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bumblesimagines · 5 months

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Midnight Beach

Part 19

Request: Yes or No

Taglist: @nathan-no @hyubg @ash455 @gills-lounge

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The sun hadn't risen yet, and the world around them had been reduced to a gentle blue that slowly lightened with each passing minute. Small goosebumps spread across his arms, skin cool from the early morning chill. He would've put on his shirt if a certain blonde hadn't taken it for herself sometime during the night. Sarah remained curled at his side with her head on his chest and arms loosely draped over his stomach, quiet snores escaping her.

His shirt looked bigger on her, with the hem reaching her bare thighs. The bikini top and shorts she'd been wearing the previous day rested beside them, covered in specks of sand and waiting to be put on again. He took in the silence around them, the feeling of peace and tranquility before the other Kooks began to rouse and he'd be forced to wake the girl. (Y/N) wondered what she'd say, and every thought surrounded regret.

One of the nearby tents unzipped and he tilted his head, skin flushing with embarrassment and mild shame when he noticed Liv stepping out. She paused and stared at him through squinted tired eyes, and once she processed the sight of Sarah Cameron practically sprawled out over him, she shook her head in disappointment. He released a breath and carefully pushed himself up, his movements causing the blonde to stir and grunt quietly, head groggily lifting and brows knitting in disoriented confusion.

"Get up, Sarah. We have to go home." (Y/N) told her gently, slipping from her grasp and standing up. He spotted Kelce's shirt half buried in the sand and picked it up from the ground, shaking it free of the sand and slipping it on. Not the best fit, but it'd have to do until he got home. He glanced toward the sun when it peeked over the horizon and sighed quietly, avoiding meeting Sarah's eyes as he walked around the bonfire in search of anything that any of them owned.

"I think it's common sense not to fuck your ex, especially if they're in a relationship," Liv murmured as she stopped at his side, lifting her brows at him. His heart felt heavy at her words. He didn't particularly like John B and he knew for a fact the brunette hated his guts, but he'd never wish the pain of a partner cheating on anyone.

"I wasn't exactly planning on hooking up with her, Liv. It just... happened. I can't go back in time."

"You can't go back in time but you can definitely stop it from 'just happening' again in the future, (Y/N)! Listen, I'm sure Sarah is a great friend to you and the little shitbirds she hangs out with. I'm sure she'd do anything to help you if push comes to shove. But you can't deny that all she's done since meeting those shitbirds is cause you problems. Can't you see it? I mean, look at Kie! She was a good, hardworking girl on her way to being top of her class until she went back to them and now all her parents do is worry about her wellbeing because her life has gone downhill. I.. I don't want you to end up a high school dropout who's forced to live off his parents cause of a bad friend group and some shitty decisions. You're smarter than that." She gently cupped his forearm with her palm, the hardness in her voice giving way to a softer tone. Liv stared at him with all the concern and sweetness that she reserved just for him, just for her so-called 'brother from another mother', and gave his arm a squeeze.

"Morning, ya'll," Topper's raspy, groggy voice called out from the nearby half-zipped tent. He clumsily unzipped the rest and staggered out, knuckles rubbing against his eyes and face scrunched up. Kelce's soundly sleeping form lied further within the tent, sprawled out and with a beer can resting idly next to his hand. Topper zipped the tent back up and stretched out his arms, grunting quietly and glancing around the messy beach until he caught sight of Sarah wiggling on her shorts. With eyes nearly bulging out of his head, he whipped around to look at (Y/N) with a slacked jaw.

"Don't." (Y/N) hissed sharply and Topper's mouth clamped shut, stiffly nodding but the small grin he failed to wipe off his face told him the blonde would be bringing the topic up again.

"So," Topper drawled and clasped his hands together, head turning in the direction of Sarah who pointedly refused to meet any of their eyes. "How 'bout we get ourselves some breakfast?"

The ride back to the mainland had been a deathly quiet one. With Liv nursing a growing headache, Topper frantically texting his angered mother, and the realization of what they'd done setting in for Sarah and (Y/N), none of the teens had much to say to each other. The boat eventually reached one of the many restaurants sitting at the edge of the water and Topper hopped out onto the wooden deck, making quick work of getting the boat secured. He seemed awfully upbeat and gleeful, unlike the sluggish Liv who followed him up the steps and into the restaurant.

"God, I'm starving," Topper groaned, the heavenly smell of cooking bacon wafting through the air and making (Y/N)'s stomach rumble. Sitting down at one of the many unoccupied tables, Liv took one swift look over the menu before dropping her head down on the table, with enough force to make the silverware clatter. The typical theatrics of Liv.

"She's fine." (Y/N) murmured, running his eyes over the breakfast options on the menu, the hunger toiling in his stomach only growing. With all his attention focused on it, he hardly noticed the feeling of something brushing against his knee until it happened twice, thrice, and then one last time. He shifted in his seat and tilted his legs in the other direction. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Sarah glancing up at him, her eyes glimmering from the sunlight pouring in beside her and he raised the menu further to block her from view.

