Does anyone have fanfics of the following characters:
Abe Guevara
Brock Rumlow
Leo Barnes
Wheelman
Terry Malone
Mark Corley
Roy Pulver
But posted on Tumblr because I'm looking for add them to my recommend list on here as you know that’s the way I support writers on this platform. Let me know or tag me, please.
Another One-Shot for a Frank Grillo Character. I absolutely LOVE Point Blank, so of course I had to write a One-Shot about it. This one is somewhat different from what I usually write. Because of the emotions in this one. I decided to make it a Self Insert, instead of my usual Readers Insert. I hope that you´ll love it anyway.
DISCLAIMER: I own my Alter Ego Talia (provided by @kitsune-raven), but unfortunatly I do not own Abe´s character)
HAPPY READING!
Being suicidal. It's not only about wanting to take your own life. Sometimes it's about taking that last drink, hoping that you'll die of alcohol poisoning. Sometimes it's about not quit smoking, hoping that you'll get lunge cancer. Sometimes it's about not eating. Sometimes it's about not bothering to put your seatbelt on in your car, when you speed up on the freeway. Sometimes it's about just not give a damn. Sometimes it was about living inside of my head. Sometimes it was that suffocating feeling of depression, eating me up from the inside, piece by piece. And as for me, I wanted it to eat me up. Praying each night for God (if he exists) to not let me wake up the next day. That never happened. Every day I woke up, to my shit show of a life. Working that same boring job, that I hated, for minimal wage. Having to turn every single dime, to make sure it would get me to my next pay check.
Friends? I didn't even know what that was. Co-workers, yes. Online friends, yes. Friends, real living friends, no. The few I managed to get through the years either left me, or got their lives together. Or both. By now I've given up. Screw life. I might come off as hard, and that was kinda my intent. People scared me. From experience they hurt me, so to keep the few pieces left of my soul, safe. I kept them at arms length. If anyone got too close, I shut them off. And not always in a nice way.
Boys? Men? Yes. I had that. A lot of it. Didn't care. They got what they wanted, I got what I needed. Like a trade deal. It worked. It didn't exactly make me feel any better. But other than that, it worked. I was fucked up anyway, so what was another dick, other than just that, another dick?
Psychiatrist? No, no way in hell. To give my whole tragic little life story to a person who's JOB was to listen. Who got payed to listen. Payed to give advice. Advice that didn't work anyway. Because they had no idea, no fucking clue what was going on in my head, in my life. They didn't understand. How could they? How could anyone understand? Fuck, half of the time I didn't even understand why I did the things I did. Fucked up. I told you I was fucked up.
Usually my days were pretty OK, monotone, but OK. Usually I did everything on auto pilot. Most of the time I didn't even feel how tired I was. But some days. Some days, everything shattered around me. Like a bomb went off and blew out every single one of my windows. Like my walls was being tored down by a wrecking ball, and I had no idea how to stop it.
And that particular day. That day I Met Abe. That was one of those days. The worst I've had in months. One of those days, I just wanted to give up. And if it wasn't for my strange fucked up caring for other people. I'd put my car head on into a semi truck that day. But I didn't, instead I took it to a carwash. Don't ask me why I decided to wash my car the same day I planned on ending it all. We all do stupid shit. So don't ask, just listen to the story I'm about to tell you.
It wasn't the first time that week I woke up in a bed that wasn't mine. I lost count of how many it'd been. Didn't matter anyway. Last night this semi blonde guy gave me what I needed in those 5-7 minutes. It was OK. Not the best I've had, but, not the worst either. This was kinda where I was at the moment. Kept on finding the ones that seemed to consistent be in the middle of the pack. Easy guys. Boring guys. Fuck it!
I hit the shower. I should probably just walk out of there, before he woke up, but I needed a shower. And he didn't care about me, any more than I cared about him. I locked the door to the bathroom. I really didn't want him in there. He was average. Not too big either. Just enough to satisfy that hole in me. Some people use food to fill the empty place inside. Me? Guess I used sex. At least that kept me somewhat skinny, combined with the fact that the money I had almost just covered rent. Pasta was basically my diet by now.
