushing him away. “Go sit over there or put that out. I don’t want smoke in my eggs.”

“Bossy,” he said, stubbing out the cigarette and jumping up on the cabinet. “Ash said you was listenin’ to your weird music again.”

Lexi rolled her eyes while cracking eggs into a bowl he didn’t know they had. “Hyperpop isn’t weird."

“Hey, that’s what I told ‘im,” Fez agreed, holding up his hands in defense. “You excited for school?”

She poured the mixture into the pan and turned up the heat. “Yeah, finals suck but it’ll be nice to take a break. Plus I have that college class this summer so it won’t be that different.” Lexi sighed. “Is it weird that I’m a little sad?”

“Nah, I getchu,” Fez said, shrugging. “You like school. ’s hard to quit somethin’ you love, even for a lil while.” Just ask Rue, he thought to himself.

Lexi nodded, stirring the eggs with a spoon until they clumped up. They sat in comfortable silence as she cooked.

Fez scratched his beard, thinking about what he had to do for the day. First, eat a bomb ass breakfast that he didn't even have to make himself. Drop Lex and Ash off for school. Head to the store, count the cash in the register and sell a bunch of overpriced Flamin' Hot Cheetos to stoners. Give Grandma her meds at lunch time. Go back to the store, hook up the blue collar crowd—after all, it was 5 o'clock somewhere. Wait until 3:15 PM rolled around and finally, finally it was time for Lexi to come home.

Since when did he measure his days around East Highland's teaching schedule? He hadn't stepped foot in there in years, except for dealing at the winter formal last December. Of course, the answer to that question stood right in front of him—and was currently adding lettuce to his eggs.

"The fuck is that green shit, Lex?" he asked, pointing at the frying pan. Looked like something straight outta Dr. Suess.

"Oh, this? I brought kale from home. It goes really good with eggs," she said, adding some salt and pepper like that'll make it better. At his skeptical look, Lexi added, "What, don't you trust me?"

With my life, he didn't say. "Aight, I trust you." Then, under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear: "Fuckin' green eggs and ham shit, for real."

"Fezco!" she squawked, brown eyes wide as hell, throwing a piece of eggshell at him in fury. He dodged it no problem. "Fine, no food for you then."

"Aw, don' be like that." He laughed and jumped down from the counter, stealing a piece of cheese. He knew Lexi well enough to know she wasn't actually mad. "Lemme make you dinner tonight. None of that kale shit, though."

She pointed the spoon at him. "I'm holding you to that."

read the rest here!

#euphoria #fez x lexi #fezco #fezco euphoria #lexi and fez #lexi howard #lexi x fez #euphoria fic #fanfic #fexi #lexco #lexi euphoria #euphoria fanfic #sorry if this is annoying #i want to move traffic to ao3 if possible :)#but thought it would be good to post a teaser!#my fic #tdf

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vergilthelibrarian · 3 years

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(will I make a second part??? yes actually I will lol)

Jacket!SichengxGenderNetural!Reader

Aight so I'm a bit inspired by Hotline Miami here. It's an awesome game and I highly recommend it. Sicheng will be a bit yandereish here. He is basically an assassin so like his way of being protective and even sweet won't be healthy.

You shook as tears rolled down your cheeks, your hands and feet bound and your mouth duct-taped shut.

It was that bitch Selena’s fault.

You thought she was being nice, inviting you out to a party.

She gave you a drink and, you trusting her, took it, taking sips of the alcoholic beverage.

You started becoming tired and Selena brought you up to an empty room. You passed out, your mind in a haze.

Waking up in a beat-up-looking room wasn’t what you expected but here you were.

The men talked to each other in Russian and you had no idea what they were saying.

One of the men came to you, halting their conversation once they realized you were up.

Your scream was muffled by the tape and you backed up as the man moved close to you, his warm, callous hands grabbing your face.

“What a pretty little thing you are,” he smirked. His breath smelt of mint and cigarettes.

“She was right. You will sell well.” your eyes widen.

Sell?! You thought in a panic.

The man chuckled, letting go of your face.

“Those pretty eyes of yours… The bidders are gonna love you.”

And now here you were on a broken spring mattress, crying your eyes out.

You’ve always had trust issues and the one time you finally decided to put your walls down, you ended up being kidnapped.

The two men were talking to one another until the door to the room suddenly busted open.

Someone in a chicken mask covered in blood barged into the room, a bloody bat in hand.

One of the men stood up only to be knocked down violently with a hit to his temple.

The other man stood up and went for the gun that was sitting on the table in front of him only to be kicked in the stomach.

The stranger in the mask picked up the gun and shot the man in the back of the head.

Then they walked over to where the other man laid and shot him.

They turned slowly, facing you and I started crying harder.

“P-please… Don’t kill me…” you said weakly.

You just wanted to go home.

The stranger said nothing as they put the gun down and walked over to you, picking you up bridal style.

Your arms automatically wrapped around his neck and once again, you passed out.

You awoke in a dimly lit room.

You looked around, worry filling my body up as the events of the past hours came to you.

You leaned up, swinging my legs, your feet connecting to the cool floor, and stood up, wondering where you were.

Walking to the door, you opened it slowly, peeking your head out, looking both ways to see if anyone was there.

Stepping out of the room, you walked to where you heard sound and saw even more dim lighting, quickly found yourself in a living room.

“Oh? You’re awake.” you flinched from a man’s voice. Quickly looking to your side, you saw a man walk out of another room, a bowl of food in hand.

“I ordered some Thai food.” he raised the bowl up a bit. “I thought you might be hungry when you wake up.”

“W-where am I?” you asked, ignoring his words. “Who are you?”

“You’re at my place and my name is Sicheng,” he said, walking to the table in front of the couch, setting the bowl of food down.

“I saved you last night,” he said walking towards you.

“Last night?”

“Mhm.” he stopped right in front of you.

“You were asleep all day. Must’ve been from the fear you felt,” he said, his face unreadable.

“What…” you shook my head. “What happened?”

Sicheng extends his hand out. “Come here.”

You looked at his hand then back at him.

“You can trust me. I won’t hurt you.” his hard eyes soften.

Hesitantly, you grabbed his hand and he led you to his couch, taking a seat.

You sat down, moving so there was some space between the both of you.

“You were drugged and kidnapped by the Russian mafia. They were planning to sell you into the sex trade. My… employer heard what was happening and gave me the job to rescue you.” Sicheng said bluntly.

“Oh…” was all you could say because what could you even say to that?

“C-can… Can I go home?” you asked.

The stranger shook his head.

“No. They’re gonna be looking for you. You have to stay here for a while.”

“Oh…” was all you could say again.

You turned away from the man, staring at your hands, shocked as tears began landing on the skin.

You jumped slightly when you felt a warm hand rubbing your back.

“I know whatever I may say might not comfort you but believe me when I say that you’re safe here. I won’t let them take you. I can promise you that.”

You sighed when you felt Sicheng remove his hand, wanting him to continue comforting you.

He stood up, extending out one of his hands once more.

“I know you’re hungry,” he said and you looked up from your hands, seeing a small smile on his lips.

You grabbed his hand again and Sicheng led you to the kitchen to eat.

#yandere nct #yandere wayv #sicheng x reader #sicheng x male reader #winwin x reader #winwin x male reader #yandere winwin #yandere sicheng

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sbtlns · 4 years

Text

Tiny Dancer

Warnings: smut (!) kind of a crack fic

A/N: so uh we all agree that the finale was trash right? aight just checkin. anyways i reality shifted when i had a high fever and lived a version of this so i figured i would make yall live it too. part two?

Castiel’s cheeks flushed as you moved to straddle the naked angel. His hand moved instinctively to your waist, holding you close as you leaned down to nip at his ear. He groaned at your action, sending a new wave of heat to your core. You continued your ministrations, nipping and sucking at the tender parts of his neck while the debauched angel squirmed beneath you. “y/n,” he said in a strained voice. You stopped your actions to look down at him, meeting his desperate look. You cocked an eyebrow, prompting him to spit it out. “Please,” he strained, raising his hips to meet yours. Deciding you had tortured him enough, you raised your hips slightly and reached beneath you to align him with your entrance. Before you sunk down on him, you gave him one more ‘are-you-sure?’ type of look. He nodded vehemently and you smiled to yourself, returning your focus to his hardened member slightly probing your entrance. You lowered yourself onto him slowly, savoring the way he stretched you out. He moaned a string of your name, each seeming more urgent. “Cas,” you gasped. “y/n.....Y/N.....Y/N!”

You shot up in bed, the sound of Dean yelling your name and pounding on your door startling you to say the least. “Yeah?” you croaked, trying to regain your composure. Dean sighed from the other side of the door, finally, he thought, only took five minutes. “We’ve got a case. Map Room in 5,” he said gruffly. Sensing your annoyance, he added, “Sam made coffee.”

With the promise of coffee, you begrudgingly got out of your bed, shoving the remnants of your dream to the back corner of your mind. You had known Cas for quite some time now, long enough to know that he doesn’t understand human feelings well, let alone romantic feelings. That’s why you decided to try and bury the small crush you had developed for him, which was becoming increasingly harder with the dreams you had been having recently.

Sighing, you got dressed and made your way to the Map Room where you were met with a grumpy looking Dean and a smiling Sam. “Coffee,” Sam said, reaching from his seat to hand you a fresh mug. You were about to thank him when Dean cut you off, “I said 5, not 7.” You threw him a bitch face before turning back to Sam and mouthing thank you, and he smiled in response. You sat down across from Sam as Cas walked in, looking a bit flustered.

“Sorry I’m late, I was caught up in another matter,” he rushed, making his way through the room to join you at the table. “ ‘S alright, Cas, no sweat,” Dean replied, sitting down with a grunt, across from you and Castiel. “Hold up, I got here before Cas why does he get a ‘no worries Cas,’” you mocked in a high pitched voice, “while I get a ‘how dare you be two minutes late,’” you said in you best gruff Dean voice. Sam almost spit out his coffee, earning a huff of annoyance from Dean. “Maybe because Cas didn’t make me bang on his door for five minutes while he was off in dreamland” he countered. Your face blushed at the mention of dreaming, trying not to think of the hot sex scene you had just dreamt about the angel next to you. “Whatever” you huffed, “let’s just get on to the case, yeah?”

Sam nodded, pulling up his laptop. “So get this, reports of cattle mutilations, power outages, and now three missing persons reports all in y/h/t. I’m thinking demons. What about you guys?” Dean nodded, sipping at his coffee. “Sounds like our kinda thing” he replied. Castiel nodded silently in agreement. Sam turned to face you, “y/n, thoughts?” Your heart was beating fast and you were sure your cheeks were red. Sam looked at you with furrowed brows. “Hey, you good?” he asked concerned. You forced a smile and nodded, realizing now that the three men were all staring at you. You cleared your throat before saying, “Yeah, it’s just...that’s my hometown is all.” You sighed, “You’re right, sounds like demons though,” you added quickly before taking another sip of coffee. The three men shared a quick glance.

“Um,” Sam started uneasily, “You gonna be okay taking this case?” he asked genuinely. You hadn’t shared much about your past with the boys, nodding and laughing at the stories about their past they told you and quickly changing the subject before anyone could ask about yours. You nodded curtly, raising the mug to your lips again. Memories of your past filled your mind, not totally unpleasant, but enough to make you uneasy about returning to your hometown. You were silently hoping that you could get in kill whatever douchebag demons were causing havoc, and get out without having to deal with anything dealing with your old job.

Sam didn’t seem convinced. “You sure? I mean we could always call Garth and see-” “I’m sure,” you cut him off. You stood from your chair abruptly, causing the legs to squeak unpleasantly. “I’ll get packed and meet you guys in the garage,” you said before turning on your heel and making your way to your room. You grabbed a bag and filled it with the essentials, glancing at the pair of cowboy boots sitting long ignored in your closet. You sighed to yourself, remembering happier moments from your old job, before management became a shit show. Feeling nostalgic, you decided to throw the boots in your bag before zipping it and heading to the garage.

The boys were already chatting by the car when you made your way to the garage. You threw your bag in the trunk, closed it, and climbed in the back of Baby, the boys following suit. On the drive to your hometown, Dean sheepishly handed you a stack of cassettes, his way of apologizing for earlier. You beamed back at him and picked out your favorites, handing them to Sam to queue up. Not before long, your eyelids grew heavy and you drifted off to sleep in the backseat.

Dean must’ve hit a bump, because you woke up with a start, disoriented for a moment. It took a second for you to realize that in your sleep, you had laid your head on Castiel’s shoulder, close enough to him so that you were practically draped along his side. You quickly scrambled back to your side of the car, not missing the soft smile and forlorn look Cas had given you. “Oh look, sleeping beauty’s awake,” Dean joked. You stuck your tongue out at him, settling back into your seat. “So y/n, we found out that all three vics have something in common, they’re all regulars at some place called The Saloon” Sam filled you in, placing a Southern drawl on the name of your past employer.

Your blood ran ice cold and you stared back at him with wide eyes. He was still smiling, pleased with himself for his accent, when he realized you were panicking. The smile dropped from his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, drawing Dean and Castiel’s attention. Dean shot you a confused glance from the rearview. “What’s wrong princess? Don’t like linedancing?” he joked. You gulped. “Um,” you started. “I uh...” you cleared your throat. “I used to work there,” you mumbled. Sam raised his eyebrows in amusement and Dean fought back a laugh. “Wha-you,” he wheezed, struggling not to burst out laughing. “Our very own tiny dancer, huh?” he mused. You huffed and crossed your arms across your chest, cheeks burning red. Sam turned back around in his seat, holding his laughter in with a smile. Castiel broke the silence, “I don’t understand, is it shameful to dance in a line?” With that, the boys couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out into fits of laughter.

The rest of the drive wasn’t too bad, besides Dean’s off-tune humming of Elton John’s Tiny Dancer. You pulled into town and checked into the nearest motel, silently thanking the universe that Dean had booked two separate rooms. You might have offed yourself then and there if you had to spend another night listening to Sam’s snores. After settling in, you got dressed in your FBI best and met back by the car. The four of you drove to The Saloon, you becoming more and more anxious the closer you got. Dean pulled up to the gravel lot and took in the building with an amazed look. He kept his eyes on the building as he got out of the car, “Oh ho ho, get look at this,” he said incredulously. Before you stood a massive red barn with a huge blinking neon sign of a half naked woman riding a bull with a lasso spinning in her hand.

“Yeah yeah, let’s just get this over with,” you huffed, pushing past him and walking into the bar. The familiar scent of beer and cigarettes hit you the second you walked in, taking in the sight of the huge stage in front of you along. A few girls were dancing on stage, with a handful of customers sitting and watching. You heard the door open behind you as the boys stepped in and sighed before turning to face them. Dean looked like a kid on Christmas smiling widely and looking around the bar, while Sam scanned the room looking for the owners. Cas stood in place, staring perplexed at the women dancing. You followed his gaze to the stage where one of the girls was swinging her hips slowly and deliberately to the beat of the song. You turned back to him, his head cocked to the side as he mumbled, “Well that’s inappropriate.”

Trying to hide the blush creeping to your cheeks, you quickly turned back around, just in time to see your old manager strutting towards you. You took a deep breath, ready for the coming bullshit. “Well well well,” he said with a smug smirk on his face. “If it isn’t Miss Daisy Duke herself.” You felt your cheeks get hot and heard Dean snort. “I’m sorry,” Dean said, looking at you like this was too good to be true. “Daisy Duke?” he repeated. Your cheeks were burning by this point, praying that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

“That’s right,” your old manager said in his chill inducing Southern drawl. “You know how it goes, ‘nice legs...daisy dukes...makes a man go-’” he whistled, finishing the line and turning your cheeks an even deeper red. “Miss Daisy here was our pride and joy,” he said, turning to Dean. “Best dance this bar has ever seen,” he finished, turning back to you. He smiled devilishly at you, humming in contentment. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Daisy?” he asked sickeningly sweetly. Fighting to hold on to whatever shred of dignity you had left, you pulled out your fake badge and held it up. “It’s Agent Jett now, thanks,” you spat, flashing it in his face before putting it back in your jacket pocket. He squinted back at you. Sam cleared his throat in attempt to break the tension before telling him about the missing persons reports. Your old boss soaked in the information Sam was giving him, but stayed silent, still squinting at you.

Sam looked uncomfortably between the two of you before clearing his throat again and asking, “Do you have any security cameras that might have caught anything? Any possible witnesses?” Your old boss shifted his glance to Sam and replied, “Maybe.” Sam stared back, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, Dean cut in. “Maybe?” he asked gruffly with an eyebrow cocked. Your old boss nodded, pursing his lips together. “Depends,” he stated simply, crossing his arms. You could tell Dean was losing his patience quickly because he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “On what?” he asked, voice tight. Your old boss simply shrugged. “On if Miss Daisy will give us another show tonight.”

Your jaw dropped open. Did he say what you thought he said? Sam, Dean, and Cas all turned to stare at you, trying to gauge your reaction. Dean looking more amused than anything, and Sam trying to see whether or not he had to step in between you. “I’m sorry, what?” you croaked. Your old boss gave you the same devilish smile that sent chills down your spine. “I said,” he took another step closer to you, “I’ll talk...if you would grace The Saloon with one last dance. For old time’s sake.” The three boys looked at you expectingly. You looked incredulously among them. “You can’t be serious,” you protested.

He was. You found yourself back in your motel room, changing out of your FBI clothes and into your shortest denim shorts and your most revealing tanktop. You silently cursed yourself for packing your boots, as it seemingly jinxed you into your current situation. After you were changed, you fell back into your old routine of hair and makeup, becoming almost unrecognizable in the mirror. As you were applying the last bit of hairspray, you heard a knock at your door. “Y/n, we gotta go!” you heard Dean yell. Sighing, you slipped into your boots, took one last look in the mirror, and summoned the courage to open the door.