"The eggs are so good here- Oh, and the french toast is fucking delicious." Topper spoke, as oblivious to the slowly forming tension as always, and continued rattling on and on about each of his favorite menu options until it began to sound like he favored all of them. (Y/N)'s lip twitched up in amusement and he exhaled softly, setting his menu down on the shiny wooden table and waiting for the waitress to pop by.

"Shit." He heard Sarah hiss quietly and he tilted his head in her direction. Sarah's eyes peeked over the top of her menu and when they connected with his, she subtly nodded her head toward the front of the restaurant. His brows furrowed slightly at the panic in her eyes and he craned his neck to peer over his shoulder, easily spotting the familiar curly-haired brunette standing by the counter. Kiara flashed the girl at the cash register a polite smile as she braced herself against the counter and began surveying the room until her attention landed on the four of them.

Kiara's lips pulled into a small smile at first and her fingers lifted to wave before her brain processed the two kooks sitting beside them. Her fingers curled toward her palm and her brows lowered, head turning away from them to grab a box and to-go order. The deep frown on her face spoke volumes, and it'd been enough to get Sarah to rise from her chair. Her hand snatched the collar of (Y/N)'s shirt and gave it a tug, causing him to sigh heavily and follow her outside.

"Kie! Kei, please, wait," Sarah called out desperately and rushed down the steps to catch up with the fast-paced brunette. "We're just having breakfast. You should come join us."

"Breakfast?" Kiara repeated, stepping down into her father's boat and setting down the box. Her long braid whipped over her shoulder when she spun around to face them, brows lifting as her mouth formed a scoff. "Sarah, you're literally wearing (Y/N)'s shirt."

"Listen, I- I had nowhere to go last night, okay? John B and I- We got into a fight and I couldn't find anyone else to stay with. We hung out at Mase with Top and Liv. That's it. Nothing else happened, I promise." Sarah stuttered out an explanation and turned to him pleadingly, the pure desperation on her face doing little to tug on his heartstrings.

"Nothing happened." (Y/N) echoed and Kiara's eyes narrowed. "Nothing happened, Kie. You don't have to worry about anything, I swear. I was actually wondering if I could bring Josie Bekkar to your parents' party. I'm sure she's already invited but I just want to double-check."

"Josie Bekkar? Wow, uhm, yeah. Go for it." The suspicion on Kiara's face dissipated in seconds and she quietly snorted under her breath, attempting to hide it by scratching the bridge of her nose. Sarah stared at him with furrowed brows and parted lips, her slightly widened eyes flickering between his. (Y/N) simply smiled and nodded toward the boat.

"You should go, Sarah. The Carreras were busy with family stuff, right? They'll probably appreciate some help setting things up. I'll drop your things off later." He casted Kiara one last glance before turning around and heading up back up the steps. Back to his real friends, his real family.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

"It's been so long since I've seen any of these people," Rachel muttered quietly as they strode further into the heart of the party. Mike and Anna's 15th anniversary, and they'd hosted a big party to celebrate their relationship and the return of their daughter. Rachel flashed her perfectly curated smile at anyone who glanced their way and heavily eyed the beverages offered for the adults. She swiped her hand over her son's arm and stepped away, approaching the Carreras with a wide, beautifully fake smile. His father, Joseph, rolled his eyes and (Y/N) began wishing he'd stayed home.

"Thanks for bringing me." Josie, right.

"It's no problem, Jo." He smiled and she giggled, flipping some hair over her shoulder and batting her eyelashes at him. Joseph grunted and muttered a quick excuse about getting food before slipping away toward the snack table. They couldn't even stay together as a family unit. (Y/N) exhaled through his nose and looked back at Josie with the same smile he'd inherited from his mother. "Thirsty?"

"Oh, yes. I'm parched."

"I'll get us some drinks, then." He slipped his hand out of hers and made his way around chatting and dancing guests until he reached the table holding the punch bowl. He only had time to get one cup before Kiara appeared at his side, voice light and high-pitched as she laughed at something someone said, then turned to him with a grimace. She casually took the cup from his hand and drank from it, sighing heavily when she looked over the people present.

"I still can't believe you brought Josie Bekkar. I mean, I get it, she looks great. Just never thought you'd be into geeks like Pope." Kiara chuckled into the cup and tilted her head back to catch the last of the punch. (Y/N) resisted the urge to bring up her own relationship with Pope and instead shrugged, retrieving another cup and pouring punch into it. Sadly for him, slim fingers wrapped around the base of the cup and swiftly took it from him.

"Seriously?" (Y/N) groaned and turned, breath nearly catching in his throat at the sight of Sarah. She smiled cheekily at him, lips glittering from the gloss she had applied, and sipped from the cup. Her typical straight hair had been curled at the ends, bringing out the fading blonde and the eye-catching brown roots settling in. She'd gone for a natural makeup look that suited her perfectly and wore the pretty yellow dress with white floral patterns he'd convinced her to buy ages ago. It stung, just slightly, to see her in it.