I don't exactly know, what happened in there in that shower that morning. But something broke inside of me. And I cried, and cried, and cried. My tears mixed with the water in the shower, washing them away before they even got the chance to roll down my cheeks. But I felt them. This is it Talia. I told myself. Today, this is it. This is no life. You can't go on like this. So just end it. Fuck everything. It'll never get better anyway, right? So there's no use.
I made sure that there was no evidence of my tears, before I left the bathroom. He was already awake. Of course he was. Sitting by his coffee table with a coffee cup. Looking at me.
- You want a cup?
- Nah..
I answered. Looking at the cup again.
- I'll just buy one from Starbucks or something.
I looked away from him as I picked up my purse, and made sure everything was still in there. Then I quickly moved towards the door.
- You want my phone number?
He asked. Pathetic..
- Why?
My voice might have sounded harder then I originally intended it too. But, fuck it. I was never gonna talk to this guy again anyway.
- We just slept together!
He looks at me. God! Like that will matter in a day of two. Like he'll ever even use my number.
- Again, why?
I didn't let him say anything else. I just left. Maybe I should have given him my ex's number or something. Why do I hate being mean? Everyone is always mean to me, so why does me being mean make me feel like crap? I kicked a trash as hard as I could, before I got into my car.
My original plan was to wrap my car around a tree or something. And I can't really tell you what happened. But for some fucked up reason, I decided to wash my car first. Maybe it was that little voice in my head telling me to give it one last shot. Or maybe it was me, wanting to put some make up on before I decided to meet the man upstairs. Either way, it was one of the best choices I've ever made. Coincidence? Maybe. Devine intervention? Could be. Either way. That choice, that little choice to drive my car through the local carwash, for my last dimes. That was the choice that saved me. Guess it wasn't my time that day. Guess my destiny was greater than that.
Inside the carwash, I put my music on, cranked the volume up to max. Shut the world out. It made me feel a little better. Music had a tendency to work that way. Made me smile. Although the smile didn't feel genuine. I had literally nothing to smile about. A forced smile, brought on by the music. Fuck it!
The music was probably why I didn't hear what was happening in the carwash, and me putting my make up on was probably why I didn't see anything.
I didn't notice anything before I drove out of the machine. I had to stop the car, see if it was clear for me to drive. Turned the music down. Then, there was a tap on my window. I tried to ignore it. Probably an addict looking for a fix. Another tap. Fuck this shit!
I fished up my wallet, as I opened the window. Didn't look at whoever was standing outside.
- Take it all! I don't need it.
I said, while putting my open hand with whatever was in my wallet out the window.
- Mam, I need your car!
Oh for fucks sake! I need this car. Being robbed was so just what I needed right now.
- I have pepper spray in my purse!
I say, slowly turning my head towards the voice. The guy leans onto my car, looking at me.
- I have a gun in my pants!
His eyes, brown, dark hair, strong features. Jesus!
- Why don't you use it?
I say, not breaking eye contact. Showing him that I'm not one to mess with right now. I don't fucking care if he blows my brains out. Truth be told, it will be amazing if he does.
Before I get to think anymore, or say anything else. He showes his gun in my face. And for some strange reason, it scares me. I can't explane why. I was determined to leave this world. So why was this so scary?
He gets in the back seat, pushes the gun agains my ribs.
- Drive!
Of course I could have denied. I could have done that. If I did he'd probably shoot me, take my car, and my pathetic excuse for a life would be over. But... Instead I started to drive. Again, don't ask me why. I don't have an answer as to why I did that...
He guides me to an abandon building. Tells me where to stop, and then instructs for me to exit the car. The whole time he has his gun pointed at me. It's not like I was scared. Not really. But it was kinda uncomfortable. And I HATE to be uncomfortable.
- Do you think I'm scared of that?