When you opened the door, it took them a second to react, all three reacting differently. Sam looked at you with raised brows and an amused smile, Dean whistled, and Castiel’s eyes widened before slowly trailing down your body. You felt yourself blush under his scrutiny, until it became unbearable and you snapped your fingers in his face. “My eyes are up here buddy,” you feigned anger, startling him from his trance. “I-uh m-my apologies, y/n” he stumbled over his words, looking down at his feet. Dean laughed and clapped his shoulder before walking towards Baby.

The drive over was silent, with the occasional ‘heh’ from Dean, as he thought about the ridiculousness of this day. You dreaded every mile he drove closer to the bar, wondering why Castiel couldn’t have just used his angel powers to make your old boss cough up whatever info he had. You sighed as Dean pulled up to the bar once again and begrudgingly opened your car door. “Did you guys really have to come?” you whined, trying to stall. “Of course we did princess. What if the demons are here tonight?” Dean said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at the excuse. Sam turned to you with a look of pity. “Seriously though, y/n, if you’re uncomfortable at any point just say the word. We’ll leave and we can find another way to get the information,” he said and smiled softly. You nodded and sighed before making your way into the barn.

You opened the door and to your dismay, the place was packed. You groaned as you stepped further in before you made eye contact with one of your old coworkers. “Y/n?” she said shocked, a huge smile forming on her face. “Jimmy said you were coming but I didn’t believe him, no one did,” she said before pulling you into a huge hug. You relaxed into the hug, her being one of the very few people in town that you still kept in contact with. “Yeah well,” you said pulling back. “One night only kinda thing,” you finished, choosing to ignore the way her and Dean were eye-fucking next to you. She turned her attention back to you and took your hand. “Well, we better get you stage ready, Jimmy’s queuing up your signature!” she said excitedly, pulling you away. You threw a quick glance behind you at the boys before realization dawned on you. “Hey!” you yelled back to them, getting their attention. “Do NOT sit in this section!” you tried to point to the front left, but your friend was pulling you too fast and they just gave you confused looks.

Before you knew it, you were back stage, pacing with anxiety. You heard the current song stop and you dreaded what was coming. “Ladies and gentlemen,” you heard Jimmy’s chilling voice draw out. “Please give a big Saloon welcome...returning back to the stage... Miss Daisy Duke!” You shoved your nerves down and forced a smile before strutting out on stage. You quickly fell back into your old routine, strutting around the stage and swaying your hips to your opening music. One dance and that’s all you said to yourself. You knew that from the song Jimmy had chosen, your signature, that in the middle of the routine you would have to go down to the audience and dance for whoever the spotlight shown on. You continued your dance, praying that the boys had listened to you and had chosen anywhere else to sit. As the part of the song drew closer, you scanned the audience to gauge about who you would be giving a lapdance to. Dean raised his hand to catch your scanning eyes, with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on him. You rolled your eyes before realizing that they hadn’t taken your warning and had sat in that section.

You shot him a death glare before turning back to your dance, hoping that the spotlight would shine on anyone but them. The drunken cheers and whistles from the crowd were just about the only thing keeping you from running off stage and straight to the motel. You heard the cue in the music, prompting you to saunter down the main steps and into the audience. Sighing to yourself, you grabbed the mic and made your way to the steps. The music stopped, prompting your lines. “Gentlemen,” you said with your best honeyed Southern accent. “It’s one of your lucky nights” you finished, and the music started back up. You felt all eyes on you and tried to keep yourself from freaking out as you continued your routine. You heard the third cue in the music as the spotlight came down. You held your breath, praying that it would land anywhere but where it did. To your horror, it landed on Castiel.

Fuck you thought. The angel looked utterly confused, looking up and around him, completely thrown off by the sudden wash of light encompassing him. If it was possible, Dean’s smile grew even wider as he excitedly looked to Cas and clapped him on the shoulder. Castiel looked at him through furrowed brows, before following his gaze to you. You locked eyes with the bewildered angel, walking over to him as sexy as you could. A surge of confidence filled you when you saw his Adam’s apple bob and his jaw clench. In accordance with your routine, you walked right up to Castiel and kneeled in front of him, gently nudging his knees apart so you could settle between them. Castiel looked down at you with wide eyes, throat bobbing once more.

“And what might your name be, handsome?” you said into the mic, part of the routine. You held the mic out to Cas, which made him even more confused as he stared into your eyes, searching for any clue as to why you were asking for his name. The music was stopped again, waiting for his reply. Dean elbowed him, prompting him to answer. “Uh... Cas-Castiel,” he finally spat out. You mouthed a quick I’m so sorry and gave him an apologetic look before standing up and saying “Well, Castiel, I’ve got a special treat for you.” The music came back on and you handed the mic off to a stagehand, before turning back to Cas.

With the spotlight still on him, you sauntered over to Castiel, swaying your hips to the music along the way. He sat unnaturally still, legs still apart from when you spread them, just barely exposing the small bulge beginning to form in his pants. You felt heat pool in your core at the sight, struggling to keep your focus on the routine. You made your way back in front of him, before turning away from him to swing your hips to the music. Turning back around, you saw him watching your movements closely, his once bright blue eyes now dark, pupils blown out from lust. You swallowed before placing your hands on his shoulders and climbing onto his lap. This surprised him, as his breath caught in his throat and his hands flew instinctively to your hips. You leaned in to whisper “don’t touch, the bodyguards won’t allow it.” He ripped hands off of you as if your skin burned him and he looked up at you with wide eyes.

You began grinding against him, moving your hips to the music and gaining more drunken cheers, one distinctively from Dean, earning him a smack on the back of his head from his younger brother. Castiel couldn’t care less about the audience, you had his undivided attention. He couldn’t help the noises coming from the back of his throat, nor could he seem to keep his vessel under control. His hands twitched at his sides, desperate to touch you. You felt him becoming harder and harder, making it more difficult for you to stay focused on your routine. You climbed off his lap, danced in front of him some more, and then sat back down, this time facing away from him. You ground you ass against his hardened member, earning a low moan from the angel. You felt your panties dampening, enjoying this just as much as he was. You continued grinding against him to the music, the crowd continuing to cheer, and Castiel continuing to squirm beneath you.

Once more, you stood up from him, danced more of your routine, and straddled the utterly debauched angel. You worked hard to avoid eye contact, but slipped up and locked eyes with Castiel. To your delight, he donned the same desperate look from the dream you had earlier that morning. You shifted your hips to grind against him, causing his head to fall back to his shoulders and his mouth to part slightly. More heat pooled in your core the more you ground against him, a coil starting to form in your belly. Fuck you thought to yourself. Luckily, the fourth and final cue came in the music, signaling your return to the stage. You breathed a sigh of relief, climbed off of him, and pecked his cheek before sauntering back to the stage to finish the song. From the stage, you watched Castiel shift uncomfortably in his seat, trying and failing to conceal his tented slacks.

Finally, the song ended and you blew a kiss to the crowd before skipping off stage, thankful to be done. While you were chatting with some of the girls, Dean came to get you, trying to hide his amusement as he told you Sam had gotten the tapes from Jimmy. You breathed a sigh of relief, glad that this night was over. Dean walked you back out to the car, where Sam and Cas were waiting. Cas looked up hearing footsteps, and his eyes widened when they met yours. He quickly looked down and avoided your stare until you got back to the car. The four of you got in silently and sat for a moment before you heard Dean breathe in as if he was about to say something.

“Don’t,” you said quickly. “I don’t want to hear anything about tonight ever again. Capiche?” Dean muttered something under his breath and Sam gave you a tight nod, eager to also forget the events of the night. You took a deep breath and turned to Cas. “Castiel,” you began, and you could’ve sworn you saw him flinch at your words. “I really am sorry. I wasn’t expecting it to land on you, I told you three not to sit there..” you trailed off. He couldn’t meet your gaze. Instead he nodded and replied, “Our apologies for not realizing your meaning.” His eyes momentarily flicked up to yours before landing back down into his lap. You followed his gaze, and he seemingly noticed, as he once again shifted in his seat, trying to conceal the still obvious bulge.

This was going to be a fun ride back.

#castiel #cas #castiel x reader #cas x reader #castiel x reader smut #castiel fanfiction #supernatural fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural crack

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

F Like a Pornstar

Pairing: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Angel finds out a little secret about you.

Warnings: Smut

A/N: My rewatch of Mayans helped me come up with this idea.

Lightly edited, so sorry for any mistakes

Too caught up running after your sister, you didn’t pay attention to the motorcycles in front of the house. Kyle stormed into the house, yelled her husband’s name, and ran up the stairs.

“Y/N.” You heard a familiar voice call you, halting your journey. Turning around you saw your boyfriend crooking his finger telling you to come here.

“Baby!” Your whole demeanor changed when you saw Angel. As you made a beeline to him you greeted the other Mayans. Looked like the whole crew was here.

Right when you were in arm’s reach, Angel hugged you and kissed your shoulder, that earned him a bunch of joking ‘awwws’ from his brothers.

Angel flipped them all off. He didn’t care what they think as long as he has you. “What are you doing here?” He asked, confused at how you ended up at a whore house.

You explained to him how you and Kyle were out for drinks when she decided she wanted to see where her no-good husband was. The Find My app led you to Vicki’s and now you were pretty sure that Kyle’s husband was about be murdered.

“Damn, Vic, you gonna let her kill her husband?” Coco asked, turning his attention away from the girl in his lap.

Vicki assured everyone that Kyle wasn’t gonna kill him. Apparently, this happens all the time and its good entertainment for Vicki and the girls. Plus, she just charged your douchebag brother-in-law extra.

Someone else called your name, but this time it was a woman. In her black kimono and matching black lingerie came Mimi running towards you. “Y/N!!! OMG, girl you look good.” She juggled your boobs.

Angel took in your outfit in its totality and he agreed with Mimi. You looked good, a little too good for his taste. You wore a burnt orange top that crossed in the front, which showed off a generous amount of cleavage, light washed ripped blue jeans hugging your ass, brown heels showing off those pretty white toes Angel wanted to suck, and Fenty Gloss Bomb and Body Lava to top it off. He can’t believe you went out like that without him.

“She’s right, mi dulce. You look fucking sexy, wait til we get home.” Angel smacked your ass and nibbled on your ear.

An unimpressed grunt was heard across the room. “I doubt she can pleasure him.” A short blonde told another girl.

This wasn’t unusual. Angel being a Mayan and extremely attractive made other girls jealous of you and disrespectful. Early on you used to jack them up, but eventually you learned to ignore them especially since Angel proved he only had eyes for you.

“Don’t do my friend like that! Remember Vegas, Y/N?” Mimi came to your defense.

As you remembered that weekend, a smile crept on your face. That was one wild ass weekend.

“What happened in Vegas,” EZ asked, noticing your smile.

“Old same old same old,” Mimi answered. “Partying, drinking, gambling. But then we got invited to this sex club and Ms. Thang over there had sex with a pornstar.”

All the men in the room were interested now. It was no secret that you were wild child, but they didn’t expect that.

“Who was she?” Eagerness laced Angel’s voice.

You were about to lie. Angel didn’t need to know all the sordid details, but Mimi had to open her big mouth. “She?! No, she got to fuck the Manuel Ferrera.”

Desperately, you tried to get Mimi to shut up, but she wouldn’t. “Remember he said you were the best he ever had? Didn’t he get your number?” You confirmed her guess with a slight nod. “My girl got the shit that yanks!” Mimi bragged as if she was talking about herself.

At this point you could’ve burst into flames by how hot your face was. You could feel Angel staring holes in your head and the bemused faces on the other Mayans didn’t help.

“He was aight. Nothing to write home about.” You tried to calm the storm brewing in Angel, but once again Hurricane Mimi blew in.

“Just okay?! Girl, you couldn’t shut up about the dick the whole way home! Best dick of your life! Didn’t you cal-” Mimi was about to go on, but she finally caught the look on your face. “Um, I think I heard a customer,” Mimi pointed to the stairs. “Imma catch you later.”

“Best dick of your life, huh?” Coco took a drag of his cigarette and smirked. He loved giving you shit.

Angel looked at you expectantly, but you kept your mouth shut. This was a discussion better for home.

“Okay, then.” Angel spoke to himself then threw you over his shoulder. “Let’s see if he’s still the best.”

An inhuman screech came out your mouth as you called Angel’s name. “You can’t do this here! Vicki has money to make, she can’t be wasting it on us!”

Gilly pulled out his wallet and gave Vicki a couple of hundreds, for which Angel thanked him and promised to pay him back.

“Fuck you, Gilly!” You double flipped off said man as Angel went up the stairs.

Gilly toasted his beer to you. “Looks like Angel already about to beat me to the punch!”

An eruption of laughter broke out as Angel continued up the stairs. On the first try, he found an empty bedroom and threw you on the bed.

“Aw c’mon Angel, you can’t be that upset about a guy I messed around with before you. Anyway, I’m the one who should be upset. You’re the one at a brothel!”

“We’re checking on Creep.” Angel began undressing himself. He knew your brain always short-circuits when he takes off his clothes.

“Well, he uh he looks fine to me. Let’s finish this at home.” Angel pulled you off the bed and stood behind you. You could feel his hardened length against your back.

His fingers expertly unbuttoned your jeans and he went straight for your clit, rubbing small circles. “Angel,” you cried out in ecstasy.

Licking your hand, you reached behind you and started stroking Angel. “Fuck, querida.” Angel groaned, leaning his head back. “See, you don’t wanna stop, sweetheart. I think you wanna show that little puta down there that you can more than enough please your man.”

“5 minutes.”

“I knew your ego couldn’t handle being challenged.” Angel undressed you and pushed you back to the bed. “Would you have even agreed if she didn’t run her mouth?”

“I’ll never tell.” You pretended to zip up your mouth and throw away the key, but Angel knew exactly how to get you to open your mouth. Without warning he slid into you and the both of you moaned.

Angel leaned in closer to you. “Shit, Y/N, it may be less than five minutes by the way you’re gripping me.” His pace started off slow, but he couldn’t help to pick it up. When y’all got home, Angel planned to take his time, explore your body, tease you, and slowly make love to you, but right now wasn’t the time. He had a point to prove. You had a point to prove.

“Whose pretty pussy is this?” Angel slipped his hand between the two of you and rubbed on your clit.

“Yours,” you whimpered against Angel’s lips.

“Mmm, that wasn’t loud enough. Try again.” Angel pushed your legs back until your ankles were by your ears.

His dick went deeper than before, so deep that you could feel him in your stomach. “It’s yours,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, your nails marking up his back.

“Damn right, mi dulce! I better not hear about that man ever again; do you understand me?”

You brought your lips up to Angel. “Yes, now make me cum!” You ordered against his ears.

Angel smiled against your cheek and gave you a sweet kiss. “Yes ma’am.” But that kiss was completely different by the way he was pounding into you. Angel’s thrusts were becoming erratic, letting you know he would be coming right along with you.

Soon, the both of you were yelling out each other’s name in euphoria with a string of curse words followed by some heavy panting and a little laughter at the current situation you were in.

Finally dressed, you checked yourself in the mirror to make sure that nothing was out of place. “Angel, I swear if you sweated out my blowout, you’re paying for the next one.” You tried your best to slick down some of your fly-aways.

Angel buckled up his belt as he came to stand behind you. “I told you not to get it, but no you just had to. I should let your little spoiled ass look crazy.”

Facing him with a mega-watt smile you slid your arms around his waist. “So, that means you’ll get it?”

Rolling his eyes, Angel to agree to paying for the next blowout. “Spoiled ass,” he mumbled when y’all exited the room.

Another door opened as soon as y’alls did, revealing an old white guy with thinning hair and beer belly. “How much for her?” He asked, his eyes unashamedly raking over your body. In no time, Angel pulled out his gun and told the disgusting man that you weren’t for sell, making the dude scurry back into his room.

As the two you were laughing down the stairs, you heard Kyle tell Lance she wanted a divorce. “What? What do you mean you want a divorce? Just because you heard your sister get fucked like the biker whore she is, you want to leave me? Me? Pathetic.” Venom was dripping from Lance’s tongue and you were about to knock him out like you did the first time you found out he cheated on Kyle, but Angel stopped you.

All of the Mayans perked up and immediately were on the defense. “Watch your mouth before we have to do something about it.” Bishop ordered the prick. Lance may be oblivious and unappreciative, but he wasn’t a total idiot. In a hurry, he left Vicki’s before he got his ass beat.

It was quiet for a little bit after Lance left in a rush until you spoke up. “So, all I had to do was let you listen to me have sex and that’s what would’ve got you to leave his lame ass?! Bitch I would’ve done that a long time ago!”

Kyle waved off your silliness even if it was true. Albeit repulsive to hear her baby sister to get her back broke, it awakened something in her. Never in her entire ten years with Lance had she known pleasure like that. And then to see Angel doting on you just after it sounded like y’all have the nastiest sex made her want more.

“First order of business: get you some new dick! Gilly? EZ? Coco?” You were arranging the men like a buffet table. EZ was mortified, Gilly had the sense to pretend to, and Coco looked like he was up for game.

“Y/N,” she sighed at your fast attempt to get her a rebound. “Not now. Anyway, can I drive your car back home? I planned on riding back with Lance, but that’s obviously not happening.”

Angel dug in your back pocket and threw the keys to Kyle. “Here you go. I’ll get her home safely.” You gave Kyle a hug goodbye and you promised to bust Lance’s kneecaps if he tried to do any fuck shit.

For a couple of more minutes you and Angel stay behind to check on Creep and say your goodbyes. When you hugged Mimi, the snooty blonde was near her and she still seemed pissed off that you managed to bag Angel. “Next time,” you fluffed her hair ad if you were friends. “Try another bitch because I’m not the one, two, or three.” You patted her shoulders and gave her ‘I’ll kill you bitch’ smile.

Angel started to guide you towards the door before you can do any damage to the girl. Once you got to the front door threshold you stopped and turned to the girl. “Oh, if what you heard earlier wasn’t proof that my shit yanks, maybe I’ll invite you to watch and you may get some pointers.” You stuck out your tongue and twerked on Angel to the music in your head.