"You look nice," Sarah said softly, twinkling eyes dropping down to the plain white button-up he wore. He hadn't gone for anything fancy, just a simple shirt, dress pants, and dress shoes. He'd mimicked his father in unbuttoning the first couple of buttons and rolled up the sleeves the minute he felt the heat of the evening.

"You do too." He breathed and noticed Kiara's gaze flicker between them curiously. Sarah swiped her tongue over her lips and finished her cup, the previous pride on her face disappearing and replaced by a more serious look. She took in a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder for any nosy ears before stepping closer to them.

"Ward's on the island." She revealed quietly and Kiara's head shot up with widened eyes. (Y/N)'s posture stiffened. "He... He used Wheezie to send me a voice message. He gave me the key to a condo and a credit card."

"Ward's on this island? Like, the one we're on right now?" Kiara questioned, mouth agape and brows tucked in. First Rafe, who had luckily steered clear of the (L/N) house, and now Ward fucking Cameron. The dream of being home had soured into a nightmare. "Christ... I swear, the second I see him, I'm turning him in. I don't know how you deal with it, Sarah. I mean, every time I want to complain about my dad, I think about your guys' dad."

"Glad to be of service."

"So sweet of you to say, Kie."

"Anytime." Kiara grinned widely and bumped her hip against (Y/N)'s, pulling a small smile out of the teen. Sarah dug her teeth into her bottom lip as she gazed at (Y/N)'s face, watching his eyes meet hers and then flicker away while he finally poured himself two cups of punch. He glanced over his shoulder and she followed his line of sight, spotting Josie mingling with their neighbors and feeling a stabbing feeling in her gut. He turned back to them and opened his mouth to bid them farewell, but her hand shot out to grab his arm and stop him.

"I need to talk to you." She said hurriedly, fingers lightly tightening around the fabric of his shirt. (Y/N) blinked at her, still clutching the two cups in his hands. The sound of mic feedback interrupted the music and drew their attention away from each other and onto the stage where Mike and Anna Carrera stood. Mike smiled awkwardly and chuckled into the mic.

"Uhm, I just want to say a few words, and I'm not much into giving speeches, but I do want to say thank you for coming out and thank you for your support after a rough month. I want to say thank you to our daughter for being here. Hey... we love you. But most of all, thank you, Anna, for fifteen years, for making this restaurant a symbol of our life. I love you." Mike smiled widely at his wife, gazing at her with all the love in the world. Anna laughed and dipped her head bashfully before murmuring the words back to him. Mike slipped his arm around her and pulled her snugly into his side before addressing the crowd again. "Figure Eight, the Cut. Everyone's together here. As one island. So, thank you for putting up with us. Cheers."

(Y/N) watched with unsurprising bitterness as Kiara strolled over to her parents with a smile. They embraced her eagerly and cradled her in their arms, looking at her as if she hung up the sun in the sky. Anna stroked her cheek affectionately and pulled her daughter in, tenderly kissing her forehead and giggling when Kiara squirmed in her arms and groaned. He hated the prickly feeling at the back of his eyes and forced himself to look away, raising one cup to his lips and wishing it'd been tainted with some alcohol. He slipped past Sarah and returned to Josie, quietly apologizing for the delay and taking a seat on the nearest empty chair.

Pursing her lips, Josie rubbed her finger against the ridges of the cup. "I-I just have to ask, (Y/N). Are you and Sarah, like, over? I know you've been through a lot together and I know she's with that weird guy from the Cut but..."

"We're not secretly together if that's what you're asking, Jo. You-" (Y/N) sharply inhaled and propped his arm up to rub his forehead. His eyes wandered around the party until he spotted Sarah speaking to John B. His jaw twitched, threatening to clench but he forced himself to relax. "I like hanging out with you, I do. But things are really complicated right now. I just... I need to figure some things out and I don't want to string you along."

Could complicated even begin to describe the hurricane passing through this life? His parents, his new and past friends, the wild goose chases and the treasures, Sarah? Only a few months prior, he'd been a normal guy living a normal life. His only concerns were college and dealing with pompous assholes until the Pogues turned the tide, changed the course of his life, and set him directly on the path of a storm. Normalcy felt like a distant dream he wouldn't be able to attain.

Before he could drown in an ocean of self-loathing and crippling thoughts, Josie gently tilted his chin up and smiled sweetly. "We can be friends. And my first duty as your new friend is getting your mood up before Liv gets here and thinks I'm an uncool Debbie Downer." (Y/N) snorted and allowed himself to laugh, graciously taking her hand and rising up from his seat.

(Y/N) let himself enjoy the day, dancing with Josie and the others with a genuine smile on his face. Liv practically collapsed into his arms the moment she arrived and whined about the heels she wore, yet outright refused to take them off in the name of having a great outfit. Just as promised, Josie and his friends lifted his moods significantly and everything clicked into place. No danger, no running, no worrying for his life. Everything felt okay... up until he noticed Sarah chugging an unattended glass of wine with obvious tear streaks on her face. Christ, couldn't John B go a day without hurting someone's feelings?