I say, looking at his gun. He looks down at it as well, before putting it back into his pants.
- I had to make sure you'd cooperate!
- You could've just asked!
I say, before turning around to get my purse out from my car. When I turn towards him again, the gun is back in his hand. Pointed at my forehead.
- Keep the fucking pepper spray in your purse!
I roll my eyes at him.
- Paranoid, much?
I ask, as he comes all the way up to me, pushing me against my car. Dragging his gun down my cheek, before placing it under my chin. Looking into my eyes.
- That smart mouth of yours will get you into trouble, you know!
His eyes locked on mine. He sounds hard, but at the same time, there is a softness there.
- Oh, please. If you wanted to kill me you'd done so already!
He takes one step away from me. Looks at me. Assessing me.
- I need help!
He says. Before he once again puts his gun back in his pants.
- Yeah.. You and me both..
I mutter under my breath. I couldn't help it, the words just fell out of me, and I prayed to higher power that he didn't hear me.
- What kinda trouble are you in?
He asks, as he drags his shirt over his head. Turns around and picks up a bag from the floor.
I can't take my eyes away from his bare upper body. I've seen a lot of them. Bare upper bodies that is. Usually they were pretty common. Some had muscles, some had six packs. Some were skinny. Usually nothing much to rest your eyes on. But this guy. Seriously fit. Like nothing I've ever seen before. I don't even realise that he looks back at me.
- What? Never seen a guy undress before?
I can't find the right words, so instead I just shake my head.
- Well, you're in for a treat!
He says teasingly, before removing his pants as well.
His thighs is just as fit as the rest of him. Probably just muscle. Fuck!
- Change!
He says, and throws some clothes over to me. Looks like a cop uniform. I lift it up. Look at it. It has everything. Even a badge, and it looks real.
- You want me to wear this?
He comes over to me again.
- Well, I need help. You seem like a good enough person to help me.
- Don't count on it..
I say, mixed with a laugh.
- What's that supposed to mean? You're going to wear a uniform. It's not so hard.
I send him a little smile. One of those fake ones, I know all to well.
- I keep fucking everything up. You'd be safer with someone else.
He looks down on my body. And suddenly I'm very aware that he's only wearing his boxers. Why am I intimidated by this guy? It's not like I wasn't familiar with naked guys. It's actually one of the very few things I know. I've never experienced a naked guy that looks like this though, or one with a gun.
- So...
He says, unzipping my jacket.
- You like to fuck shit up?
He continues, while removing my jacket. Carefully sliding it off my shoulders.
- You might just come in very handy for me then...
His hands carefully starts to unbutton my blouse. I swallow, looking down on his hands, then up at his face. Totally focused on the buttons on my blouse. I should probably have stopped him. But I didn't. This you can ask me why. Sex was something I knew. Something I wasn't afraid of. So I just let him. Keeping my arms by my side. Just looking at him, unbuttoning my blouse, before carefully pushing that as well down from my shoulders.
- You can touch me, you know...
He says, looking into my eyes again. Taking my hands, and placing them on his chest. I look down on my hands on his chest. Noticing the bulge growing in his boxers. What the fuck am I doing? This wasn't what I planned should happen today.
- What do you say about me fucking you up a bit before you start to fuck things up?
He continues, as his hands reach the lining of my jeans, unbuttoning it, before sitting down, and removing them. Once again I let him. Carefully removing my legs from my pants. One at a time. Why not get some dick before I leave this world?
- Sit down on the hood!
He commands, as he gets back up.
- What?
- The hood!
He says again, as he grabs my hair, drags me to the front of the car, and pushes me face first down on the hood. And I can't deny that I enjoy this rough treatment. And again, sex is something I know.
He carries on to dry fuck me a couple of times. I'm about to give up the whole thing, when he leans over me, grabs my hair once again, moves my face to the side, and let his tongue glide over my face.
- Tell me to stop, and I will..
He says. Still dangerously close to my face.
- Why would I tell you to stop?