Mimi pointed a perfectly manicured finger at you and screamed, “HELL MOTHERFUCKIN’ YEAH! MY GIRL SHIT YANKS!” Everyone either shook their head at your antics or broke out in laughter, except stanky ass attitude girl.

Now Angel needed to get you home asap. He smacked your ass to push you out the door. “Yo, you into that exhibitionism shit?” By the way he asked and the look on his face, you knew he was hoping for a yes.

“Only if you also allow another man to watch.”

“Fuck no!” Angel strapped in your helmet a little too tight due to his little outburst of jealous. You cackled as you hopped on the back of bike. Bet, he won’t ask another stupid question like that again.

Tagging: @marvelmaree @titty-teetee @thickemadame @cocooned-butterfly @ladydragonpurplefire @mrsamaroevans @sparklemichele @briannab1234

#black!reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x plus sized!reader #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans #mayans mc #mayans fandom #mayans fanfic #mayans mc fandom #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fanfiction #frizzlewrites

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

Text

Sparks Must Fly to Start a Fire (2/2)

Hellooooo again people. This is the second part as promised! It concludes the small serie, for a grand total of 12.5k words, which is higher than my average if I’m honest 😂 I had so much fun writing this, thanks anon! I hope it was up to your expectations! Enjoy part 2 xx

Masterlist in bio // pinned

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Word count: 7106

Warnings: violence, language, a bit of trauma

Day 9

“... There is no development in the case, all search parties came up with nothing. The GCPD now believes the disappearance of the young woman has a direct link to the major leak of incriminating documents that were shared to the DA’s office. The investigation, conducted by commissioner Gordon, might sound the fall of an empire of organized crime in Gotham if it goes through trial…”

“I was supposed to marry Vitto, today” You spoke up with mild boredom over yet another news story about you. You hadn’t realized time had flown this fast ever since you betrayed your family.

“Oh, oh wow” Jason hadn’t expected that. “Why would anyone do that?”

In the last days you had gotten into a semi-comfortable routine. The bickering was still very much present, but the snark had considerably deescalated. You had now tasted every snack he told you regular people ate, even those energy drinks he seemed to like to consume during long drives. You had even taken a cautious liking to the canned soups, which remained the only thing you knew how to make on a stove. Still, you didn’t escape Jason’s mockery everytime you didn’t know how to do something “simple”. You didn’t think you’d ever escape it, no matter what.

“It’s not like I had a choice” You said as a matter of fact, leaning back on the headrest of the car. “Women in my world are either trophies or mothers, depending on whether or not they’re still in their prime”

“Let me guess, you were to be Vitto’s trophy?”

“Bingo”

“How old is he, like 50?” He snorted.

“46” You corrected. “Not that it makes any difference”

Jason gagged. “Guess you dodged a serious bullet there”

“God, marrying that manwhore plagued my nightmares for weeks” You chuckled, looking up at the roof of the car. “Hope he rots in jail once this is over”

“Arranged marriage, uh?” He said, sending you a quick uncomfortable glance. Something akin to remorse flashed very briefly across his face, but it was gone as soon as it came. You only nodded. “Sorry about that”

“Don’t be” You brushed off. “That was essentially their downfall in the end. Half of the reasons why I leaked the documents was to prove to my family I am not a chew toy to throw to the dogs. A power grab was out of the question, especially after one of my distant cousins, Alaina, tried and got gunned down. I thought if I was to get killed, I’d go down trying to be better”

Your words were followed by silence, and you realized you had said too much. You didn’t want or need his pity. You cleared your throat and looked away. Soon enough, Jason pulled into a shady looking motel and stopped the car. You glanced in disgust at the overall state of the motel, thinking about how it was definitely the worst one you had stayed in so far, even if you hadn’t stepped foot in yet. The vacancy sign was flashing against the sunset in the distance, and it gave you serious serial killer vibes.

You grabbed your travel bag from the backseat and followed Jason in. The neons inside were barely functioning, casting a harsh glow on the lobby, if anyone could call it a lobby. The man behind the counter looked up at the sound of the little bell above the door and stood up slowly, showing off the grease stains on his yellowed wife-beater. He gave the impression of being just as crooked as his motel, especially with the creepy grin he gave the both of you, but especially to you. Jason walked up to the counter, unbothered by the general mood of the place.

“Good evening” The clerk greeted with a smoke clouded voice, glancing in between you two. “For an hour or two?”

You grimaced while Jason blinked slowly. Then, he smiled one of his smiles that looked normal, but hid something dangerous when you looked close. You had found yourself on the other end of those more times than not ever since he became your unofficial bodyguard. “Got anything for the night?”

The clerk laughed while you wanted to hit him. Hit them both, actually.

“I like your style, kid” He wrote something on his clipboard before turning around and grabbing a key from the wall. “That’ll be 60”

Jason took out three 20$ bills from his wallet and handed them in exchange for the keys. Jason however leaned further on the counter. “How thick are the walls in there?”

“You sly dog” He chortled, and Jason joined. “Don’t worry, if your girl ain’t much of a screamer nobody will know what you be doing. Here, take that, if you want some more fun”

“Perfect” His lips curled up as he accepted the flyer handed to him. You caught a glimpse of the bright green paper, announcing some kind of escort service. “Thanks”

“Aight kid, room 141. Have fun”

You forced yourself to ignore the lusty eyes he sent your way and snatched the keys from Jason’s hand, hurrying to the room. “What was that?” You hissed under your breath.

“You’re in a place full of suspicious people” He hissed back. “You gotta act suspicious with them or they’ll single you out”

“Did you really have to make it seem like I was a prostitute?” You said as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. You stepped in and let him in, before locking again the door behind him.

“There’s nothing wrong with being…” He trailed off as he halted his steps. His frame blocked the sight of the room for you, so you didn’t know what he was talking about. Was it dirty? Were there rodents? “Oh you must be fucking kidding me”

You finally peeked around him, to see only one bed rather than the two queens he usually asked. He had forgotten this time to ask, and the clerk had naturally insinuated you’d want to be together. How could he have not?

“At least it’s a King bed this time” You sniggered. “More space”

“I’m gonna get it changed” He turned around to go back to the reception desk.

“Wasn’t it you who said not to act suspicious?” You raised a challenging eyebrow. “If you go back there and ask for two beds, won’t that ruin all that acting you did over there?”

He spun around once again, facing you with narrowed eyes. He obviously didn’t like you using his logic against him. “Right.” He then side stepped you and went straight to the windows. He closed the blinds and proceeded to check the walls for… Whatever. He looked strange doing it.

“And right now you’re…” You trailed off, trying to find why he was all but caressing the dirty walls.

“Checking for cameras” He finished, looking inside a lamp. “Those motels sometimes have hidden cameras and the owners resell the tapes on porn sites”

“Oh god” You reacted, horrified. And he had the audacity to paint you off as a criminal, when those kinds of people existed. You thought you would be sick. He paused, sending you what you thought was a concerned glance--but it couldn’t be--before he returned to his examination.

“That’s why I’m making sure there’s none here” He mumbled.

You nodded, then carefully made your way to the bed. Despite the overwhelming scent of cigarettes latched onto the fabric, the sheet seemed relatively clean, at least for the general quality of the establishment. You dropped your bag in front of the dresser beside you and sat on the edge of the bed as Jason finished his inspection.

“All clear” He announced before taking out his gun from his belt and putting it on the nightstand. “You should rest, we won’t stay here too long. Also, if you can avoid the shower, I’d recommend you wait until we are somewhere else”

“I hate it here”

“Yeah well, our disastrous stop to Target has kind of tied our hands, princess” He shrugged, like it was your fault you had been found. “So we gotta settle for even less if you don’t want a redo”

“Will you ever stop calling me that?” You glared at him.

“What, princess?” He asked rhetorically, then paused and pretended to think. “No, no I don’t think so”

“You’re insufferable” You scoffed, climbing up further on the bed.

“I wouldn’t get under the covers either” He warned as you were about to pull back the comforter, totally ignoring your comment on his general attitude. “I doubt they’re washing them real good”

You shuddered in disgust as you instead opted for bringing your knees to your chest, hoping the room wouldn’t get too cold during the night.

Day 10

You didn’t if it was your state still clouded by sleep, or the shock that made you see the scene happen in slow motion.

Jason was waking up, sitting in the bed at a reasonable distance from you as your eyes cracked open. Still, you saw the sequence clearly. His back tensed and his head snapped to the window, then his eyes widened. He reacted in a fraction of second, grabbing his gun on the fly and diving on your side. You had barely the time to register his body colliding with yours that the first machine gun went off. You hit the ground hard, but you didn’t feel anything in the spike of adrenaline and paralyzing fear that surged through you. You could only close your eyes as bullets rained over you, and yet you weren’t even touched by the wood and cotton flying everywhere as his body caged yours in protection. His string of curse was audible above the commotion, which let you know he wasn’t gravely wounded yet. Yet.

There was a pause in the shooting, but your eyes were still ringing so loud you didn’t hear him call your name at first. You opened your eyes, disoriented.

“Hey, hey stay with me” He hurried his words, glancing over his shoulders. “Roll under the bed, don’t come out until I come and get you, and if they try to get you, hit them with anything you find, aim for the head”

You could only nod as he helped you get under the bed, and for one you couldn’t even be bothered to notice how filthy it was under there. You were terrified for you, but also for Jason who would face those people with a handgun only. You just hoped his skills hadn’t been exaggerated, or else it would be bad news for everyone.

There was chatter in between the gun fires, but you couldn’t decipher the voices. You counted there were at least six different tones of shout. However, judging by the familiar smugness of the exchange, you could have sworn it was Jason mocking them and not the other way around. It made you wonder exactly what kind of security he had done if he was taking the time to be smug in a one against five fight. Still, you were glad to have him on your side rather than against you.

“Hey”

You jumped and screamed at the sudden face appearing to your left, but let out a breath of relief when you saw it was Jason. He helped you out from under the bed, his glance shifty in between the door and windows. The room was a mess, he was covered in blood you doubted was his, and he was still on guards.

“So, we need to leave now” He said, already picking up his bag and yours. You noticed a second gun now strapped on his thigh and various new weapons in a utility belt. Where he got that was a mystery, but you didn’t question it. He gently pressed you along the bodies dropped at the threshold of the room and in the hallway until you reached the reception desk. You counted seven bodies. The same creepy clerk was cowering behind his desk, a darker stain on the crotch of his pants. Jason gave him an overall look and sighed, shaking his head. Still, he paused in front of him and dropped the bags.

“You son of a bitch” He chuckled lowly, menacingly. “You sold us out, didn’t you?”

He whined in response, confirming Jason’s suspicion.

“How much did you cash on the tip? 3k? 4k?” He taunted further, tsking in disapproval. “Can’t trust anyone these days”

“Please, I needed the money--”

Jason shot two bullets in his head. “Don’t care”

He turned on his heels and grabbed the bags again, bringing you along as gently as he could. You went outside, but he gestured for you to wait at a good distance from the car. He went over and inspected it, taking two devices off from two different places. Bombs, you figured. He threw the first one through the windows of the reception, then the other, he shot while in the air. An explosion went off, shaking your stance on the ground as the motel’s central area went up in flames.

“Oops, gas leak” He said blandly. “Come on, let’s get out of here”

You climbed in the passenger seat, clutching your now all dusted up bag for support. You needed to hold onto something while you came to terms with the repeated attempts on your life in the last fifteen minutes. Jason drove off, leaving the smoking building off to burn.

“Sorry you had to see that back in the lobby” He spoke when you were far enough.

“It’s fine” You shook your head. “He deserved it”

He blinked, a tiny bit stunned. “Hey are you okay?”

“Should I not be?” It came out weaker than intended. “I’m way in over my head with this”

“No, no, you did the right thing” He tried to reassure you, or that’s what you thought he was trying to do. Either way, it went right over your mental downward spiralling.

“I should have stayed in my lane” You kept mumbling, flexing your fingers on your bag. “I’d still be doing my thing, away from literal murder attempts in crappy motel rooms”

“Hey hey hey” He lifted a hand up. “May I remind you that you’d be married to Vitto fucking Maroni right now if you didn’t go rogue? That thought alone should give you relief”

You let out an uncontrolled laugh. What has your life become?

“Truth is I don’t know what I’m doing” You admitted, your voice cracking. “All I’ve achieved it to piss everyone off”

“Yeah you did piss everyone off, but so do I on a daily basis” He replied, making your frown in confusion. “Sometimes pissing everyone else is the only way to get things going, y’know?”

You blinked a couple of times. “I literally don’t”

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it immediately. He then took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “All I’m saying is, doing the right thing is an ugly job. It’s hard and messy and fucks with you, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try and do it anyway. I know this is all new for you, and this is a rather harsh welcome party, but you gotta fight through it”

You nodded, casting your eyes on him at last. His skin was reddened by the drying blood on his face and hair, and his clothes were dirty and torn. Amidst the cooling blood, you noticed a steady flow of brighter red coming off a hole in the sleeve of his t-shirt, widening the already big stain around it.

“You’re bleeding”

He looked down at his side, unfazed. “Oh right, a bullet got me on the initial wave”

“We need to get it out and close the wound” Your eyes found his for a brief second, before his glance returned to the road.

“It can wait” He downplayed it, probably by a force of habit.

“It looks like it’s bleeding a lot” You insisted.

“I’ll be fine--”

“It’s my fault you’re hurt” You interrupted him. You felt like you had at least to do something for him, especially since he just saved your life twice. Besides, you needed to focus on something else than what had just gone down. “Let me help”

He took a deep breath, then gave a little nod. He pulled over at the next gas station and parked the car, then went to his trunk, picking his first aid kit while you went to ask for the bathroom key. You joined him at the car and went to find the bathroom in the back of the building, locking the door behind you for privacy. You stood beside him as he rummaged through it, handing you a pair of pliers and disinfecting gauzes. You waited for him to take off his jacket, laying your supplies on the counter, then carefully rolled the sleeve of his t-shirt. You grabbed a clean gauze to stop the bleeding, gently pressing on the wound.

“Have you done this before?”

You didn’t see his question come, but you answered nonetheless. “Yes, a few times” You said. “On my older brothers. That’s something we learn, just in case we are the ones to patch up our husbands”

“Is this really how you were treated?” He asked, his voice surprisingly soft compared to what you had gotten so far. “Like a service wife in training?”

“Pretty much” You nodded with a weak scoff. You carefully checked the wound, and the bleeding had almost stopped. You grabbed the alcohol gauze and tore the pack open. “There isn’t much choice but to obey”

He didn’t even flinch when you cleaned the wound. “When I pulled the gun on you the first day we met, you said it wasn’t the first time somebody did that to you” He began, recalling the events from ten days ago. “What happened the other times?”

You put the bloodied gauzes aside and grabbed the pliers, disinfecting them with a smaller alcohol wipe before going for the bullet. “Would you believe me if I said something along the lines of wildly opposing my union to the Maroni family?”

His lips curled up slightly, but his teeth were clenched as you tried to grab the bullet well lodged in his flesh. You managed to get a good grip on it and slowly pulled it out. You immediately covered the wound again with clean gauze and dropped the bullet in the trash pile.

“Bullet’s intact, you should be fine” You said, holding the gauze with one hand and searching for a needle and a stitching thread with the other.

“How old were you when it happened?”

You paused, staring at his arm. How old were you back then, when your father announced you’d be part of a two-way deal with the Maroni family? Not very old, that was for sure. You pulled the gauze away and sanitized the needle, then passed the thread in the loop. “17, I think”

“You were just a child” It came out more like a statement than a question. You shrugged before beginning the stitches. He still wasn’t flinching as the needle came in and out of his skin,making it easier for you to do a clean job. You finally tied the thread and cut it with the scissors he handed you.

“I’m sorry I pulled you into this mess” You apologized as you wrapped the wound with yet some other clean gauze and bandaged it. “I… I didn’t plan this through at all. I felt the doors close on me and I acted without even thinking of the real consequences. I thought I would be strong enough to go with it, turns out I’m not”

You had been all bark and no bite, you could see that now. You came in strong, acting like nothing could get to you, like the threat was just an imaginary bound to keep you in place. You made a bold move to cross it, and now you could clearly see how dangerous the waters you were threading in actually were. It wasn’t child’s play anymore, it was real, and you caved under the pressure on your first real trial.

He turned around as he pulled his sleeve down, facing you. He was in your space, but it didn’t feel like all the other times. His presence wasn’t threatening. “You don't have to apologize” There was something genuine in his eyes. “And to pull off what you did needs strength, even if you don’t realize it yet. Your reaction to almost being killed doesn’t change that fact”

“It certainly doesn’t feel that way”

“Trust me, princess” His little teasing smile returned. “Someone who can hold her own against me like you did is not weak”

“I was just mean” You blinked in surprise, letting out a small chuckle. “I think that’s different”

“See, still arguing” His smile widened. You had known him for ten days, but you had gotten used to him being a certain way. This light and sincere attitude he had now was, to say the least, unusual for you. When he wasn’t constantly sneering, you noticed his features better. His blue eyes carried a kind spark, the type you found in a natural caretaker. The harsh angles of his jaw and cheekbones shaped a handsome face, decorated by little silver scars blending with his freckles. He was like a fallen angel shining through a broken halo, dangerous and protective, but only if you took the time to look past the burned wings. The unflattering white light of the bathroom made him look worn out, but it didn’t change anything to the raw beauty of his face. His bloody knuckles came in soft contact with your cheek, like a feather gliding on a cloud in the sky. His eyes never left yours, and even if they did, you felt like you’d follow them whichever direction they went.