"I'll be back." He murmured to Liv and pulled away from her side, already hearing the scolding she'd give him after the party. Swiping some napkins from a table, he approached Sarah and took the glass from her. She hiccuped softly and clumsily rubbed at her wet cheeks but her eyes remained watery with tears. He gently took her cheek and delicately dabbed at her cheeks, sighing softly.

"I'm sorry." She whispered and the hot tears slipped from her eyes. "I ruin everything. I-I fuck everything up. God, why do you even bother with me?"

"Because I care about you, Sarah. I know you're a good person at heart." He answered and dropped his hands to his sides. Her lips quivered and she sniffled again, stumbling toward him and wrapping her arms around his waist. Her head leaned against his shoulder and she buried her face in his neck, her body easing its trembles as she took in his warmth and comfort. (Y/N) draped his arm around her shoulders, content with comforting her until the crying ceased.

Glass shattered from behind him and they pulled apart to look, spotting a furious John B heading straight for them. Sarah quickly detached herself from him with a soft gasp and moved forward, quiet pleading falling from her lips as she met him halfway. Her pleading fell on deaf ears, however, seeing as he pushed her aside and gave (Y/N) a hard shove. He stumbled back and caught himself on the table behind him, a heat of anger washing over him.

"Fuck you, man." John B seethed. "I never once believed that bullshit nice guy act. You prance around here acting so great when you slept with my fucking girlfriend, you piece of shit!"

"Guess you don't like getting a taste of your own medicine, huh? But I guess I shouldn't have expected less from a guy who parties while his 'girlfriend's grieving the death of her father. Real charming of you, John." (Y/N) spat back, maintaining his tone evenly and smoothing out his crinkled shirt with the palm of his hand. John B's jaw clenched and his eyes flickered around when the people around them began murmuring lowly.

"I was giving her space!" He barked defensively.

"Did your friend give you space when you thought your dad died, asshole? No, they didn't. They stuck by you 'cause they're good people. You're just the guy who got lucky a pretty girl even spoke to him in the first place. You could learn a thing or two from Pope or J." (Y/N) liked the way John B's ears burned hot red with embarrassment and the Pogue let out a humorless, sharp chuckle.

"Of course, Mr. Perfect is lecturing me. Mr. Perfect who always knows what to say or do. Always cheers everyone up. Always has everyone wrapped around his perfect little finger. I bet you were just so perfect your parents couldn't handle it. Maybe that's why they left you alone all these years." The air escaped (Y/N)'s lungs and his shoulders deflated, the venomous words slithering around his brain. Sarah slapped John B on the arm and glared at him fiercely while Kiara hissed his name angrily. The disapproving looks sent John B's way turned pitying the second they moved onto him. Pity, always pity. He took in a breath and released it in a dry laugh.

"Then, I guess you must be perfect too considering your mom skipped town when you were a baby. I mean, shit, you've gone missing like twice now and she hasn't even bothered showing her face around here. And we certainly can't forget daddy dearest 'cause fuck, I can't imagine leaving my son to deal with all my shit and not even caring enough to reach out. I think we ought to give him a Father of the Year award for that one, don't you think?" His lips curled up into a grin and John B pushed Sarah aside one last time to lunge for him. A mop of bleached hair stepped into view, arms shoving John B back before he could get close to (Y/N). Topper pressed a hand against (Y/N)'s chest and extended the other out toward the fuming John B.

"Let's all calm down, alright? There's no need to ruin Mr. and Mrs. Carrera's day with-" Before Topper could finish speaking, John B swung his fist and connected it with Topper's jaw, hard enough for Topper to stumble and trip over his own feet. Sarah shrieked John B's name but he refused to listen, the pure rage in his eyes deadset on the fallen Kook. Topper cradled his jaw and lifted his head only for John B to swing at him again, and again, and again.

Breaking out of his momentary shock, (Y/N) darted forward and grabbed the back of John B's collar. He tore him off the unconscious Topper and while John B attempted to regain his foot, (Y/N) clocked him hard enough to knock him onto the grass with a low groan. Mike rushed in and pushed (Y/N) back as Topper's mother cradled her son's head in her lap and screamed for an ambulance to be called. (Y/N) moved to step toward John B again but Anna stepped in his way and grasped his arms.

"Baby, baby, no, that's enough." She urged softly, in the same tone she used on Kiara when she and her father argued. (Y/N) took in a couple deep breaths to calm his racing heart but his eyes watched JJ rush over and help John B up onto his feet while Mike shouted at them to get out and followed them until they left. Sarah stared at him helplessly and teary-eyed, the start of an apology forming on her lips but he turned away from her.

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x male reader #outer banks x y/n #sarah cameron #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron x you #sarah Cameron x male reader #sarah Cameron x y/n #kiara carrera #topper thornton #john b routledge #jj maybank

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chocolatepancakes · 2 years

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Hello there, Mod Choco, and Perhaps Maple too.