He grits his teeth to me, before moving his mouth down to my ear, growling like a lion into it.
I try to turn around, but he holds me in place. Strong grip, but not so strong that it hurts.
His lips on my ear, sends shivers down my spine. Usually sex was just OK. Nothing much to scream about. But this. I was dripping already, and he hadn't even touched me down there yet.
- Mmmmm..
I couldn't hold back my moans, even if I wanted to.
Without a word he pulls my underwear aside, and enters me. I was so focused on his breath in my ear, that I didn't even notice that he took his underwear off.
- Aaaa.. Fuck!
He grunts, as he slowly and carefully pushes himself deeper and deeper inside me. Shit! This is something totally new to me. Usually the men I'm with focus soley on their own pleasure. Never once stopped to think about what I wanted, what I needed or what I liked.
- Fuck, this feels good!
I can hear myself say. I have no idea how I even managed to get the words out.
- I know! So soft!
He answers, resting his body on top of me. Before he starts to move. My moans echoing in the abandoned building. Fuck! How good this feels. I haven't had this kind of experience in forever. Not since...
- I fucking love how you feel around my cock!
He grunts, as his hand once again finds my hair, and grabs a hold of it. As he leans into me.
- Fuck me!
I answer, with the few breath I manage to use for words, and not moaning.
- So good and tight around me. FUCK!
He says again, before thrusting upwards, filling me to my very core. Hitting every single spot on his way there. My legs are about to give in under me, as he keeps up his pace, and his hard, deep thrusts inside me.
I can feel it building up, even before it hits my lower stomach. I bet that even my toes were shaking.
- Yes! FUCK ME!
I scream out, with the breath I have left. Before the orgasm takes over my body completely. He literally have to grab a hold of me, to keep me from plummeting to the floor.
Not long after, I can feel him finishing too. Pumping his warm, sticky fluids inside me, before he eventually pulls himself out. Turns me around. And place a kiss on my lips.
- I'm Abe. By the way!
I need a second to catch my breath, before I manage to answer. Fucking hell that was amazing. Almost like a drug. Already now, I want more.
- Talia!
I answer, before taking yet another deep breath.
- OK, Talia!
He says, extending his hand. I take it.
- Let me tell you what I need you to do!
Then he tells me everything, as we both get into our Cop clothes. I kinda feel like I'm about to celebrate Halloween. But with what he's telling me, I get that this is nothing like Halloween.
He needs help to stop a prison transport. Break his brother out of prison. And we need to be dressed as cops, to intercept the car, and make them believe that we are the ones to transport him the rest of the way. Sounds easy enough. Although I have no idea how a cop behaves. But I kinda hope that he does.
The interception went well enough. Of course with illegal stuff there's always a thing or two that goes wrong. Thankfully Abe had experience with this kind of things, and had a backup plan for every single little setback. Spun my unorganised head around. But in a strange way, being with him, although he was worlds apart from my life, made me feel safe. Like I finally found a home. I didn't even know what a home, a psychological home felt like. Abe just effortlessly made me feel calm.
We didn't share that many words. So don't ask me how or why I felt that way. Maybe it was the intenseness of how we met? Maybe it was the fact that he, and his gun, saved my life that day. Or maybe I really fell in love with him. But how could I? I didn't even know him. A brief meeting, and well the physical... thing... Fuck it. I didn't even know what love was. Damaged goods as I was. Besides, I didn't fall in love. At least not for real.
He kept in touch though. No matter where he was in the world. He told me what he was doing. Small stuff. Like friends. I wanted to be there with him. Still wanted my life to change. But those suffocating feelings dissipated more and more after he entered my life. That wish to disappear from the world, that wish just vanished. I danced to music again. And the need to fill that emptiness inside, wasn't there anymore, simply because the emptiness was gone.
Just as fast as they came. They disappeared. And even though I feel this, every day I feel it. I still can't believe that ONE SINGLE person, that you don't even know. Can have that kind of enormous impact in your life.