He was tall, considerably so. He hovered over you like a safety blanket, your own shield from the dangers stalking you outside the door. At that moment, you had trouble understanding how his proximity had once filled you with so much unease you felt like hiding away, because all you could feel now was an all consuming calm. There was however a pulse that was alive, one that was begging you to get closer. He seemed to have felt it too; his movement was slow, letting you more than enough time to back off. As his lips slowly got closer to yours, you know you didn’t want to move away. You filled the distance separating you from him and met him there in a gentle kiss to test the water first.

It didn’t take long for you to lose control. All the emotion of the last days that had bottled up were let to run wild in between you two like an electric current, surrendering your every sense to him. Your hands went to the back of his neck for support, because god knew you needed it. His arms sneaked behind your back as he pushed further into you, quickening the pace of the kiss and clouding your mind. Tongues battled in a war that was already won, knowing in one way or another he’d be the victor. You could feel all the tension, all the frustration, all the anger and all the guilt coming in strong before burning like dry wood in a bonfire. Were there any versions of this that didn’t end where you were? It seemed impossible.

You didn’t want to open your eyes just yet when he pulled away, reluctant to even let go. He captured your lips in a couple of kisses before fully letting you catch your breath.

“Well” His voice was barely over a whisper over the panting. “That might be one way to settle an argument”

“Then I might pick more arguments” Your lips lifted in a small grin.

“And I might not object to that” His eyes were bright with amusement. “Besides, I might have gotten around to like that smart mouth of yours”

“Oh, have you now?”

“Might” He corrected.

“Sure” For the first time in what felt like forever, you actually smiled. You slowly retracted your arms from his neck, letting him stand straight again.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and put as much distance as we can from this motel” He said, but it lacked the patronizing tone it once contained. It was even like he didn’t actually want to leave just yet, but had to, or both of your safety. You shared the sentiment.

You packed the first aid kit and burned the bloody gauzes in the sink, then killed the fire and returned the key to the counter. You drove away shortly after, confident things might just be alright this time.

Day 16

You had circled back to the first place you had stayed in, the little cabin so far in the woods you were almost sure nobody would find you, or at least not yet.

Jason had told you he had installed security devices on the dirt road to make sure he was aware of anybody driving up, as well as the traps he had set in the woods. Once again, it reinforced your idea that his job experience might not have been a traditional one. You frankly didn’t mind, as you were in no position to judge a potential criminal past. Besides, you believed anything he did couldn’t be worse than what your family or the Maronis did on a daily basis.

You had woken up when the sun was already high in the sky, and to your surprise Jason had still been there, on his back and staring at the ceiling. When you had turned around on your side, he had mimicked you to come face to face with you, not talking at all. His wound on his arm had stopped bleeding during the night, for which you were thankful for. It eased your guilt to see it was healing well. You had stayed there for what seemed like hours, but it was comfortable.

“I meant to ask,” He began, his voice soft and husky from the morning. “Why did you go to Bruce with the leak?”

You blinked slowly, tilting your head slightly to the side. “Well, I couldn’t go to the police, it was out of the question. I couldn’t trust any of them to pursuit this case”

“But what made you trust Bruce in particular?”

“I… I like to listen when people talk. Before, it gave me the impression I was part of the family business and not just an accessory, and that way I got to hear bits and parts of the discussions conducted behind closed doors” You began. “More times than not I would hear how Wayne Enterprises projects got in the way of their plans, and how Bruce Wayne would always do something to undermine them legally. So after I stole the intel, there was really one way I was certain would yield results, one person I was certain would have all the interests in the world to see this trial happen”

“That’s…” He trailed off, an impressed expression on his face. “That’s surprisingly smart”

“Surprisingly?” You raised an eyebrow.

“For someone who had no idea how to use a can opener, that is”

You slapped his chest as he let out a laugh; he was so proud of his joke. “Hey, I learned!”

“I know, I know” He chuckled, reaching his hand and brushing a rogue hair strand away from your face. You had noticed as the days passed that he seemed to favor the little touches and the unspoken rather than obvious and obnoxious displays. You knew he was more of the quiet type when he wasn’t arguing with you, always working in his corner and doing his stuff. It hadn’t really changed ever since the gas station moment, but this time he would steal little glances, brush his hand against yours when he’d change gears in the car, or make sure he took out a bowl for you as well when you made your canned soup. “You adapted better than I thought you would, considering the entire lifestyle change you had to go through in the last two weeks”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” You grinned.

“Nope, not at all, princess” He pushed himself on his elbows and leaned down to kiss you. You smiled onto his lips, welcoming the slow movements of him against you. However, you gently pushed him back after a moment, knowing if he had it his way, you’d stay there for hours.

“Jason” You said his name when he was visibly trying to distract you again with butterfly kisses on your jaw, only pausing to give you wide, innocent eyes. Insufferable. “I have to go take a shower”

“I’ll come with” He shrugged.

“What?”

“Yeah” He nodded. “Listen. You hired me to protect you, so that’s what I’m going to do”

“From what?” You laughed at his serious tone.

“Water’s cold”

“So NOW you want to protect me from the cold water?” You raised an eyebrow. “That surely wasn’t the discourse you held two weeks ago”

“People change, princess” He sighed exaggeratedly before getting up and walking to your side of the bed. “Come on, you said it yourself, you’ve got a shower to take”

You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless accepted the hand he held out for you. You went to the bathroom and undressed, then managed to get into the relatively small shower, your back to Jason. He was so tall he actually shielded you from the water from the showerhead when he turned the shower on, getting all the burning cold on his back instead.

“See?” He chuckled. “No cold water”

“But how will I wash myself if the water doesn’t get to me?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder. He stared blankly at you, like he didn’t think of that.

“Let me worry about it” He dismissed, making you laugh.

“Alright, alright”

He began slowly rubbing your skin with his wet hands, spreading water indirectly. His fingertips were still cold, but you knew for a fact it was slightly better than the direct flow from the tap. Goosebumps erupted all over your arms and back, both from the sudden change of temperature and his touch. You closed your eyes, enjoying the contrast in between the water and his still warm chest. He wet your hair, combing it with his hands, before he put the shampoo in and made it lather. Immediately, you recognized the smell.

“Is this your shampoo?” You asked, your eyes opening.

“Mhh”

“I thought you didn’t like when people used your stuff”

“Technically, I’m using it”

“Still!” You replied. “You practically threatened me last time I dared wear your shampoo”

“Truth is” He leaned in, his lips almost pressed against your ear. “It kinda drove me hog fucking wild to have you prancing around smelling like me”

Your eyes widened and the back of your neck heated enough for you to warm the water dripping down your back. You gulped, unable to answer that as it came as a shock for you that you have had another effect on him aside from pissing him off. He chuckled at your lack of comeback, his hot breath fanning your jaw. He slowly rinsed the soap out of your hair, then began washing your skin. His hands massaged your muscles as they went, making you sigh in contentment. At this point, you had backed so much into him you were just as much subject to the direct contact of the water as him, but you didn’t care.

He trailed small kisses from behind your ears down to your shoulder before pausing there, as if he was hesitant. He lifted his head slightly, and you could see his stare right on you from your peripheral vision.

“I need to tell you something”

You were surprised by the sudden seriousness of his words, but you tilted your head to show him you were listening.

“I’m the Red Hood”

You blinked slowly, registering his words. Well, that certainly explained things. You even wondered how you didn’t see it sooner, but now that he mentioned it, it had been rather obvious. “... Congratulations?”

You could feel he wasn’t expecting this reaction. “That’s… That’s all?” He stuttered. “You’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You turned your head to look at him properly. “You saved my life so many times, I am not about to complain how you did it”

“But I did a lot of bad too,” He argued. “Some things that might change your opinion”

“You’re seriously asking me, who comes from a crime family, if I’m okay with you doing crimes?” You deadpanned. His face changed, as if he was reevaluating his entire argument.

“When you put it like this…” He trailed off, nodding. You could however see the relief in his eyes at your acceptance of his double identity. Especially with the kind of job he was doing here with you, you could only imagine how blurred the line in between the two personas must have been at times.

“Why did you tell me?” It was a gentle question, full of wonder as to what pushed him to reveal to you such an important, personal detail about himself. Your hand sneaked up and covered his still on your forearm.

“I thought you should know” He muttered back, his voice barely rising over the noise of the water hitting the shower’s floor. “You never asked what I did before, or how I took care of seven hired guns at the motel. I wasn’t sure if you just avoided it, or…”

“Don’t worry” You interrupted him softly. “Moral compasses are no issues with me”

His lips reached yours under a freezing rain, your bodies numb to anything but each other.

Day 25

A few days ago Jason received a call from Bruce.

The arrests had been made and the trial date had been set. As you had predicted, they tried to keep the relative information about it under wraps so you wouldn’t be aware it was happening. But fortunately, with Bruce’s quiet oversight of the process, he had managed to relay the details on time. You hadn’t been very far from Gotham when the news dropped, but you were still thankful for the heads up. It had given you time to plan your safe return into the boundaries of the city, staying hidden in another one of Jason’s safehouses until the day came for you to be a witness in the trial.

It was now in progress, it had just started some minutes ago. You were staying in an adjacent room that was guarded by people under Bruce’s paycheck, with Jason laying on a couch behind you, looking at his phone while you were getting ready. You were thankful that you had brought a second designer outfit with you, because you weren’t sure your gray t-shirt from Target with the oversized men’s pants you inherited on your first day with Jason would have looked very professional or credible. You did your makeup carefully with the basic products you had, then took a look at yourself in the mirror. You smothered the creases in your blouse and made sure the belt wasn’t twisted in the loops of your slacks, and sighed.

Jason stood up from the couch and walked to you, stopping behind you and sneaking an arm around your waist. He snuggled his nose in the crook of your neck and placed a small kiss there. “Am I an asshole for thinking you look better in a 30 bucks outfit?”

You laughed despite your nervous state. He was trying to distract you and you welcomed it. “Not more than usual, no”

He gasped at your rebuttal, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. “Is that what you really think of me?” He asked. “I’m hurt”

“Aw, come here” You pouted, turning your chin over your shoulder. You raised your arm to rest your hand on his cheek and gently pulled him down into a kiss. Your eyes fluttered close when his lips met yours, letting your relish in his comforting presence. You felt your heartbeat slow down as you sighed against his lips, wishing to remain there with him for another hour or so. Alas, the moment was broken shortly after when the door opened.

“They will soon be--oh”

You pulled back from the kiss, but Jason didn’t move away at the sound of Bruce’s voice behind you. You could feel he was annoyed at his adoptive father ruining the mood, but at least he wasn’t pissed like you had seen he could be on day one. That in itself was a relief.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all” Jason replied in a clearly sarcastic tone. You stifled back a laugh at the grimace he was doing to mock Bruce. “Perfect timing as usual”

Bruce didn’t answer that. He only closed the door behind him and headed for the desk, leaning back on it. Jason followed his movements in the mirror like a hawk.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you aren’t at each other’s throat anymore” He began, a cryptic smile on his lips. “But I hadn’t expected… Whatever this is”

It was Jason’s turn to sigh as he reluctantly parted away from you. He didn’t go far, however. He stayed by your side like another threat on your life could pop up at any moment. “Shocker”

“As I was saying” Bruce reprised, ignoring Jason’s side comment. “They will call you to the stand soon. I just wanted to check up on you and see if you had any questions or concerns before you go out”

“How solid is the case built?” You asked.

“It should hold” He nodded. “From what I’ve seen, it’s solid in front of a jury. Your testimony will have to be conclusive if we want to catch some Maroni members in the lot, but I’m confident you’ll be stellar”

You gave him a small smile. You knew your father would be there, glaring at you like you were the devil itself, but you repeated to yourself you could go through this. There was no way he would be as intimidating as Jason in the first few days, and you came out on the other side unscathered. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, and soon he would reap what he sowed.

“How secure will the witness booth be?” It was Jason who spoke this time, his eyes straight on Bruce like he was challenging him to give an answer that wouldn’t be good enough.

“The two guards in front of this room will accompany her in the courtroom” Bruce replied calmly. “There will also be one more guarding the door, and I supposed you won’t be far as well”

He only hummed in answer, but he seemed satisfied with this plan. Bruce checked his watch and stood up, hands in his pocket.

“It’s time”

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath. You exited the room with Jason at your side and the guards behind you. You walked down a few hallways before you stopped in front of the witness booth door. You forced yourself to take deep breaths and visualize the end result. You could do this, you could do this.

“Keep your head high, stay confident” Jason muttered in your ear as the door opened in front of you. “You got this, princess”

With his last words of encouragement, you were brought into the courtroom.

Day 101

“... The sentence of the twelve convicted has dropped this morning on the order of judge Monroe, a little less than three months after the devastating trial that landed a blow on organized crime in Gotham. The twelve men will each serve a sentence ranging from twenty to forty years in a maximum security facility, on counts of attempted murders, first degree homicide, money laundering, drug trafficking and tax fraud. Amongst the convicted is Vitto Maroni, a notable figure in Gotham’s public life…”

You jumped when a loud pop dragged your attention away from the TV.

Jason was standing there with a proud grin, pouring foaming sparkling grape juice in two champagne flutes. You laughed as he handed you one, plopping next to you on the couch and clinking his glass on yours.

“Cheers to a victory,” He declared. “that wouldn’t have been possible without you”

“Don’t flatter me too much, give yourself some credit” You matched his grin. “You’re at least 20% responsible for this”

“Ah yes, my 20% contribution” He nodded thoughtfully. “Eighteen percent bullets shot, two percent bullets received I recall”

You laughed with him, drinking the fizzy beverage. He lifted his arm, and you crawled under it to snuggle on his side, careful not to spill anything. It had become a habit for you to end up one way or another in his arms, even after the trial ended. He had offered you to move in with him shortly after, when you had tried to give him the ten thousand dollars you had promised him after the trial. Not only had he refused to even look at it, but he gave you back the 5k you had already given him beforehand. He had insisted for you to keep it and invest in whatever you wanted to turn your life around like you wished.

He had been excited for you when you announced you would enroll in law school, saying your argumentative side would definitely come handy as an attorney.

“I’m proud of you”

You looked up at him to see a fond glint in his eyes, one that made your heart melt. For all of his rough edges, he was certainly very soft inside. All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, and you couldn’t ask for someone better to start your new life with. You snuggled further into him as he kissed the top of your head and tightened his arm around you.

“Thank you for being there for me” You mumbled through his clothes. “It means a lot”

“I couldn’t walk away from you even if I wanted to, princess” He smiled against your hair. “You are so stuck with me”

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere, then”

You changed the channel to a movie and spent the rest of the night cuddling on the couch, you wearing his t-shirt and shampoo and him holding you like a treasure.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #jason todd x you #jason todd #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #red hood x you #outlaws

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cherries-blooming · 3 years

Text

BAILEY X CHUB!FEM! READER (Biker Goddess)

You've spent most of your day outside your university, trying to write an essay on the best experience you've ever had. You gently tap the end of the eraser on your bottom lip as you think of what that could possibly be. Sure, you've been to weddings and family reunions but nothing really struck out to you as 'the best'. Sighing as you pack up for the day, you look over to the sign of your university; "Rosenburg, home of the arts". "If being an artist means back to back pain and artblock then sure, I'm home alright." You mutter to yourself. Maybe a nice calming cup of decaf from the local coffee shop will give you some inspiration. You check your phone as you walk onto the sidewalk, 7:40 pm, if you wanted coffee then you'd best hurry. Placing your phone in your hoodies pocket, you start your walk down town.

You weren't really paying attention to your surroundings, more or less spacing out as the sunset casts a large shadow besides yourself. There's a song stuck in your head, you hum along to it, blissfully disconnecting from the world around yourself. By the time you arrive at your favorite coffee shop, you barely get to sneak by the last customer and order yourself a cup. The cashier gives you a lackadaisical stare past their boxy glasses before going to make you your drink. "Thank you- and- sorry." You say, waving a hand as you stand by the pick up area to wait for it. The song playing on some hidden radio lulls you to glance around the room, your eyes land on a corkboard with some pictures on it. One of them being a group of girls. You take a closer look and the words 'Cherry Bombs' is written on it. A friend group of some sort? They look very happy, the one in the middle catches your attention. She's taller than the others and has a gleaming smile on her face. Stunning. "Ma'am-." The cashier's voice grabs your attention, "-your drink is ready."

"Yes! Thank you. I'll get out of your hair now." You say in a soft tone, gently grabbing the cup out of their hands. There was a moment of silence as you grabbed and pocketed a few sugar packets and a stirrer "Uh ma'am-! I don't think it's safe to go out alone..." the now nervous looking cashier calls out to you, earning a raised brow from you. "Huh? Why, is something wrong?" They shift around a bit, tapping their fingers on the counter, "Well, it's rumored that young women are being targeted by a group of guys.... Call themselves the 'Lady Killers'. S'like something right out of a cheesy 90's horror film but I wouldn't risk it." They look pretty serious about that. You weigh your options before shrugging a bit, "I'll be okay, I mean, no one's really out here LOOKING for a chubby girl like me to try 'n snatch, haha." You joke as you push past the front doors and onto the dimly lit sidewalk. You check your phone, it's 9:30 now.

It's about an hour or so walk back to your campus at the university, and you weren't about to let some rumors deter you from finally getting home and putting the essay paper off for later. You've traveled a few blocks down with no issue at all, though, you're extra cautious about the shadows that catches your peripheral. You deicide to calm your nerves by looking at the pictures you took on your phone of a lovely small pompom dog you saw on a trip with family somewhere. It started to work... For awhile. But it only took a moment before you could hear it, a distant sound of a car in the distance. It was getting closer. You slowly move the coffee away from your lips as you look towards the noise. Suddenly, your body ran cold as it started to head toward you. You run off, trying to make some distance between you and this jackass trying to run you over.