But this message goes mostly towards Mod Choco. Okay listen, many things have happened and many things have changed. Whatever happened in the past shouldn't affect us in the future, and honestly Choco, I missed ya too. But it hurt to see how you just unfollowed me on Tumblr because it added up to the pain that, I already lost too many friends that day :') That being said, it was a while ago so I forgave that I guess. I'd appreciate if we could just go back to where we were except there's 1 different thing. I left FNF because it caused me to think the community became more toxic. And I have no intention to harass anyone online in any way. I'm just a person, with feelings, no matter what age. I was still hurt. Though at the same time seeing ya'll happy yet without me dunno still hurt. I am back just to see your reaction and a few of others reaction. But I remember and I looked up at the old funny things we did in the past, and I remember how I was anxious but then I let go of it with a lil bit of your help, I asked those things about, nothing worldians and the fact that you replied in not such rude manners (I've dealt with rude people in the past so I was afraid sometimes of how you were going to answer...-) but that wasn't the case. So I felt more comfortable and stepped out of my anxiety shell. Now I'm like, a new person. If I were to stay you'd see what I am talking about. Also I still do music and such and I might keep my tumblr for that. If you'd follow back I'd appreciate and I might stay and consider what's in the past can just be deleted off our minds and we could be friends :') Without any further a do, and to not stretch this for too long, hope that our friend group thingy that we had could come back one day, Not that it's something official, but you and @bloo-skies and @imma-sue-you-becky and even @startheimpactfangirl made such a great team. Especially when looking back to that stickmen apocalypse thingy, it still makes me laugh. So just know that I'm not a danger or anything. I only wanted friends and I will always keep it that way. Nothing more. If you want, you can reply to this ask but if you don't you can just read it and DM after or something- But hopefully, you understand what has been happening...

Shanlix :D

I'm so glad you're back!!!

I'm sorry that I had unfollowed you and such, I thought it was best at the time as adults told me that it'd be a best choice.

I've since learned that that adult was not the greatest person, so I apologize for that.

I'm very happy you were able to come back ^^

-mod choco

#Mod choco #Shanlix #Text post #Reply

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joannasteez · 13 days

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tanks of blood (2) - accessories are meant to be worn

pairing: biker!roman reigns x black reader (mentions), biker!cody rhodes x black reader (very small hints) warning: explicit descriptions of extreme violence. cursing. no smut, sorry ya'll. authors note: next chapter will be a bit chunkier but hope u enjoy this for now! word count: 2700 tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @theninthwonder @thesamoanqueen @kill-the-artiste @empressdede @spritelucozade @gg-trini

hospitals are filled with things. life and blood and metal and these one of a kind tumultuous screams of pain. for the body was designed to heal, to be —in whatever way it chose—whole once more, but there is something to be said about such a suffering as this one. the pain that comes with pain as the body makes its painstaking trek to stability. and getting nico jeffrey—he preferred to be called nico rather than his birth name nicolas— to stable condition was hell. that particular seven pm to seven thirty am shift deserving of its own circle in dante's inferno. and of course you'd found yourself just in the middle of it, letting the mess of the job roll onto and off your shoulder. this undulating wave that was as common place in a hospital as the august summer heat. and nico jeff—because he told you to drop the end bit of his last name too, very demanding for someone in so much pain—once stabilized and no longer screaming for his life, became unnervingly quiet. the pain meds seemingly taking his words.

his eyes were alive though. flitting and observing. all that white hot pain forcibly driven into his body now a fierce anger in his gaze. and it scared the living shit out of you. forced a dread into your bones. because that silent sort of menace was familiar as air.

and the slow to simmer anxiety, this soft cautious build up of weariness is more of a drowning than any other non-fatal state of affairs. the dread rife in your blood is a drowning. a slow submergence. this flooding of the lungs. your arms and legs set in a metaphorical bout of flailing that plead in its motions for mercy. and drowning, much crueler than falling, is unhurried. this steady decline that waits for your heart to give. this suffering of morale was silent, save for the bubbling water and that warped fight of your limbs as it attempts to break above the dense weight. but of course this going under is simply a fear of the unknown. of long dead things coming back to spite you with violence. with the pain of memory. dread, here in this sterile room, does not burn your throat but it weighs over your shoulders. tiring the muscle and bones till the heaviness quickens the frenzy in your nerves. dread is ugly and haunting and throbbing, makes the paranoia sing with loud mangled beltings.

it'd been days since nico's not so grand entry. the skin of his back singed to a rawness. his body curled fetal-like at the foot of the emergency ward's automatic entry doors. his screams blood curdling, this tumultuous echo that still stains your memory, till they waned infant like. these bouts of whimpers that made him look younger than he already was.

twenty six. nico jeff was twenty six with severe third degree burns. the entirety of his back left raw and undone.

you felt for him. really you did. but the void in his eyes, the cold distance of it, sunk a weight to the base of your belly. because their sure fated chaos was not something that could be so easily taken or missed, and beyond the avoidance nestling deep in your will you knew this was them. nico jeff's suffering was all the bloodlines doing, and the slightest bit of a talk would be all the confirmation you'd need.