Author's note: While my focus has been elsewhere, I had a little inspiration, thanks to all the hard work that @thefasstasticvoyage is doing for her Smutober attempt. While I can't write smut, I at least got something for Grillo done. You give so much awesome content, I wanted to be able to give you something else. We've only touched on Abe a few times but I know we both enjoy this character. So here it is. Hope this is okay and you enjoy.
The dogs settled down for the night, the house locked up, and all of your work for the coming week finished, you finally had allowed herself some time to relax. That meant a movie on the laptop, a pint of ice cream, and the comfortable new pajamas that you had picked up a few days ago. A reward for everything that had flown at you over the last few weeks. A couple issues with the house, the car, one of the dogs getting sick, and some trouble at work had to be handled all on your own. Somewhat unwillingly on your own but that was a moot point now.
Ice cream finished and movie almost done, you could feel sleep starting to set in, eyes feeling heavy. You tried to shift for your laptop, at least you thought you did. The vague sounds of the movie still playing reaching your ears. The comfort of the bed was too much to overcome.
The sound of the door slamming downstairs pulled you right out of your sleep. A well of panic started before it could be stopped but it was forced down as you quickly reached for your gun. Rolling out of bed, you carefully moved to the door, peeking out of the sliver of an opening. There wasn't any movement, any sign that there was a person outside the room, in the house. It was an uncomfortable feeling. There was definitely a slam of your door, someone had most certainly come into your house.
"Y/N?" You could have groaned. It wasn't any sort of intruder. Well, not in any sort of bad way at least.
"Mateo?" You left the room, heading towards where the man was standing, finding him in the kitchen as you normally did. "Jesus Christ. What have I told you about slamming the door so late at night?" He looked sheepish, as he often did when you had to chastise him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he offered with a wince. "I know I'm supposed to call. I didn't mean to freak you out." It was incredibly hard to be upset or stay mad at him. Unlike his brother.
"I know you didn't. I just don't want to accidentally shoot you one of these days." You dropped the gun to the table and moved over to get a better look at him. "You look like you need a shower and a good meal." He laughed and looked down, the shy smile on his face. Really, he was still a kid in a lot of ways. You shooed him out to get cleaned up. The clothes were in the same place that they always were, waiting for him and his brother. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and waking yourself up fully, you moved to get a meal set up for him. With Mateo here, it meant that it could be awhile before Abe ended up showing up. The younger brother showed up, it meant that he needed a safe place to lay low.
*****
And that was how it went for a few weeks. Mateo stayed with you, hanging out for the majority of the day in the house, occasionally heading out for more of who knew what. You didn't bother pressing too hard. You didn't like to know everything. While you weren't in the dark, it was better in the end to claim innocence if something were to happen.
By the end of the first month, Mateo had gotten nervous. By the six week mark, it was obvious he was beginning to panic. Admittedly, you were too since neither of you had heard from Abe. You couldn't show it though, wanting to give him some sense of comfort. It had been the longest span of time that you hadn't heard from the man.
Mateo had let you know when he was halfway out the door that he was going to look for Abe. You couldn't stop him, not when you could understand the worry that he was feeling.
"Be safe," you murmured as he was out the door. You had the day off tomorrow, which meant that now that the house was now empty again besides you and the dogs. You didn't really know what to do with yourself. At least having Mateo there meant someone to take care of and preoccupy your mind.
"Okay boys. Guess it's just us again." You looked towards the dogs. After a second of tail wagging, both headed off to find a spot to lay down. You found yourself laughing softly. Well, that was your answer to that. You were really on your own. So, a shower sounded like a good idea.
You had just finished up, towel wrapped around your body when the door opened. You jumped, clutching at the towel, thinking Mateo was back and getting ready to scream at him when Abe came stumbling through the door. You were caught off guard. A laugh came from him as he looked at you. Amusement was the last thing on your mind. It had been nearly three months since you had last heard from him.
"Abraham, you better get out of this bathroom. Now." Voice stern, you didn't want to give him any sort of idea that you were okay in the moment.