You dip into an alleyway, hoping it was a shortcut to a nicely lit neighborhood, praying that someone there could help you. You can hear the sound of car wheels skirting to a halt behind you. You shake your head, it's better not to look back. You run into something, something hard. A wall. Your blood runs cold as you stumble backwards to catch yourself. No... No! You have so much you haven't done yet in life! You can't possibly be the victim to something as stupid sounding as the 'Lady Killers'!. You haven't even finished that stupid essay yet! The car door shuts as heavy footsteps come closer to you, the sounds of muffled chuckles could be heard as you slowly turn to see three men. One of them was quiet tall and lanky with purple straight hair. The other was shorter but bulkier, a spiked mohawk on his. And lastly, a guy around the height of a shack, he was beefier than the other two and had a bald head. How classic. Were you really dealing with some reject TMNT villains right now?

"Hey, don'cha know little piglets like you gotta get home before the farmer comes in?" The purple haired one said, a crooked smirk on his face as he stepped closer. Slowly reaching for your hoodie pocket, hoping maybe you could 'accidentally' dial 911. "Hey! Does the little piggy speak? You look like you got sum nice bacon, hm?" The man spoke again, he was a foot away from you now. He smelled like cigarette smoke and old fruit. Mind racing, thinking of something you could say to get them to back off, your heart was the only thing you could hear now. As he closed the distance between you, you start thinking about how boring your life was, and how much you felt horrible for letting it be that way. You clenched your hands into a fists, stopping once you felt the hot cup still in your hands. You get a spark of confidence. "Well- How would you like some hot beans to the face!" You open the lid and chuck the cup at his head. It lands, the hot bean juice leaving him red where it had landed. He yells, waddling back a bit as he tried to wipe away the hotness from his face. His two lackies chuckle a bit, stopping when their boss shoots them a dirty glare. "You're gonna regret that." He growled, stomping his way back to you. But before he could even lay a hand on you, the roaring sound of motorcycles came into earshot. The three looked at each other then to the entrance of the alleyway. You lifted up your gaze, the blaring lights of the motorcycles blinded you as you tried to make out your saviors. Well... You hoped that's who they were.

"Hey Lady Killers!" A raspy and excitable voice said, "I suggest you leave that poor chick alone, or else!" the one closest to you scoffed and walked over to the voice. "Oh yeah? And whaddya gonna do! You're just some flashy bimbo onna bike!" You slowly pull yourself away from the wall to get a better look. The bike turned off and from it stood a giant, curly haired, goddess of a woman. She took off her helmet and you could've sworn your heart skipped three beats.

She had baby blue eyes, sharp features, a scar over the eye that wasn't hidden by her hair, and a smirk on her face. Raising and pointing to the three men, she spoke, "You're gonna regret fucking around with the Cherry Bombs, boys!" the next few minutes were like a movie, you couldn't look away, you were too enraptured by the golden goddess and her gang of 6 other girls beating the men to a pulp. Before long, the woman was throwing the head honcho back into his car with a slam, the other guys scurrying in after, beaten and missing a few teeth. They made a speedy escape into the cold night, honking their car horn as they did. You blinked, taking a moment to process things.

"Hey, babes, you aight?" The woman spoke again, she was walking towards you, as she did you started to notice just how big she was. Maybe 6- no- 7 feet tall, exposed arms covered in muscles and an eyefull of... Chest. Needless to say, you were at a loss for words. Your face became hot as you looked up at hers. She had a gentle expression on, offering a hand to you. You looked down at it, ignoring the little bit of blood from the Lady Killers that was sprawled onto her fingertips and knuckles. You held it, surprisingly soft, you noted. She walked you out of the alleyway, the other members were speaking amoungst themselves, they were all stunning as well. Damn- how'd you get so lucky to fall into the hands of gods most powerful and prettiest women?

"Where you live? Me and the girls will ensure you get back there safely" The mysterious woman asked, still holding onto your trembling hand. "Ah- oh! I uh- I live on campus at the.... University not too far from here. I'm uh... Writing major." You stammered, nice going you. She nodded, a toothy grin on her face. You two walked over to her motorcycle, letting go of your hand to pick up something, a helmet. She placed it carefully onto your head before putting on her own, "Just tell me the address and I'll get you there, trust me." you didn't have to be told twice. You trust with woman with your whole life, your future, hell even with your KIDS. You gave a gentle nod, earning you her toothy show stopping grin. She mounted her bike and rounded up her girls before patting the seat behind herself, "Hop on!"

The drive was a lot shorter than you were hoping, you wanted to have your arms wrapped around the goddess before you forever, but alas, you were home now. Your roomate, who was standing outside of the campus, came running over and nearly fainted when she saw that you were safe and sound. You got off the bike and returned the helmet, giving the driver one last longing look before rushing over to stable your fainting friend. "You had me scared! You weren't answering my texts all day and now you come home with a bunch of mysterious bike ladies!?" You try to calm her down and explain that there was a bit of a holdup with... Everything. You took a moment to realize that the trip for coffee was kind of a lost cause, considering you only took a few sips.

After she calmed down, your friend walked back into your shared room, leaving you some alone time with the gang. You turned and looked back at the female equivalent of Hercules before you. She still had a smile on her face as she watched you get closer. "You uh-... You never told me your name." You said shyly, trying not to mess around with your fingers as you avoided staring right at her tattoo. "Oh- I knew I forgot something! Hehe. I always do this." Sliding off her bike and closer to you, she handed you a little note before saying, "Bailey, I'm Bailey Faxton." you slowly took the note and unfolded it. On it was a scrawled out string of numbers... Her phone number! You look back up to say something but she's already mounted her bike and placed her helmet on.

"Call me when you're in need of a hero, okay babe?" Her words danced on your ears as she and her gang, The Cherry Bombs, rolled out of your campus and into the dark. The cool 10 PM night air swam its way through your hoodie, shaking you out of your thoughts. You turned to walk up to the campus, making it halfway up the stairs before stopping to look back at the road again.

"...I think I know what that essay is going to be about."

#Bailey Faxton #bailey faxton fanfic #fanfic #oc x reader fanfic #x reader #POV #lesbian fanfic #Biker Goddess ; 1

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bumblesimagines · 5 years

Text

Lie

Request: Yes or No

I heard you told your friends that I'm just not your type

If that's how you really feel, then why'd you call last night?

You say all I ever do is just control your life

But how you gonna lie like that, how you gonna lie like that?

"Yeah, nah, man. (Y/N) is dope, but he's just not my type, ya know? I think I was just.. Experimenting with what I like." Chuck explained to his friends. (Y/N) played with his lighter, flickering it on and off as an amused smile tugged at his lips. He pretended not to listen, headphones in but music low.

"I hope we can stay friends cause he's the chillest guy I know." He finally brought the lighter up to his cigarette, lighting it and flicking it off.

"He was kind of.. Controlling in a way? Not possessive or toxic. You know how chicks get when they think you're cheating? Like that." (Y/N) almost snorted but held it back. He pulled the cigarette away from his lips and stood up from the bench, passing by the guys without a glance.

Yeah, I heard you said I ain't the type for you

I don't regret it though, I learned from it

They should have you locked up for all the time you stole from us (Woo)

Took you out when I had no money

Only person that you ever cared about was you, that's why it's so funny

(Y/N) didn't have much of reaction when news spread of his and Chuck's breakup. He found it a bit amusing. Chuck tried to make people feel bad for him but at the same time make (Y/N) look good as well. Maybe from guilt or to keep (Y/N) as a just in case. He knew there was good inside of Chuck but he didn't expect much from the relationship. He tried to make it work but you can only try so much before giving up. The only thing (Y/N) really regretted was the time wasted on an empty relationship.

You want somebody that'll keep you warm at night

Then, tell me, why you actin' cold to me?

You ain't the only one to blame, no, I'm the one that made you rich

When I bought every lie you sold to me

Yeah, heard you threw away the pictures

But you still got the memories of us

So I guess I don't really make a difference

After the playbook, nobody really wanted to be friends with Chuck. So, when (Y/N) showed slight interest, Chuck pounced at it. Though, it seemed to have been a waste of time since he deleted all their pictures off social media. (Y/N) knew there was a romance, a spark, between Josie and Chuck. But Chuck assured (Y/N) that they were just friends. (Y/N) tried to believe him but at the end, he knew it was a lie.

Flippin' through 'em in your head

Got you texting me all hours of the night

Yeah, you told me that you needed distance

What's the deal with you?

You say you want a man that keeps it real

Then why you mad when I get real with you?

You want someone to pay the bills for you

Went from feelin' you, now I feel for you, liar

(Y/N) had to put his phone on mute thanks to Chuck. If he didn't, he'd be up all night hearing the nofications from Chuck and his texts. Crazy how Chuck wanted distance yet he was the one trying to stay close. (Y/N) had started to like Chuck, mostly going out with him out of pity, but that changed a few months into the relationship. People had started warming up to him again and (Y/N) quickly realized that he was just a tool to get on everyone's good side again. It was annoying.

I heard you told your friends that I'm just not your type

If that's how you really feel, then why'd you call last night?

You say all I ever do is just control your life

But how you gonna lie like that, how you gonna lie like that?

"Hey, (N/N), how's everything going?" Betty asked, nimbling on her bottom lip as she watched him. He furrowed his brows.

"Good, why wouldn't it be?" He questioned.

"Because of the breakup?" It was Betty's turn to be confused. (Y/N) blinked and nodded.

"Oh, right, yeah." He nodded, giving a sheepish smile. "I've got a lot on my mind. I'm actually sketching out a new idea." Betty smiled.

"Really? That's good. At least you've got your mind off Chuck."

"I've been through breakups before, Elle Woods. Chuck is the last thing on my mind, but thanks for worrying. Honestly... He's not really my type."

Look, let me guess, you want to stay friends?

Tellin' people that's how we been?

Tellin' everybody, yeah, that we was barely speakin'

Ah, that's kinda funny, why'd you call me every day then?

It's immaturity, you goin' off the deep end

"I'm glad you and Chuck are still friends."

"Friends?" (Y/N) repeated Ginger's words. "We don't talk. At all." That was kind of a lie. Chuck called and texted everyday but (Y/N) barely replied. (Y/N) shook his head, sighing. He spotted the jock and sent him a text, straying away from his friends. Chuck jogged over, flashing his charming smile.

"What's up?"

"First of all, can you not blow up my phone? Second of all, quit lying. We don't talk and we aren't friends." Chuck frowned at his words.

"What are we?"

"Acquaintances? Exes? Strangers? Take your pick but this isn't friendship." (Y/N) rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

You just want somebody you can chill and get some drinks with, cool

Then don't hit me on the weekend

Tellin' me you missed the way we talked and how I listen, yeah

Why you playin' with my mind, huh?

Why you playin' with my time, huh?

"Listen, (N/N), why don't we talk about this at Pop's? Like we used to. I wanna be friends with you again."

"No, Chuck. I'm tired of.. Of you." (Y/N) confessed. "You got brownie points from everyone, congrats, but can you leave me alone now? I know I sound like a dick but you're wasting my time. Either be my ex or be a stranger, I don't care which. Go find Josie or Moose to keep you company."

"No, baby-" (Y/N) rolled his eyes again at the pet name. "We aren't together anymore, you can stop pretending to like me, Chuck."

Told me, "We should let it go and put it all behind us"

That's what I did, now you askin' me what I done, I was

Waitin' for this day, I saw it comin'

I think you just like attention, tryna tell me all your problems

I got issues of my own, I ain't got time for all this drama

You told me that you don't really wanna talk—then why you callin', huh?

"Let's put the past behind us-"

"I did but it seems like you can't." (Y/N) took out his cigarette pack, glancing at a disapproving Chuck.

"I'm just trying to fit in again, (N/N). I haven't figured out what I want in school yet." Chuck watched as (Y/N) raised the rolled up blunt to his lips.

"You have problems, I have problems, we should just fix them on our own with different people, Chuck." (Y/N) said, glad school had been long over or else he would've definitely been caught and suspended.

"Fine, if you don't wanna talk, we won't talk."

"Good, don't call or text me about anything other than school, aight?" (Y/N) spun around on his heel and went back to Ginger and Tina.

I heard you told your friends that I'm just not your type

If that's how you really feel, then why'd you call last night?

You say all I ever do is just control your life

But how you gonna lie like that, how you gonna lie like that?

(Y/N) grinned, shaking the spray can as he stared up at his finished masterpiece. He was glad Keller let him do art around the town as long as it wasn't offensive. (Y/N) took out a cigarette and lighter, trying to light it but he had run out of fuel. He huffed and pouted until a muscular arm moved around him and lit the cigarette.

"Thanks." He mumbled, looking at the curly haired male.

"You did that?" He asked, taking a seat beside the older teen. (Y/N) nodded.

"It's dope, shit looks professional." (Y/N) chuckled, eyeing the man.

"Yeah, I got inspired by an 'ex', I guess." He looked back at the art on the wall.

"You go to that high school nearby, right?" The man questioned, motioning to the Riverdale sticker on his bag. (Y/N) nodded. The man hummed.

"I suppose that shithole has some talented kids, the rest are nosy fuckers."

"You've hit the nail on the head, my friend." (Y/N) grinned, tossing the spray can off to the side.

How you gonna lie, how you gonna lie like that?

Baby, how you gonna lie, how you gonna lie like that?

How you gonna lie, baby, how you gonna lie like that?

No, no, how you gonna lie like that?

"Back onto this 'ex' of yours, what's the story?"

"He got into a bit of trouble with the school, everyone hated him for a while so he got with me to earn brownie points and then broke up with me. He's an annoying little shit though." (Y/N) told him, shrugging lightly.

"Those types are the worst. Bring out the worst in you." The man said, leaning against the wall. (Y/N) looked at him, admiring his handsome features.

"You don't look like someone from the Northside. So, what brings you here?"

"Wanted to wreck havoc but got caught up with the artistic babe." He replied smoothly. (Y/N) smiled, shaking his head.

"You've got fuckboy written all over you." (Y/N) cooed, ignoring the buzzing of his phone. "Plus, I don't even know your name, sir."

I heard you told your friends that I'm just not your type

(Baby, how you gonna lie like that? No, no)

If that's how you really feel, then why'd you call last night?

(Tell me how you 'bout to lie like that)

You say all I ever do is just control your life

(No, no, no)

But how you gonna lie like that, how you gonna lie like that?

(Oh, yeah)

"Malachai, and yours?"

"(Y/N)." (Y/N) replied, taking out his phone and seeing the texts from chuck. He rolled his eyes, muting his contact before putting his phone away.

"Will I see you again, Malachai?" (Y/N) asked with a grin. Malachai nodded, eyes looking him over again.

"Definitely." He purred in return, sending him a wink before walking to his car.

Tell me how you 'bout to lie like that

Tell me how you 'bout to lie like—

Yeah, yeah, hey

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male!reader #riverdale x you #riverdale x reader #riverdale x male reader #riverdale x y/n #chuck clayton x y/n #chuck clayton x you #chuck clayton x male reader #chuck clayton x reader #chuck clayton #riverdale malachai x male reader #riverdale malachai x you #riverdale malachai x reader #malachai riverdale

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5lazarus · 4 years

Note

A random prompt for you: "It was a dark and stormy night"

I was at the party ranting about catabasis narratives, wine glass in hand, and somebody walked up to me and handed me a pomegranate. “Fuck you,” I said. But it did its job. I put down the wine glass, or handed it vaguely to someone, and headed to the kitchen. There I began abusing the pomegranate, to make it give up its secrets. “Nature’s treasure box,” I said happily. “Leave me to die in hell.”