"how's he doing?"

donna was as personable as she was sensible you'd found out. a trauma specialist that frequented your side of one of the hospitals many pavilions. her eyes soft and inviting. flitting over things as if to read them. taking in the smaller complexities and such. the things that would otherwise go unnoticed. it was the psychologist in her, to just be in the know, to have an arresting sort of presence that called to the surface every little prickling thing that seemed to nag at your nerves. but then again it could just be the guilt. this unshakeable dose of dread given by nico jeff.

you stand next to her. the both of you looking over nico as he sleeps.

"he's stable. quiet when he's awake. cries in his sleep. barely has an appetite".

"is he saying anything when he's sleeping?"

"nothing i can make out"

and that silence sticking so closely to his pain is the very base of the knots twisting your belly. most, in the trouble of their own pain, would sing for the sake of discovering some relief. this very odd sort of bargaining. a submission of the self—the giving in of a heavy weight—for the taking on of something lighter. you'd seen it before. men torn by wounds and struck by bullets, their eyes overdone with tears and their lips trembling as their words styled themselves with pleads for mercy to no one in particular but to anyone who would hear them. and you'd gotten so used to that, to those loud overflowings of guilt, that nico's silence scares you whole. the brevity in his words possibly covering up something that would for sure give this limbo of dread true meaning. it would give your ill feelings a name. maybe even a body and a face. but yet the curiosities still remain. details of what proceeded such a violent affair. it seems that no one but you cares to know anything.

"the cops are draggin they feet on doing up a report. i mean, he's been here like three days now". your curiosities falling over donna. the neutrality of her eyes a bit jarring. "that's not a little off to you?"

she turns. her head tilting with a regard you can't make out.

"how long you been in pensacola?"

"a few months. a little over two".

"you moved here because of the job right?"

"i did"

the lie slipping off your tongue with a nasty pacing. the words thick in your throat and heavy in your mouth. tasting similar to bile.

"and it's ok right? as good as any hospital job could be?"

"yeah, no its- it's fine".

"good". the soft brown of her stare piercing even in its gentleness. "the less time you spend asking questions, the better. you clock in, do your thing, you clock out. it ain't worth it being curious beyond that".

and with her leave she takes some of the air with her. but donna doesn't know, along with the affects of such fair advice —and how could she?—that the sum total of your young adult life was looking the other way. enjoying the spoils of brutal little street wars. being quiet even with the mounting burden of questions. and God were the questions endless, rife with a heaviness and breathing to live all their own.

it all made the silence that much more insufferable to bear. and maybe thats why the hospital was such a sanctuary. what with its blood and metal and tumultuous noise. a forced clashing against the thick quiet. something to busy the mind. but those hours just before the break in your shift bring back that force of stillness. the endless questions and the dread.

and it's 6:37 in the morning now, nicolas jeffery awake and his coarse tired voice low and cold as it leaves him.

"it's better the cops don't give a fuck". but he never meets your eyes. forever staring out the window. "they'd make the shit worse anyways".

awake all that time, listening. the thought of no justice more of a relief to him than not, and it shows well in his shoulders. the way his breathing steady's. or maybe it's the morphine. or both. but you can't tell. because he won't look at you.

"you wear turtle necks a lot", he notes. and through you runs a shiver. "coverin' up them job stoppers huh?", a small smile through his lips.

"it gets cold on this floor".

his eyes flitting, from the window to you, but not really to meet you. working rather through you. making an estimation about the area where your turtle neck curls over to cover the column of skin where your pulse lives. as if expecting something to reveal itself. to prove that his curiosities are not in vain.

your fingers itch to move. twitching as you rub the area. a scratch that relieves the odd spark left behind over the patch of flesh beneath the thin fabric. feeling the heat pool before it throbs. a sensation that only comes with the weight of eyes on the skin. instinct attuned to interest. nico's interest.

"m' gonna sleep", he mumbles.

you nod. leaving him to drift as he stares out the window.

memories are weird. stored at times in forgotten simpler places. often oddly undone. a selfish rearrangement to better suit pride. to better suit nostalgia. memories are preferred because they can be reshaped. overworked to hell till they're rewritten, remade. so when you tell cody "i prefer you brunette", it's not because you hate the blonde. it's just because time has flown both too slowly and too quickly. all those crazy nights of young adult mischief stored in brunette hair. in the stark contrast of it against the icy blue of his eyes. but he's older now, blonde and less boyish. face lines about his eyes and his jaw set tighter. as if always clenched. stressed and on edge. and maybe beneath such selfish preferences is that sinking feeling. something like regret. having missed the change. from brunette to blonde.

his fingers skim the ways of his cropped hair. cheeks dusting pink. a small smile that barely shows his teeth. "you don't like it?"

"it's different".

"sometimes different is good".

"yeah, sometimes".

but there are somethings that don't change. these little complexities that preserve themselves. and cody still does that nagging thing with his eyes. a taking in like he's looking for something. for a fault, but not like an error no. more like discontentment. something to fix. to make right. and you know this only because his thumb is doing the fidgeting thing. a soft spreading over the knuckles that tames urgency. restlessness. the waiter had gotten your burger wrong twice—first time too undercooked and the second time too over—and his thumb wouldn't stop pressing into his palm. it drove you crazy. it didn't stop his looking though, searching for other things, and the icy blue way his urges fall over your body make the dread in your belly worse. because if he's looking for shit, he'll eventually find it. wring it out of you softly. put warmth and worry behind the natural cold of his looking and pry it out.