"Babe…"
"Out, now." He wanted to protest again and you decided to throw the body poof that you had at him, knowing it wouldn't hurt but get your point across.
"Okay, okay. I'm out." He held his hands up. You groaned, looking towards the ceiling in an attempt to gather yourself. He just waltzed in her like nothing was wrong. It took only a moment to move. You were thankful he wasn't in the bedroom, shifting to get dressed quickly lest he end up disappearing again.
He was in the living room, a glass of whiskey already in hand. You shook your head and moved to stand in front of him. He tried to offer you a smile.
"It's been almost three months Abe. Three months. I don't need to know much but fuck, it would be at least nice to know your alive. Especially when you're brother is here, worried out of his mind about you since he hadn't heard from you either," you laid into him, not holding back. "He left an hour ago to look for you. Did you at least let him know you were here."
"Not yet. Saw that he was here."
"God, sometimes you are such a piece of shit Abe." You groaned out. Having to move away from him, you moved to get yourself some water.
"Ah, come on Y/N," he pleaded. The footsteps told you that he was following. "I know it's been a long time. And I'm sorry. But there was a lot going on, things that had to be taken care of. Was trying to avoid another stint. It was safer not to call you." Warm, familiar hands rested on your hips. Warm breath on your neck followed. As angry as you wanted to be, and still were, you relaxed into the touch.
"It's been months. Even just a text from a burner phone letting me know that you were alive Abe. Anything." His arm moved around your waist now, his frame pressing further against yours.
"Couldn't risk it. I'll call Mateo now, okay? He was fine, he was with you. That means you were both safe. Then me and you can head to the bedroom." You rolled your eyes but found yourself smiling softly. When he said that he was doing it to keep you safe, then you did believe him. But like you had said, just knowing he was alive would have eased your worry.
"I know I'm a piece of shit babe. But I'm your piece of shit, right?" You huffed but reached down to squeeze his arm, turning your head to kiss his cheek.
"Go let your brother know you are okay, you jackass." He kissed you softly before stepping back. Now you could at least relax knowing that he was here and in one piece.
Abe’s new neighborhood is nice and normal with its picket fences and lush green lawns. His neighbors are typical families with soccer moms, grill master dads, and problematic children. Abe must admit he feels out of place. Maybe that’s why he feels so drawn to the weirdo mailman.
The first time Abe met him, Sam was rolling on the neighbors’ lawn with their dog. Initially, he thought he was being attacked, but then he saw the mailman bite the dog who whined unhappily, and Abe understood it was the other way around. The dog kind of deserved it for shitting on his lawn, but Abe intervened, mostly because he was concerned about the mailman’s mental health.
It turned out Sam’s only problem is being dumb as a rock. And irresistibly cute.
Well, the latter is more Abe’s problem. He could be Sam’s father, he’s that much older. He couldn’t stop himself from flirting with him, though. He thought it’d be harmless; why would Sam even go for someone so old?
Well, Abe still doesn’t know why, but he did.
Even now, after Sam was fired for biting dogs (no surprise here), he keeps coming to Abe’s home for—well, for sex. Mainly. Sometimes they cuddle on the couch. Abe can’t help but wonder if he’s not taking advantage, but it’s not like he’s trying to manipulate Sam, and he seems happy with their arrangement.
Abe knows who it is when he hears the bell ring—no one else ever visits him. Sam greets him with a kiss.
“I’m leaving,” he says, and Abe blinks in surprise. “My friend died. I need to steal his body and bury him next to Bon Scott.”
Abe blinks some more. Then, he chokes out, “Do you need help?”
By help he mainly means a lift to the local mental hospital, because Sam has apparently completely lost it.
Sam smiles at him prettily. It doesn’t make him look like a madman, as one would expect. “No, I’m good.” He kisses Abe again. “I’ll be back.”
For a brief moment, Abe wonders why he’s even seeing this complete weirdo, but when Sam walks away, his gaze flicks down to his backside, and he remembers.