Someone stirred: a man, washing his hands at the kitchen sink. I blinked. I was too drunk and not drunk enough to make small talk. “You okay?” he asked. I presented the pomegranate. “Ah, catabasis,” he said understandingly. “I’ll leave you to it.” A rush of love for humanity swept me as he left. The friend hosting the party was a recovered classicist and repentant Maoist. They had the most interesting friends. I took a handful of pomegranate seeds and stuffed them in my mouth. The juice ran red and a few missed my mouth, but still I chewed. Tangy-sweet: like all of life, all emotion is wrapped up in a mouthful of flavor. I knew that this didn't quite make sense but I was pleased with the wave of sentiment that swept me. “Catabasis,” I said, and wiped at my eyes. I surveyed the bloody juice staining the counter. “Iphigenia,” I pronounced, and left. Someone handed me a wad of clean toilet paper as I stumbled through the hallway towards another room; it clung to my hands. “Bruh, you’re super fucked up,” a kindly stranger said. “Drink this.” They pulled me into a circle, where a fervent discussion over the rights and wrongs of 1921 was being hashed out. “Iphigenia,” I added helpfully. “A sacrifice knowingly met.” I drank the water and passed the blunt and settled happily into the scene. Three members of the cadre sat around me. The kindly stranger had the classic bisexual haircut and the classic bisexual septum piercing, but was otherwise remarkable. They were the only one close to sober, and kept an eye on their phone. The others were arguing. One wore a moustache and goatee similar to Comrade Trotsky, and was dressed in all black--black t-shirt, black jeans, black Nikes. I wanted to ask where the rest of black bloc was, but only mumbles came out, which was good because the joke probably wouldn’t have gone over well. The other wore a green cap with a red star and was chewing the end of the blunt. “Tell me one example of an actually existing socialist government led by Trotskyists,” Red Star said. “Come on. I’ll wait.” “The USSR would not have survived World War Two without Trotsky heading up the Red Army,” Comrade said instead. Even I was aware this did not actually answer Red Star’s question. “You can say that any existing socialist government exists due to his contribution to the USSR--and with no thanks to fucking Stalin.” “Yooooooo,” I intoned. I was ignored. The Kindly Bisexual handed me a bowl of popcorn. I took a fistful and began to lap the popcorn up. They shifted away from me slightly. I really needed to sober up. “That doesn’t make any sense,” Red Star said. “So Trotsky made some military contributions--sure. We can’t deny that.” “Some?” Comrade said incredulously. “He fought a war on five fronts!” He put his hand in front of Red Star’s face. Clearly I was not the only one who needed to sober up. “One: the White Army. Two: the--” “Don’t you ever get tired of relitigating twentieth century debates?” Red Star asked. “And get your hand out of my fucking face.” “Comrades!” the Kindly Bisexual hurriedly interrupted. “Look, it’s raining!” We all turned to the window, and I smiled. I loved the rain, especially when I was crossfaded. Indeed, not only was it raining--it was pouring, beginning with a low rumble and rising into a lash against the glass. Lightning cracked suddenly across the sky, flashing us blue. Red Star jumped. “A dark and stormy night,” I exclaimed happily. I clasped my hands together joyously, crunching kernels between my palms. “Who even are you?” Comrade said. “Good fucking question,” I said. “I’m not sure.” I looked at the Kindly Bisexual, who I decided was responsible for my welfare tonight, because clearly they were the voice of reason in this room. “Let me ask my handler.” “Yo, what?” Red Star said. I giggled. “Nice try, FBI.” I made finger guns at them, pushed myself up to my feet unsteadily, and wandered off to the living room. The Catabasis Man was sitting on the couch, eating pomegranate seeds out of a bowl. A group of anonymous leftists sat at his feet, facing the television. They were watching The L Word. I slid next to him. “Out of the earth?” I asked. “I have been reborn,” he agreed. “You good?” “I don’t know who I am,” I said. “But the rain is a good sign.” “Right,” he said. “I think you should eat something.” He got up and headed towards the kitchen, leaving me morose. I wrapped my arms around my legs. “These are not my lesbians,” I said sadly. “Shut up,” said someone on the floor, so I did and walked off again, this time in search of more food. The pomegranates and the popcorn were sitting unsteadily in my stomach, and I needed a less buttery carb. I returned to the bedroom with the Kindly Bisexual and the twentieth-century Marxists. “Fuck you,” the Comrade was saying. “You think I’m a plant? This is clear revisionism.” “Yo,” the Kindly Bisexual said. “What?” Comrade pointed at Red Star. “This is clearly COINTELPRO tactics, with cheap talking points too. Try to sound a little less like an alt-right troll account, Comrade Stalin.” “I’m a Maoist,” Red Star snarled. Thunder rolled. I giggled nervously, and was ignored. “Fuck this shit, man! Stop this copjacketing bullshit.” Red Star turned to the Kindly Bisexual. “You see this shit? You see this shit? Callin’ me a plant? That’s cop shit.” “Uh,” the Kindly Bisexual said. “I think yall need to chill.” “Spiderman points at Spiderman,” I exclaimed happily. I could envision it so easily: just the Spiderman meme, but with one of them with a goatee photoshopped onto the mask, and the other wearing Mao’s red star. It was great. It was great to look at a real-life meme. Comrade crossed his arms. “I’m just saying, it’s not copjacketing when you’re actually a cop. How do we know you’re real? You probably got that hat off Amazon.” “There’s no ethical consumption under late capitalism,” Red Star growled. “Fuck off. You Trots are all the same. Trying to split the party--that’s the real reason why you crazies have never had a successful revolutionary front since 1917, you start the wild accusations and then there’s what! A cult of just two, handing out newspapers at Union Square. Then charging you a dollar when they shove it into your hand.” “Oof,” I said. “Yeah, yeah,” Comrade said. “How’s fundraising for the People’s War of Williamsburg going? I heard you got good turnout for your membership drive at the New School. Soon enough, you’ll have enough people to build yet another base in some swamp. And leave pig heads in front of libraries and some shit.” “We are not affiliated with Red Guard,” Red Star said testily. “And the pig head, well, things are different in Texas.” “Yeah yeah,” Comrade said. “We know all the pig heads were some cop shit. Like who else can end up that much of a parody of themselves?” “You grew the goatee on purpose?” Red Star asked. “Or just to fit in?” The Kindly Bisexual claimed their hands. “Right, okay. I think we’ve all demonstrated enough insider knowledge of the blessed disaster we call the US Left. No more calling each other cops, okay? Because yall are too fucked up, and when I told the SC that I’d be a community steward, this is not what I thought my first case would be.” I thought that sounded vaguely carceral, but at this point sobriety was creeping cold and clear, and kept my tongue fuzzily still. “Urgh,” I said instead. “Anyone got a cigarette?” We all went outside for a smoke. The rain stilled to a mild drizzle. Streetlights made the dirty pavements shine, and I scuffed my shoe against a patch of old gum that had probably been there since all these people moved to Brooklyn. The Kindly Bisexual had the cigarettes, but nobody else had a light, so I found an old lighter I had picked up the last time I was driving home to Tennessee, in a Waffle House outside Murfreesboro. I had forgotten it had a Confederate flag on it. “What the fuck,” the Kindly Bisexual said flatly. “No!” I protested. “Shit. No. I-I just, I’m from Tennessee. Stole it from some guy in a Waffle House.” I hadn’t, I had just swiped it from the counter after I paid, but they didn’t need to know that. “I ain’t--no. No.” “You’re faking that accent,” Comrade accused. Red Star nodded next to him. Was this truly how the New York Left would be united? I was vaguely proud of myself. “No, I just codeswitch around middle class leftists from the North,” I said, annoyed. Comrade made a considering face: fair point. “On account of yall think my accent means I’m stupid. But let me show you the truth. I stole this from a Waffle House, and now it shall be destroyed!” Everyone watched as I threw it on the pavement, hoping it would shatter. It bounced instead. Red Star started to laugh. “Nah, that’s just stupid. Smash it! Smash it!” I slammed my foot down and then howled, because I was wearing flipflops and that hurt. “Motherfucker!” I wept. “Shit.” “Aight, I’m gonna try,” Comrade said. He jumped on it and slipped on the slick pavement, busting his ass. We all howled with laughter, even the Kindly Bisexual, who wiped their eyes--carefully, so as not to smudge their eyeliner--before offering him a hand up. “We have to be strategic about this,” Red Star said. “Let’s use that tree branch.” She grabbed a sizeable bow that must have fallen in the storm. She wielded it, lamppost casting a mad glow to her eyes. “Solidarity, yall!” “Solidarity!” we all echoed. She smashed it down, and we screamed in drunken glee as the plastic went flying. Red Star brandished the branch, grinning. Then we heard the sirens. Up the block, we saw the cop car on the corner, whirling its sirens. Some pig said something incomprehensible but threatening over the loudspeaker. “Shit,” I said. “I’m out.” We ran for it, laughing but anxious, all the way to the train station. We split up after the turnstiles. The others all lived deeper in Brooklyn, but I needed to head to Queens. I climbed up the stairs to the platform and sat down on the wooden bench, pushing anxiety about bed bugs out of my head. I saw the three of them across the tracks and waved. They were all laughing. Red Star was mimicking how she had dealt the killing blow. I waved, and the Kindly Bisexual saw me and waved back. They all looked my way. Their train pulled in and I saw them, brilliantly fluorescent, pile into the Coney Island-bound train. Red Star and the Kindly Bisexual spread out on the empty seats; Comrade grabbed a pole. I waved again, feeling lonely now. Comrade glanced over his shoulder and saw me, and they all waved again. The train pulled away, leaving me in the deserted station, and I thought: well, shit. Back to catabasis again.

#saathiray #nice try fbi #my own damn work #:')#finally done

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just-the-mage · 3 years

Text

A Return from Dark Waters, Part III

Part I / Part II

Written with the lovely and talented @iris-ymir! <3

Iris picked up the fork, holding it between her thumb and middle finger. While poking the pie lazily, she kept rubbing her temple. Her head was pounding, like something was trying to force its way out through her skull. Purple eyes followed Eva, as the woman was working around the kitchen. Iris had never seen this side of her. Maybe it had always been there, but she had never paid attention to it, while toying around with the poor girl. She saw Evangeline in a completely new light. Was this because Blacksoul had taken her in, and given her a job? Or was this because of Irene? Iris did not know what to think of this Irene-person yet. Evangeline seemed to enjoy the company of the foxy creature, but there was something about Irene that Iris could not get a hold of. Compared to Lareine, she was completely different... There was something sinister in Irene.

“Where do you keep your cigarettes? I can fetch one for you…” Evangeline had walked up to Iris, while she had been lost in thought. The pale viera raised her gaze up to the woman, giving her another uneven blink. Eva still had her towel around her, and another wrapped around her long, red hair. The towel was the same Evangeline had when she first took a bath in the manor. It was way too small for her tall, muscular form. It took a moment for Iris to notice she was staring, and she quickly turned sideways on the chair, gazing towards the hallway.

“...Heck... Dere should be a pack in da drawer, ‘aight next to tha damn coat hangar... At least dere was... Another should be in tha pocket of mi leather jacket...

...Danke, Evangelin’.”, Iris sighed out, as the woman headed towards the doorway, leading into the hallway. The scent of fresh coffee started to fill the kitchen. Iris picked up the glass of water Eva had given to her, and held it to her lips. It was weird being here, after such a long time. In this kitchen, where everything seemed to be as it had been...long ago. It was like the whole world around had frozen in place for two years. Iris tipped the glass, taking a long sip, and then it happened. As the water ran down her throat... as she tasted it on her tongue, it suddenly returned her to the bottomless sea. She gasped for air, ending up only breathing in the rest of the water that was in her mouth. Cold fingers of terror ran up Iris’ back, and the glass dropped from her fingers and onto the floor, shattering into pieces with a loud crash, echoing through the manor. She curled up, coughing, and finally threw up onto the floor, where the remains of the glass were resting.

The viera’s hands were shaking as she grasped her upper arms, digging sharp fingernails into pale skin. The image of the white beach faded, and she was in the kitchen again.

“I... Im not comin’ back...”, Iris muttered to herself, as tears ran down her cheeks. “... Ye ‘ear mi, motherfocker?! Im n-not comin’ back!”, she broke into a shrilling giggle, rocking back and forth on the chair. The coffee pot was boiling alone on the stove.

The shattering of glass broke the night-time silence that sat heavy in the air of the manor, piercing Evangeline’s reverie as she approached the jacket hanger near the large oaken double doors that led out into the courtyard. Eva turned on her heel, the cigarettes forgotten, her instincts kicking in immediately. She dashed back down the hallway, all manner of decorum immediately thrown from the window, unwanted and unneeded. Was Iris okay? Had someone broken a window? She knew she shouldn’t have left her alone...even for a second. Iris was severely traumatized...Eva should have brought the girl with her. Cold raced through her body as she turned the corner, skidding on the hardwood floors of the passage leading to the kitchen. She felt something drive into her foot, but paid it no mind. Bursting through the doorway to the kitchen, she scanned the room in one swoop, noticing the windows were intact, but Iris’ glass most certainly wasn’t. The pale, slight woman sat, rocking back and forth in her chair, weeping uncontrollably. The floor underneath her was littered with shards of glass, topped off with a puddle of vomit-this time neither black nor bloody. Evangeline swept towards her, taking Iris in her arms without a second thought.

“Iris? Are you still with me?” She said softly, cradling the woman gently against her.

A shiver traveled through Iris’ corpse-like body as Eva held her in her arms. How did she always end up being carried by this woman? The feeling was not completely unpleasant, but she still felt tied down...On the other hand, the warmth of Evangeline’s body tore her free of the remnants of bone-white beach’s grip.

“...Damn, Cinnabun... Y-Yer gonna c-carry mi over tha frickin’ doorstep or whut..?”, Iris tried to laugh, but it came out as yet another cough. From the corner of her eyes, she thought she saw a figure, sitting on a top of a cupboard, but as she turned her gaze, it was gone.

“...Seriously though.. C-Could ya put mi down? Tha... heckin’ coffee pot sounds like its about to blow up... D-Did ya find mi cigs..?”

Evangeline finally noticed the coffee pot.

“Oh! Shite! Shite, shite, shite…” Still holding Iris, Eva stepped quickly across the floor, caution to the wind again. Transferring Iris to one arm, she moved the coffee pot off of the burner, spun surprisingly gracefully, and deposited Iris in another chair, well away from the glass and the sick that was slowly starting to seep in all directions, running along the cracks between the tiles. That would have to be cleaned up soon.

“I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have picked you up like that. Instinct, I guess...I don’t have too much control over it. I didn’t get to your cigarettes before I heard the glass break...I’ll run back out and get them in just a moment. Would you like to come with me? I don’t want you to have to be alone…” Evangeline said, suddenly realizing her towel had slipped quite a bit running back to the kitchen. She adjusted it as surreptitiously as she could manage, and turned away. She took the coffee pot and poured a mugfull of it for Iris.

“What would you like? Cream? Sugar?” Evangeline intoned over her shoulder. As she placed the coffee pot back on the stove and turned off the burner, she glanced at the floor, upon which she had left a few bloody footprints. She sighed internally. Arsene wasn’t going to be happy about this...not one bit.

“Uhh... Just sum cream... A-And a heckin’ whisky shot... Gramps used to give mi one wid mi coffee...” Iris leaned over the table, and could just reach the plate of pie, still resting on her former seat. She pulled the plate to her, and her eyes catched something on the marble flooring. Bloody footprints, leading towards Eva. The woman did not seem to even notice, while working with the coffee, going through the fridge, most likely searching for the cream, and struggling with her too-small towel. “’Ey!...Yer bleedin’ Evangelin’... Did ya step onto the frickin’ broken glass or sumthin’? Dat should be looked at... Yer gonna mess up tha carpet, if ya run around like dat... Come ‘ere, sit yer fine arse on tha chair, and let mi look at it... ‘aight?”, while talking, Iris waved her fork towards the chair next to her. ‘Even healed the burn on your arm’ Evangeline’s words about the fox haunted in Iris’ mind. She noticed she hated the creature already. The hate was different from the hate she felt towards Lareine though. Different like night and day... Lareine was basically a child. Annoying, yes, but in the end, rather easy to deal with. Irene though?

‘...Why are you afraid?’, the inaudible whisper in her ear.. an invisible, clawed hand on her shoulder. Iris winced, almost dropping the fork. She felt the hair on her neck standing up. The medication... Had anyone given her the medication during these...what...? Four days, Evangeline had said? In the middle of her train of thought, a cup of fresh coffee was placed in front of Iris. The scent was otherwordly... She raised her gaze up to the woman next to her. To those purple eyes, much like her own. With the color of her eyes, Evangeline could have been her sister.

“Forget dat cig for a moment, Cinnabun, and take a heckin’ seat... I’ll see whut I can do with yer foot, but just payin’ mind to tha amount of frickin’ blood on tha floor, I dink we might need sum bandages or sum shite ‘ere... Whut are the fockin’ chances dat once when I could actually use Blacksoul, tha man has left da buildin’..?” Iris tapped the chair with the tip of her fork, waiting for Evangeline to take a seat, before the woman could mess the floor any further. She picked up the cup of coffee, brought it to her lips, and took a sip, focusing on the taste... on the scent... trying to ignore the whispers in her ear... chase away the creeping feeling of someone, or something, standing right behind her... a looming presence...

Evangeline sat down with a sigh, propping her feet up so that Iris could look at them.

“Ugh...I didn’t even notice. Thank you, Iris. I’ll clean the floor in a moment...I appreciate you looking at them. I don’t have much feeling on the bottom of my feet anymore...you’re probably right. It must be some of the glass. Honestly though? I could have a nail in there and I’d have a hard time noticing.”

Evangeline glanced at Iris, who was carefully inspecting Eva’s foot. This was certainly not how Eva had expected, or wanted to spend her evening...she had been hoping for some relaxation, but she had been given a situation that was anything but relaxing. She was still surprised, though, at just how much better Iris returning had turned out. Eva had been dreading it in more ways than one...the shouting match that she had expected. The damaged feelings, the cold shoulders, the incredible awkwardness that would ensue, fallout from an earth-shattering argument between the two of them. And yet...despite the truly terrible breakdown she had just experienced, or...maybe...because of it? Everything had turned out well.

It was hardly a pleasant evening, but Eva found herself breathing a sigh of relief. And with that sigh of relief...she realized just how tired she was. The nightmare had taken its toll on her body...one that wasn’t obvious to the naked eye. Her limbs felt leaden, her eyes heavy...she felt like there was a stone tied around her neck, dragging her down. It wouldn’t be long before she fell asleep...she hoped Iris would stay with her. Sleep next to her as she had said she would.

Melancholy weighed upon her mind as she wound down, pent-up tension releasing as she felt the light pressure of Iris’ fingers on her foot. It would probably be improper for her to sleep next to Irene in the future. Especially once Silke got back. The two of them seemed truly meant to be together...despite whatever it was that was holding them back. The last thing she wanted, though, was to let go of that friendship...whatever her own needs were, she felt a pressing need to maintain her friendship with Irene...and perhaps even create one with Iris. She winced as Iris touched something. There it was...whatever was plaguing her foot.

“That’s something...ah...what did I step on? I can actually feel that.”

Iris leaned forward, while turning Eva’s foot as much as it was possible with the woman sitting down, to get a better look. There was definitely something in there. By running her fingertip gently over the wound, she could feel something sharp in there. It was a big one, and had sunken too deep for her to get a grip of it. Even less with her long claw-like nails, which in this case, were more in the way than helpful.

“Dere’s definetely sumthin’ okai... But dis arse’ole is a big one... Let mi just try to...”, she placed her thumb onto the side of the wound, and while pressing onto it, rubbed her other thumb down from where she thought the little piece of shite was hiding in. As she did this, Evangeline’s leg twitched, making Iris lose her grip.

“...For fock’s sake... Do mi a favor, Cinnabun... ‘Aight? Try to stay still... I almost got it... May need sum tools though, but... Lemme try it one more time!” The blood was slowly dripping out of the wound, running down on Eva’s foot, and falling onto Iris’ pale thigh, like an injured wolf’s lifeblood dripping onto fresh snow. With a long sigh, Iris returned her attention to the wound. After some time, and a couple of failed attempts, she got a grip of the end of what appeared to be a splinter of wood, instead of glass. She bit her lower lip, and pulling down carefully, got the splinter out, holding it up for Evangeline to see.