"how's the job holding up?"

and his voice. a little deeper than the last time you heard it. and sure that was only months ago, but it's different here. lives against the buzz of fluorescent lights in a way thats not familiar. his words filling the air just a half step slower. like he was purposely controlling his tongue.

or maybe it isn't new. maybe its just a sweet addition to the focus in his eyes. maybe thats a thought to plead the fifth to now and dig up for examination later.

"regular hospital mess. nothing new". plucking a fry up off the plate to bite at. the heat in your cheeks rising. his lips going up with a small spread. his smile not as big as it used to be, but present enough still. you meet him again. unable to not return the simple gentle gesture. "what?"

"just...", making to say something and then pivoting. "i'm happy you're here".

"yeah? wouldn't know that, considering i called, and then again and again, and then another time-"

"yes. i know. radio silent", a deep heavy sigh. and against his face rises a wall. being as remorseful as he can be, but that's as much as he'll give. thats what his body says when he leans back into the both. releasing whatever sort of intimacy there was, where he was oh so happy to see you. "i got busy".

and it was a few months of a small plan. lighter communication than usual but you didn’t question it much. short text and brief calls. just a simple coordination to make the trip back into pensacola, back home, not so big and formal. especially since it not being seen or heard about was the idea. specifically not seen or heard about by roman-

"i think he's figuring it out. if he doesn't know yet".

the ball living freely in your gut tightens. you didn't like the mess of this. "how do you mean?"

"he's always been a bit of a dick, just more than usual. icing me out of shit..." and cody keeps the vagueness there of course. "....i think he's havin' one of the guys tail me....".

your eyes roll. "explains you being MIA".

"...makin me babysit prospects and do shop upkeep for fucks sake. do i look like a damn bookkeeper?”

cody wasn't saying it. but you heard it clearly. and it made that space on your neck heat. the same patch of skin that nico jeff tried to uncover with just the cold hard distance of his eyes. a slight burning that spread through till it was creeping over and out onto your chest. but it didn't feel good. it sweltered the skin. vexed the nerves.

"is this you blaming me?"

"m'not blaming you". his fingers spreading over his face. obviously frustrated. "he's just being petty. he's the king of that shit. makin unnecessary trouble".

"m'not tryin to cause trouble for you".

"anymore".

all caution and ease to the air siphoned. and the pooling heat solders deeper. beneath nerves till its melting at the dense make of your bones. the offense of it written in your face. "what?"

but he's dying on his little hill about it. "you don't wanna cause trouble anymore".

"are you kidding me?"

"all of us. everything we all had was everything and you left and unleveled shit". his jaw tightening. "and now you're back, and it's shakin shit up again".

"is this a fight? you wanna do this now?" we're really gonna revise the history of this like what i did was so awful?"

"don't be dense", his tone stinging. venturing deep into an arena that is all too familiar. patronizing and corrosive. "you breathing is permission enough for him to upturn shit. enough for any of them, enough for...", catching words just before their end. but theres no pivoting away this time. "it's enough for me", but it does not quell the anger easing deeper. it just becomes a faithful addition to the list of things to leave for examination later. "so if you wanna be back home, you gotta be open and honest about it. about the way you affect things. affect people".

he wants honesty?

"you gotta give a little to get it cody, but that's fine, because i've been havin a pretty shit few days actually. stuck takin care of some kid whose burnt up all over his back and nobody's doing anything about it", your fingers curling in till the nails sink into your palms. scrutiny this heavy bleeding out of your eyes. "and now i can't help but to connect the dots on it all and its just leadin to a certain someone with a propensity for violent bullshit". because that never changed, beyond memory and whatever else. they still seemed to have a hard on for mess. "lets be real yeah? there was always trouble. i left, i'm back, it's still here".

"ask your question". like a parent to a child. finally giving such coveted permission. "ask".

"was it you?"

"no"

"was it the bloodline? was it him?"

he softens. but only slightly. "you wear accessories, you don't become one. that's what my father always said".

"real nice. you're such a well of wisdom".

"it kept my mother out of crosshairs, did the same for yours". his eyes filling with scrutiny. harsh and irritated. "and the girl i knew way back when understood that. don't ask!", his frustration peaking. proving itself in his tone. a rain down of what feels like disappointment. "you went up north to wherever and got your head screwed up with all this moral high ground bullshit".

"well i'm so very sorry for having a conscience cody".

you weren't wrong. you preferred him brunette.

some slightly new developments… let me know what you think!

#biker au #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #mostly mentions of roman #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black reader #cody rhodes #cody rhodes fic #cody rhodes fanfic #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes x black reader #lots of cody in the chapter #joannasteez

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huffle-dork · 6 years

Photo

Oh no Anti got to all the Septic boys!! :O

Bonus pain:

>;3c

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rrasado · 4 years

Text

• Yesterday's Captain, today's Admiral •

(Headcanon with an Immortal MC who used to be a pirate and a former Captain Levi cause ya'll can't convince me that the Grand Admiral of Hell's Navy didn't became a pirate at one point. Ft. Spain Romano and America from Hetalia)

Grand admiral Leviathan, the most feared and respected of the Hellish seas.