“Now look at dat frickin’ bad boy! Dis is a damn ‘alf o’ a log right ‘ere! Damn... Dis fockin’ ‘ouse is fallin’ apart...”, she gave a quick glance towards the wound, while placing the rather sizeable splinter onto the edge of the table. The wound was not bleeding badly. The splinter had gushed out some blood on the way out, but without it, it was hardly dripping. This was good.

“Now stay dere... I’ll see if... I can find anythin’ to tie tha wound wid.. Its not bleedin’ much animore, but ya cant walk on tha hallway carpets wid it aniway.. Blacksoul would frickin’ kill ya..”

Supporting herself with the back of her chair, Iris got up, only to almost fall face first onto the marble flooring. Her head was spinning. The room changed in front of her eyes. Hard, cold marble under her feet turned into soft, bone-white sand. The walls around vanished into thick fog, rising from the pitch-black sea. She fell onto her knees, breathing quickly... breathing in the thick air which reminded her of cold winter graves... and rot.

“No... Nonononono!”, a wail escaped her lips, as she held her head, trying to make the vision disappear, but it was no use. Evangeline? Iris turned around quickly, but the woman had disappeared, with everything else. There was something in the mist though... Further away on the beach, near the waterline... A figure, dressed up into a grey gown, which almost made her part of the fog. What stood out though, was her face... Lips had been painted black, against almost white chin. And the eyes... The area around the eyes had been smeared with black, like soot, and from that darkness, two empty, dead eyes stared towards Iris. Dead, soulless eyes. Iris opened her mouth to scream, but no voice came out.

Suddenly the world turned again, turning her stomach upside-down, and throwing her back into the kitchen. She was sitting back on the floor, the towel had dropped, and was now laying next to her feet. Evangeline was back... and for the second time, during a single evening, Iris was happy to see that face... those eyes like purple pools. Eyes that were alive. Visibly shaking, Iris got back onto her feet, picking up the towel, and wrapping it around her form.

“...W-When’s B-Blacksoul comin’ back, Evangelin’..?”

Iris rose from her chair, remarking that bandages would be a necessity if Eva ever wanted to leave the kitchen again. The muscular woman nodded in agreement, her crimson locks bouncing as she did. The sooner they could bandage her foot, the sooner they could fall into bed, something Eva was quickly finding that she needed desperately. Iris hadn’t been standing for more than a second before she tipped over like an expensive, fragile glass vase. She didn’t hit the floor immediately, but hung in the air for a moment, wobbling, her eyes searching the room wildly for something that wasn’t there. Before Eva could untangle herself enough to catch Iris, though, the other woman had collapsed to her knees, quietly wailing and clutching at herself. Evangeline sprung to her side, decorating the floor with another splatter of blood. Again? Crossed her mind. The mental toll this...dark sea must have taken on Iris’ mind seemed immense. She wondered if there was a trigger...something to be avoided that might help Iris stay grounded. Or maybe...something to be said?

“Iris? Iris! Listen to me, okay? You’re right here, not anywhere else. I’m right here next to you.” Evangeline knelt down next to the kneeling woman and took Iris’ chin under her hand, tilting it up so that she could look into the other woman’s eyes.

“Look at me...focus on me. Hear my voice, and stay with me.” Iris’ eyes...they weren’t Irene’s, that much was certain. But she almost looked through Evangeline...her eyes locked to something that wasn’t there. In a moment, though, she seemed to snap back to reality, her eyes no longer drifting, focusing in on the woman who was directly in front of her.

”W-When’s B-Blacksoul comin’ back, Evangelin’..?” Varg hadn’t said specifically when he would be returning. A month, or two perhaps. He may have been vague because he himself didn’t know how much time he’d need to be away for. This wasn’t particularly good...especially given the way Iris’ condition seemed to be straining her. Hadn’t she...hadn’t she had some medication? Something she had taken days before? Evangeline remembered Varg making some sort of comment about Iris working at the hospital…

“He said...a month. Two at most.” Concern was clear on Evangeline’s face.

“Wasn’t there some sort of medication you had? Were you supposed to take it daily? Irene never took anything, to my memory.” Eva placed her hands on the shoulders of the now shaking viera.

“You’re going to be okay. I promise.” Evangeline stood up. She’d have to get a bit creative for now...fetch some proper bandages later once things had settled down. She stepped over to the sink, leaving a still-noticeable but less severe pattern of blood along the kitchen floor. From a drawer underneath it, she pulled a dishrag, and, crouching over, wiped her foot and tied the cloth around it. Hopefully this would be enough to staunch the bleeding, at least enough for her to move around the house. She returned to Iris, coming back down to her level. She took Iris’ hand in hers, and looked into those deep purple eyes. The eyes she had loved, lost, and that had come back...not at all in the way she had expected.

“Do you think the medication will help you? If it will, I’ll come with you...and we can find it together. You’re not alone.”

Iris took hold of Evangeline’s hand, letting the woman help her back onto her feet. Her head was still spinning, and she felt like her legs would give in, but she managed to stay standing. She gave a quick glance around the kitchen. It was a mess. Bloody footprints traveled back and forth across the floor, like an echo of where Eva had been. The puddle of almost colorless puke was still resting at the foot of the table, but had stopped from spreading further. Leaning onto Eva, Iris took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of someone constantly watching her from the shadows of her heart. Two months until Blacksoul would be back? For once, Iris would have actually needed the man, and on the moment like that, he was gone. This was like a bad, universal joke…

“Tha medicine, yeah. I... should take it daily. It should be in mi room... At tha heckin’ nightstand.. a small wooden casing. ‘Onestly though? Im frickin’ tired.. Could just head off to bed and take it den...”, while still talking, she glanced towards the pie and fresh cup of coffee, that were left on the table.

“...Shite... I-I can make it into mi room on mi own.. Im not a fockin’ grandma to be carried around. But... could ya bring tha coffee and pie wid ya? Damn I hate to even ask, but Im afraid I might drop dem on tha way...”

“Absolutely!” Evangeline’s lips curled up into a warm smile, as she made sure pale woman would stay standing without support. She took couple of steps to the table, and picked up the plate and cup of coffee.

She would need to clean the kitchen floor, but first she would see Iris into her room, and get her the medication. Meanwhile, Iris was waddling her way towards the door, and into the hallway. She glanced up towards the stairs, bit her lip, and started to climb. At this point she realized just how tired her whole body was. The dream... hallucination.. whatever it had been, had taken its toll onto her body, and she felt like she had not slept in days, while truly, it was almost all she had done for the past week or so. After a climb that felt like a dozen floors, Iris arrived at the second floor of the manor, where her room was. She could hear Evangeline’s steps in the stairway behind her. Every second step sounded damp, because of the rag she had wrapped onto the wound. Iris placed her bony fingers onto the handle, and opened the door, stepping into her room, which was filled with dolls of all shapes and sizes. Everything seemed to be as she had left it. She fought her way to the wide bed, and fell back onto the black, velvery sheets, partly sinking into soft cushions.

Iris’ usually confident stride had been fully replaced by a half-awake stagger. Evangeline wanted to support her...help her along...but Iris’ pride, even in this state, probably wouldn’t allow for it. She had already picked the woman up once tonight...might as well let her maintain her independence in getting to bed. Eva padded along behind her, uneven in her gait as she stepped on the rag again. Hopefully it wasn’t soaked through yet...she just needed a bit longer until she was able to slip away to the bathroom. Loathe as she was to leave Iris alone, she felt a pressing responsibility to clean up as much as she could...and she needed to bandage her foot if she wanted to get into bed. Bloody sheets were the last thing that anyone wanted to wake up to.

Iris rounded the corner into her room, which had remained mostly, if not entirely, untouched throughout the other woman’s absence. Now all that remained was injecting her medicine, a task that Eva wasn’t fully familiar with. She hoped Iris would be able to manage it. Administering medication was far from Eva’s strong suit, and though she could apply a bandage as well as the next person, she would be hard pressed to find a vein with how tired she was.

Evangeline slipped into the room just in time to see Iris throw herself onto her bed, as if she were a fox plunging into a snowbank in search of prey. The bed looked incredibly comfortable. Iris being in it...an added bonus. Evangeline thanked all twelve gods that she wouldn’t have to sleep alone tonight. Even if it wasn’t Irene...having someone else there would be a lifesaver. She approached the bed, and set the coffee and the pie down on the nightstand next to the side Iris lay on, wreathed in dark sheets. Looking to a wooden box on the same nightstand, Evangeline picked it up and opened it, revealing a syringe and a bottle of light green liquid. It looked like what one would expect poison to look like…

“Can you inject this yourself? I’m not...not really a professional with a needle, unfortunately.”

"Yeah, I can do dat miself... Not dat I even like anyone else doin' it. Just... fill tha syringe to one third and 'and it to mi, will ya?" Iris replied, her eyes full to the brim with exhaustion.

“Of course.” Evangeline smiled softly at the small, slight puddle of viera lying in bed in front of her. She filled the syringe, at first halfway, and then letting enough out to be right around one third full. Handing it to Iris, she asked:

“Will you be okay if I run and get bandages? I’d like to keep your bed as clean as I can...and I feel a bit obligated to clean up as much of the floor of the kitchen as I can manage. I’ve left the pie and the coffee here on your nightstand.”

Iris nodded and gave Eva a slight wave, shaking hands trying to find a vein with the needle. Evangeline struggled mentally for a second, before uttering:

“Can I...would you like me to...can I help at all?” Iris shook her head, still concentrating on placing the needle. Eva let out a light sight and withdrew. She wanted to help, but at this point it would be better to get everything sorted with the kitchen then to try and help Iris with something that Evangeline herself had no idea how to do. She’d most likely just make the situation worse.

Stepping away from the pale viera, Eva unevenly retreated out of the room, her every other footstep muffled by the rag that was luckily still tied around her foot properly. Over the next few minutes she first made her way to the bathroom and found a roll of blissfully white bandages, thoroughly wrapped her foot, and carefully taped it together with a few lengths of medical tape. That would hold her until morning...at least. She’d need to air it out tomorrow, and try to take a better look at it, but hopefully it would start healing on its own. Holding up the rag she had removed, she sighed disappointedly. It was fully dyed crimson at this point. Very little of the original grey of the cloth remained. She hoped Arsene hadn’t been particularly fond of this rag...it was basically useless now. Eva balled it up and stood, now properly bandaged. One task down...now on to the next one.

To Be Continued...

#ffxiv #evangeline cross #writing #rp #mateus rp #iris ymir #the coils of d'espair: irene #viera #rava viera #veena viera #crystal rp #ffxiv rp #a return from dark waters

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sweet-symphony0 · 4 years

Note

Leon Saves Elliot from being held hostage by a criminal (gun held against his stomach)

My bad on this being eons late, I’ve been staring at it for two months now almost daily but here we are.

---

Elliot wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up here, chained to the ceiling by his hands and a Dark Army agent staring him down with the barrel of the gun in his hand pointed at his stomach.

It only made him slightly nervous. Whiterose wouldn’t kill him, not yet anyway. There was too much use for him, she needed him, that much he was certain of, whether she admitted to it or not. In truth, he was quite bored. He wasn’t sure what kind of use he could be to Whiterose tied up like this, and really he had things he had to attend to. Like Darlene. Had she noticed his absence yet?

Elliot didn’t say any of this out loud, eyes fixated on the gun in front of him. This was the second day it had been like this, how many more to go, Elliot didn’t know.

He tried asking what the point of this was, and had gotten no reply, so Elliot stopped asking. He was patient; he could wait this out.

If he wanted to wait it out though...

“Don’t ask questions,” Mr. Robot hissed at him, materializing out of nowhere in the corner of their tiny cell. “You’ll get us killed. Just be patient while I figure this out.”

Figure out what? We’re stuck, asshole.

“No, no,” Robot murmured, staring at the gun too. “I’ve got a plan. Hang tight kiddo.” And he was gone again, Elliot mourning the loss. As annoying as Mr. Robot was, he was another companion, a welcomed change in a place like this.

Wait, come back, he pleaded internally. Don’t leave.

Zero response.

Hey, asshole.

Still nothing.

Elliot sighed, wondering if he really was about to die here, and if he could get a decent last meal before he did. Tell Darlene he loved her and to take care of Flipper for him. She deserved that at least. A goodbye, for all the times Elliot had let her down otherwise.

“Where’s Whiterose?” He asked for the third time, and froze when he heard the safety of the gun click off. He’d been ignored the first two times, he must’ve pissed this guy off now.

“I said no questions.”

“You haven’t given me any information, I’ve just been here-”

“I said,” his kidnapper said, standing up and pressing the barrel of the gun firmly against Elliot’s ribs. “No questions.”

He was digging the gun into Elliot’s side so firmly that Elliot was certain he could feel his heart beat reverberating against it.

“You wouldn’t kill me,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “She needs me alive for her precious project.”

It was a stupid call, as he watched the man’s finger pull the trigger slowly, and time froze.

There was a gunshot, except it wasn’t the one Elliot was expecting. He watched as the gun pressed against his abs fell away as the man crumpled from a bullet to his brain, falling to the floor in a bloody mess, and Elliot looked up from where he was staring at the bleeding corpse, to see Leon with arms outstretched, gun pointed and aimed at exactly where the lackey had been. And behind him stood Mr. Robot, hands in his pockets, looking a little too impatient at this whole thing.

“Kiddo,” he sighed. “What’d I say?”

“Fuck you,” Elliot said back, though it was without any malice. He didn’t realize he was shaking until Leon reached up to unlock the cuffs around his fists and he too, crumpled to the floor in a heap, falling into the pool of blood around him.

“I gotchu, cuz,” Leon murmured absentmindedly, sticking a cigarette between his lips before hoisting Elliot to his feet and wrapping Elliot’s arm around his shoulder to support him. “C’mon. You aight.”

“Yeah,” Elliot managed to get out, dragging his feet as Leon led them out of the building. “What...”

“Later,” Leon said, and Elliot could work with that. They got outside, the three of them, and as Elliot collapsed against the wall, Leon lit his cigarette, staring at the road and waiting before a car pulled up, the driver got out and left the keys. Leon nodded.

“C’mon,” he said again, holding his hand out for Elliot to take. Elliot does, and doesn’t ask questions, sliding into the backseat with Robot behind him.

It wasn’t until Leon dropped them off at a motel in Marlton with some cash and Elliot’s wallet and phone that Elliot finally asked.

“Thought you were Dark Army.”

“I was,” Leon shrugged, taking a drag of the cigarette. “Freelance now, remember? She don’t control me for shit. Plus I like you. Don’t wanna see you dead, cuz.”

“Uh,” Elliot stared. Was that worse? “Thanks?”

“No probs,” Leon said already walking off, with Elliot and Mr. Robot staring after him. “You call me if ya need, my dude. Peace.” And he was gone, driving off with Elliot standing in his wake. Elliot finally turned to Mr. Robot.

“You called him?”

“Yep.”

“...Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Elliot doesn’t, walking towards the motel room instead, and by the time he looks back again, Mr. Robot is gone too.

He had to call Darlene.

#mr. robot #mr. robot fic #elliot alderson #leon

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samcrobae · 5 years

Text

Wine, Part III (crossover?)

WARNING: mention of miscarriage, language, mention of abortion.

“Keep him close, kid” Bishop tapped EZ on the arm. “I’m outta here. Gilly, Coco, Creep, with me.” The three walk out the front door with Bishop. “What’s up Jefe?” Coco asked.

“This is going to break him. Find her. Get her to come back. I’ve had enough of the Reyes family bullshit and I want it done. The guys a fuckin flight risk.”

“Yeah aight” coco replied. She works at that law firm on the corner off 9th. I’ll stop by there tomorrow see if she shows.”

“No, I want you on her. Creep, find out if she has any other contacts in Santo Padre. Surrounding cities, towns, I don’t care. Gilly, you go to her office tomorrow see if she’s there. Let me know what you find.”

————————————

Coco pulled up outside of your old condo as he saw you getting into your car. He followed you for a couple hours, sure to stay far enough behind so that you wouldn’t notice. Passing up the town sign he let out a “Charming? what the fuck?” He stopped just half a block away from you as he watched you pull into the lot. “Teller-Morrow Automotives”.

“What the fuck are you doing with SAMCRO girl...” coco whispered to himself. He waited about 45 minutes til you pulled out of the lot and left. “Shit.”

————————————-

Coco had followed you for a few days, everything was as normal. You’d leave your condo everyday at 8:15, stop for coffee, head into the office, and head home at 4:30. Back at the scrapyard Coco, Creep, Gilly, and Bishop talked amongst themselves.

“I don’t know Jefe, something ain’t sittin right with me, her going to SAMCRO. For what? If Angel knew about this-”

“He won’t know anything til he needs to. Coco, Creep, go down to Teller-Morrow, pay our white boys a friendly visit. Gilly, check up on the prospect and Angel. Hey- I mean it Coco. Friendly visit.”

———————————————

Pulling into the lot, Quinn notices the uninvited visitors. “Jax! Mayans.” Throwing on his kutte he walks out with Chibs at his side. Coco and Creeper park their bikes and cut the engines. “Think you’re lost, Ese. Little Mexico’s that way.” Jax says as he takes a cigarette between his lips and lights it. Coco steps forward and Creeper puts his hand on his arm and shakes his head in disagreement.

Coco lets out a sigh , “Looking for Y/N. I know she’s been here. Why?”

Jax takes a step toward Coco and looks at Chibs. “What the hell does a Mayan want with Y/N?”

“Need to talk to her. Family shit.”

“Family? Well you’re lookin at it Vato. Now get back on your bikes and go home to your beans and tortillas. I’m sure whatever she has going on doesn’t concern you.”

Coco and Creeper look at each other, a look of confusion drawn on their faces.

“You sure bout that Guero?” Coco asked. “Might wanna talk to the father of her child about that. Since she’s got a little Mayan in her.”

Chibs and Jax look at each other, a look of worry and confusion spread on their faces. “What the fuck?” Jax’s neck vein about to burst, he motions to Chibs. “Find Lyla and get her out here now.”