But it wasn't always that way, in fact, he used to stir so much trouble for others who share the seven seas with him. Recalling one event in particular...

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

"OY Bastard Captain! Our food stock's running out, at this rate the whole crew will starve"

Captain Carriedo looked up from the old map in his hands to be met with olive green eyes of his first mate.

"It's fine Lovino, we're set to arrive on the island in a few hours, by then we're meeting with Captain (L/N) for the trade"

The Italian left the captain's cabin after muttering a few curse words under his breathe. Carriedo could only laugh in amusement at the boy's antics before diverting his attention back to the map.

'I herd theres another ship that sails around these parts...'The Royal Hydra' they call it, led by a man of royal purple hair who's name is comparable to the nightmare of the seas. I really do hope we don't run into them, It'd be a hassle to fend off territorial Pirates.'

He stood up and grabbed his familiar red coat, putting on his large hat in the process. Walking up to the deck he saw his whole crew scurrying at the sight of their captain.

"Listen up! We'll be docking on the island in an hour so I suggest you all prepare mi amigos! Make sure to have your weapons ready at any given time!"

The confused glances among the crew garnered the spanish captain to continue.

"There's a chance we'd...run into territorial waters. I wouldn't want mi crew to be helpless if that happens noh?"

And with that the diverse crew dispersed to get ready.

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

"Captain (L/N)! We're almost near the island. The crew already prepped the luggage and armory"

Said captain nodded at the blonde as they loaded their pistols with ammo, latching them to the sides of their pants making sure they're hidden under their (F/C) coat,

"Thank you Alfred, Let's gather the crew on deck, A little birdie told me that 'The Castilla' and 'The Alexandrite' aren't the only ships in these waters"

The boy only nodded before sprinting towards the deck leaving the Captain to their thoughts.

"I wonder how's Carriedo doing..."

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

The young first mate rushed through the ship panting once he reached the spaniard.

"Oy Bastard Captain! The Island's in sight!"

Carriedo's eyes shined with delight as he stood from his chair.

"Gracias Lovi! Now go tell the-"

*BOOM*

The sound of canon fire shot through the air as the spanish captain and Italian sprinted towards the deck, only to be met with absolute chaos.

"Well, well, well.. So you're the intruders my dear Lotan told me about, who do you think you are?"

That's when Carriedo noticed the grand ship a few distance away from 'The Castilla". There on the crow's nest stood a young man with regal purple hair grinning menacingly at the spaniard.

'That must be The Royal Hydra... and that must be The great Captain Leviathan'

"BASTARD WATCH OUT!"

Without even realizing Lovino pushed Carriedo in the nick of time as a cannonball flew to where the captain was previously standing, the duo standing up as quickly as possible when Levi's crew began swinging towards The Castilla.

"ARMS AT THE READY MI AMIGOS!"

The two crews whipped out their weapons swinging at their enemy with precision.

'Gah! At this rate the ship might sink! We didn't even see his ship coming! It's as if it emerged from water!'

At the corner of Lovino's eyes he saw Capatin Leviathan landing on their deck ready to aim his sword at their captain's back. The Italian's eyes saw it yet his body didn't react quickly.

'Sh*t the bastard's gonna-

*CLASH*

"W-what the"

The spaniard felt someone leaning against his back as he slowly turned his head

"My my, to attack someone from behind in such a manner, a dirty move for the rumored great Leviathan don't you think?"

Levi gritted his teeth as his sword met a platinum blade. The one wielding the blade shot a cheeky smile at Carriedo as they push Levi away from them.

"Good thing we made it in time Toni am I right?"

The spaniard chuckled as he flashed a cheerful smile at his savior

"Gracias (L/N)!"

"WHO IN DIAVOLO'S NAME ARE YOU?!"

Leviathan pointed his sword threateningly at (Y/N) as said captain raised their brow at his choice of words but answering nonetheless.

"The Alexandrite's Captain, at your service"

God the sickeningly sweet grin on (Y/N)' face was enough to infuriate Levi as he traded blows with them. (Y/N) kept dodging his sword as they danced a fierce battle nearly running out of breath with the speed they're going.

"Oi Carriedo! Save your spanish ass and go on board The Alexandrite! I'll meet my crew and yours on the Island!"

Carriedo nodded reluctantly as he and his crew slowly retreated to his friend's ship.

Levi cound only feel envious of the friendship between the two intruding Pirates as he gripped his blade tighter.

'Tsk they really are a pain'

(I👏CAN👏NOT👏WRITE👏FANFICTION)

(YA'LL I'M NOT EVEN A LEVI STAN BUT LEVI WITH A PONYTAIL CAN STEP ON ME AND I'D SAY THANK YOU. For real tho I didn't have time to finish the sketches so deal with the half baked drawings)

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