“Aye. LYLLAAAAAAA” Chibs shouts from the parking lot. Lyla and Chucky come running out of the clubhouse and see the Mayans stopped in front of Jax. “Shit.” Lyla whispered under her breath.

“Can I help?” Chucky asked.

Jax looked at Lyla before replying “Chucky take a walk.”

He nods his head. “I accept that”. And walks back into the clubhouse. Jax looked at Lyla and placed his hand on her arm. “Now I’m only gonna ask you this once darlin. When Y/N came in the other day she was looking for you. Why?” Lyla nervously looks at coco from the corner of her eye. “WHY!!” Jax yells.

“She came in and told me she was pregnant. With a Mayan’s baby. Said shit was heavy.” Lyla began. Coco spoke up “yeah what else she tell you? She go into detail? Tell you anything she shouldn’t have?” He clenched his jaw together.

“Hey!” Jax shoved Coco, “if you lay a fuckin hand on Y/N I will cut your Mexican heart out and have Coco tacos for dinner.” “Jackie...." Chibs warned.

Lyla continued, “she didn’t say anything I swear. Came in looking for the name of the doctor I used for my abortion. I gave her the info but I haven’t heard from her since. She’s torn. But wanted the information so I gave it to her. She’s not returning my calls or my texts.”

“Jesus Christ you’re swapping recipes and abortion secrets now?” Chibs asked. Creeper looked at Lyla. “You got a number for her?”

“Yeah it’s in my phone I’ll go get it.”

Coco looks at Jax, who now looks hurt and mad at the same time. “Sorry Ese, hope you didn’t have a chubby for Y/N. Guess she just liked that chorizo sausage a little more eh?”

Seconds later Lyla returns with a piece of paper in hand. That’s her cell. She took the next few days off work. So she might be at her condo. She was supposed to sell it but I don’t know if she ever even put it on the market.”

“Yeah thanks. You fellas have a nice day.” Coco and Creeper get back on their bikes and head out of charming and head straight to your place.

————————————-

You get to the top of your stairs when something doesn’t look right.. your lock had clearly been messed with. There was a screw on the floor. Nervous, you slowly crept into your front door, nothing seemed out of place , nothing taken. You head to your living room and see Coco sat on your couch. You let out a quick scream and realize it’s him. “My bad.” Coco said.

“What the fuck Coco! Why are you here?” You and coco went back and forth like spitfire, question after question thrown like darts at a dartboard.

“Why did you leave?”

“Did Angel send you?”

“Why were you at TM?”

“Are you following me?”

“Did you get that doctor info you needed?”

“How long have you been following me?”

“Why did that guy at TM have no fingers?”

“What do you want coco?”

“How the fuck do you know Jax Teller?”

Silence hung in the air as Coco basically spit that question out to you and if his words could slap you across the face, those would have. You sat down on the ottoman diagonal to your couch. “I need some answers here Chiquita. You destroyed my hermano and I had to watch it happen. We all did. You need to start talking.” Coco sat back in your couch and placed his hands behind his head.

You let out a loud sigh and placed your hands in your lap. “I was feeling... off. Not myself for a few weeks. I tried to ignore it but I couldn’t shake the feeling. My periods are funky so I didn’t think anything of it. Angel and I had been seeing each other a few months, but man. We fucked like rabbits. I took a pregnancy test and for a small moment Coco, I was excited. I have loved Angel for so long and there’s no doubt he’d be such a good dad. But when. Realized we’d be raising a child in the middle of all of this..."

“You panicked.” Coco finished the sentence for you.

“I know who he is, the shit happening in the club. And I accept it. All of it and I accept him. I know this is who he is. I can’t ask him to choose. Anyway, I went to talk to Lyla to get the doctor she went to for her abortion. I went to the doctor and I’m further along than I thought. 13 weeks. And , as soon as I saw that baby on the screen, coco I left. I couldn’t do it.”

“And SAMCRO?” He asked.

“My mom was a friend of the family. But when she left me, Gemma took me in. Made sure I had a roof over my head, went to school, got a job and stayed off the streets.”

“Teller?” Coco looked at you.

“Jackson and I ... we.. we were a thing for a minute. I loved him. And he loved me. We wanted to get married, have kids. I got pregnant my junior year of high school. Jax was already out by then. He was over the moon. Then one night I woke up in a puddle of my own blood. I lost the baby. But I was a kid ya know. I don’t know. Then a year after graduation, I left. Didn’t say a word to anyone about it. I kept in contact with Jax but we didne share the intimate details of our lives anymore. I had no idea how deep he was in it with the club, had no idea I was with Angel. Didn’t know I’m pregnant”.

“When you went to see Lyla, was he there?”

“Yeah, we kept our distance. I just needed to talk to someone who had been through it. Someone who isn’t Gemma. Lyla had Ope. She understood.” You felt the tears roll down your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to hurt Angel. Embarrass him in front of his family. I didn’t know what to do."

“Walking out ain’t it Chiquita. This shit with the club is enough to fuck anyone up. Angel? He’s seen some shit. He’s done some shit. All he wants in this life is a place to call home. That’s you. This ain’t for the faint of heart. If you’re gonna be in this, then you’re in this. There’s no half in, half out, get advice from other MCs, walking out on my viejo, not knowing what you wanna do shit. If you’re in this, go home. To Angel. Fix this shit eh? But you need to know that you pulling this shit is never an option. If you ain’t, then get rid of that baby and just leave. And if what Angel said is true, YOU asked him to stay. He did.”

Coco sat up and motioned at Creeper it was time to go. He looked back at you before leaving out the front door. You dropped your face in your hands and sat in silence for what felt like hours before grabbing your keys and purse and heading to your car.

@mrsamaroevans @cind-in-real-life

#mayans imagine #coco cruz #mayans fanfic #mayans mc #angel x reader #angel reyes #jaxsoa #jax teller

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breziarchive · 6 years

Text

aight aight finally, majimako flowershop au for grimmnoir_ on twitter. this one was tough for me because i, am not very good, at fluff, and as such, there is blood, and violence, and eventual murder in this. WHOOPS!

valentine’s day boogaloo - guidelines - ko-fi - majimako zine

((Requests are closed, ko-fis are still extremely appreciated and I BELIEVE this is the last day to preorder the Majimako zine!!))

Curiosity drew him to the flower shop. Majima was not a gentle guy, and any appreciation he held for this sort of business was superficial at best. Even the cute girl that tended to the storefront only earned a glance or two from him—until he noticed that she used her hands, a lot. So much so that he started to realize that she wouldn’t ever look someone in the eye even if seemed she attempted to do so. His answer finally came late one night when he wandered during a smoke break to see her close up the shop. She left with a cane in hand to scan the streets.

The next day Majima decided to talk to the blind girl.

The flowers were arranged until they were as tall as he was, their leaves and petals dangling to brush his forehead as he felt like he entered a secret grove in the concrete jungle. The girl was watering them, touching the soil with her bare hands and letting the droplets run down her wrists once it was properly soaked. She surprised him, turning and greeting before he said anything.

“Ya scared me,” he laughed a little. She seemed a tad sheepish.

“Your shoes, do they have metal on them?”

Majima looked down, “Yah. Did that give me away?”

She smiled and nodded.

Makoto was her name. She was sweet. Genuine, but casual. He barely learned anything of her personal life beyond how she lived with her blindness—what her favorite radio shows were, how she navigated the scents and textures of the flowers to find the right ones for the customer. Arranging and color coordination was left up to her supervisor, a big burly man who gave Majima a strange stare every time he swung by. But for all the information she told him he still felt there was something missing, something he couldn’t know.

“Majima-san?” she asked once, tracing the soft edges of a lily. He tilted his head then hummed to let her know he was listening, “Why do you come by the shop?

He wanted to tell her he was no stranger to blindness, at least on one side. But what was he going to say? That the reason he had started talking to her was because he felt they had something in common from the start? It felt selfish and rude, so his mind raced to come up with something instead. As he stumbled over his own mutters, Makoto continued.

“It’s just…,” she mused, closing a thumb over the tip of the lily’s petal, “You just let me talk, then you leave. And…,”

“Ah,” he said, dumb and awkward and offering no answer.

“Well,” Makoto frowned, “You’ve never told me I’m pretty,”

Majima choked on the cigarette he had been chewing on (and not smoking out of courtesy for both her and the plants) and beat his chest with his fist to regain his breath. Her wide, unfocused eyes turned towards him in shock and concern, but he managed to start sputtering to assuage her attention.

“Sh-Should I have?” his voice cracked. Makoto blinked.

“N-No, but, when men come around, that’s usually what they say,” she offered, then her voice fell to a place Majima wasn’t sure he could reach, “That’s what they all say.”

“Shit,” Majima heard her voice but chose to ignore it for both their sakes, “Well, y’are. Does that slot me in with the men now?”

Makoto laughed—no, giggled, a sound that Majima realized he hadn’t heard before and was mortified when his chest tightened like it wanted to hear more.

“Are you trying to be a man, Majima-san?” she asked. He huffed, smirking.

“Well, from what ya said, I ain’t so sure anymore. What should I be?”

“I think...being Majima-san suits you best,” she answered. His chest tightened again. Not that she had any idea, but hearing those words, in the exact way she said them...It was a sentiment he hadn’t entertained in a very long time, if ever. She shook her head, though, pushing the tightness away in light of paying attention to her.

“But you haven’t answered my question. Why watch a blind girl water plants for half an hour every day?”

He fell quiet, tapping the metal toe of his shoe on the floor. She was listening to the sound over the sloshing of water in the can, he could tell just by the way she tilted her head.

“Promise you’ll still respect me in the mornin’?” he asked. Makoto giggled again. Goddamnit. He couldn’t look at her like this, and thus turned his blind side to her, “I uh. Well. My sight ain’t so great either. Great big hole in my face. Must be why yer boss gives me the evil eye so much, I look more like a snake than a prince,”

Makoto went silent with shock, barely realizing the soil she was watering was overflowing until water dripped to the floor. Jerking the watering can away, she dipped her fingers into the soil, prodding until she begrudgingly accepted her mistake with a curt sigh. Majima turned to watch as she rubbed leftover grains of soil between her fingers, thinking hard.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, “What happened?”

Majima frowned. That wasn’t her business, not because he didn’t really want to tell her but more because telling her would let her know too much. That he had asked about red flowers once because he had been looking at his tattoo the previous night, that he had been yakuza and was only in this town because of the crimes he had committed. Crimes that even other yakuza would frown upon.

“Don’t really think that’s a good topic of convo,” he muttered. Makoto hummed, closing her eyes and bringing her soiled hand to her chest.

“I see.”

The sound of the city bled through to them in the aisles of flowers in their quiet. Somewhere in the back her boss shuffled paperwork. A group of young girls ogled at flowers outside that their dream boyfriends would get them if only they were allowed to date.

“But you know,” Makoto raised the watering can and moved on to the next lily, “Snakes aren’t all bad,”

“Haw?”

“They eat insects, small rodents, things that can really harm flowers and gardens if left unchecked,” she supplied with a smile. Majima stood dumbfounded.

“Oh. I ain’t one fer flowers, much,”

“That much is clear!” she laughed, “But maybe you scare away all the men who want to tell me I’m pretty,”

“That so?” he eyed the street. Makoto nodded, then offered him the watering can to help her with the plants beyond her reach.

The big man was tending the flowershop the next day, greeting Majima in such a loud and jovial way he almost stepped back from the force of it. Swept up into his booming conversation, Majima found he did not have a polite way to leave as he talked about this and that and every little damn thing that could drag a conversation on for far too long, leading him farther and farther back into the shop just to keep up. Makoto was sick that day, he explained, so it was up to him for storefront work. Fine. But he just wished he could leave now, instead of being strung along an asinine chain of anecdotes.

Out of nowhere the man spun around and grabbed his wrist. Majima yelped, raising a fist to beat him off as he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up.

The man narrowed his eyes at his bare arm, then let him go.

“Tell me. Ya got a tat?” Gone was the booming joy, replaced with a dark and serious tone. Majima kept his fist raised, pulling back on defense.

“What of it?” he growled.

“You yakuza?”

“No,” Majima answered, “What’s it to ya?”

The man frowned, looking off to the side, “Makoto ain’t sick. Not properly. She just couldn’t sleep.”

“Haw?”

“Thinkin’ bout you. Thinkin’ bout herself. Did she ever tell you why she’s blind?”

Majima didn’t shake his head lest he take his eye off this man for one second, “No. Never asked,”

The man nodded, “Some head on yer shoulders, then.”

That’s when Majima learned everything. The bat tattoo, her recent past, the blindness, and the man—Lee’s—rescue operation. The grip of a blind girl that led to him fathering her when she had no one else to turn to. Lee let her run the flower shop as he did paperwork—that is to say, he was running every attempt he could to track the bastard down. No, he hadn’t really thought it was Majima, but knowing his connections and Makoto’s fondness of him, it was time to recruit him to help.

In all honesty, Majima couldn’t do much. He knew a tattoo artist in the area that could maybe point to someone, if he had been the one to give the tattoo. It was worth a shot.

But in the meantime, Lee was going to be gone for three days.

Majima agreed to keep checking up on her while he was gone.

She was fine both days he stopped by. A little more distant than usual, and he was more awkward now that he knew but couldn’t exactly say he knew. It was possible Lee told her that Majima now knew everything, or maybe even moreso she had asked Lee to tell him. But it wasn’t just something he could spring out in the open, especially if a real customer wanted to stop by. He put his focus on being cordial and sweet, touching the soil where she did to feel what she felt as she talked and he listened, as they always did. He still felt the soil on his fingers even when he washed the dirt away from his fingernails to prepare for work.

The paper of the cigarette felt foreign for the first time in his life, and Majima found himself wandering on his smoke break again.

He wanted to see her again. It was a strange thought that he initially figured to be selfish, but as his feet took him to the flower shop something different brewed in his gut. Queasiness, dread, unease—he didn’t know why, but it certainly made his pace quicker until he rounded the corner to the little back street. Most of her flowers had been pulled back into the shop for the night.

But the gate wasn’t closed.

Hurrying to the door, Majima found himself crouching lower to the ground as he cautiously swung it open. Maybe it was a late customer. Maybe she was just having trouble without Lee’s help.

Maybe.

Until he heard plants topple, pots, shatter, and her mortified scream of terror muffled by god knows what.

Before he knew it, his instinct drew his dagger from behind his back and Majima plunged into the dark flower shop.

“Stop!” Makoto pleaded with her attacker, “Stop, stop, no!!”

“Wish I could explain,” the man said in a voice that was far too smooth to just be some random assailant, “But it’s a long story. So long, Xiao Qiao.”

Before she could ask, her mouth was covered again no doubt to conceal any final screams. Majima’s eye widened in the dark and before he knew it the dagger sliced in front of him. The man holding Makoto buckled with an unholy wail as the small of his back opened up. Crumpling to the ground, Makoto scuttled along, cutting her hands on shards of pots as she blindly fled for safety. Words of comfort and encouragement beat in the back of Majima’s mind to call out to her.

Instead, a hideous screech emanated from his throat and he plunged into fury, dagger meeting tonfa in the low light as the man fought back. Blows glanced off of Majima, no doubt bruising and hurting but he couldn’t feel any of it, focused solely on the coward who’d dare attack a blind girl when she was alone. Blood was soon everywhere, though whether what he tasted on his lips was his own or otherwise Majima couldn’t tell. All he could sense over the brawl was Makoto’s feet scraping along the floor as she cowered.

It ended with a grand whimper. The dagger thrust into the attacker’s ribs, robbing him of air in a short, horrified second before he began to sputter and choke. Majima panted, long legs straddling the body like a spider crab and shoulders heaving as more and more senses came into focus. Makoto stifled her weeping in an unseen corner of the shop. As hair from his ponytail dangled in his vision he finally came to, grabbing the left wrist of the fading attacker.

Though it was hard to see in the light, he could just make out the outline of wings on his arm.

Fuckin’ rat in the garden.

Majima stood up.

Blood, black in the low light, dripped from whatever plants were still standing. Soil covered the floor, silencing the metal tap of his shoes as he picked his way around, sliding shards of pots away as he followed Makoto’s cries. When it was abundantly clear he had found her, she gathered her dwindling courage and called out.

“Wh-Who is it?!”

Majima paused, some paces in front of her.

“Who’s there?”

Throat raw from more than just screeching, Majima forewent words and simply tapped his toe on the tile, shaking dirt off to the sound of metal.

“M-Majima-san?” she whispered. He approached and dropped to his knees, laying the dagger on the ground before taking her hands in his, “A-Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“Ain’t ya supposed to be home?” he countered softly. Makoto shook her head, pulling their hands to her brow as her breath hitched.

“Lee-san told me, he had found a lead,” Makoto blubbered, “He may have found someone with a bat tattoo, so he left. But if he was here, then that means—,”

“It don’t mean nothin’,” Majima said firmly, “Lee ain’t boutta go down so easy. I’m sure he’ll come back an’ give me hell for tearin’ up the shop.”

Makoto’s wide dark eyes shone with tears as she looked at him, somehow meeting his only eye.

“Is...is he…,”

“He is,” Majima murmured, “He ain’t hurtin’ anyone anymore,”

Makoto tucked her chin and her hands trembled in Majima’s hold.

“He called me by a name that...he shouldn’t have, no one should know,”

He cocked his head, “Who would know?”

She went quiet for a long time, trembling all over. Then, as if overcome with exhaustion, she pushed away from the corner and into his chest. Majima started, shocked, and didn’t respond until it was quite awkward to do so.

“Stay with me?” she whispered, frightened and bleak.

“’Course,” he finally wrapped his arms around her, “I ain’t leavin’.”

She relaxed in his hold and murmured against his shirt, “Thank you.”

#valentine's day boogaloo #majimako #majima goro #makimura makoto #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #THERE WILL BE BLOOD #IN THIS FLOWERSHOP AU

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