#and then trying to fix it only to be beaten down when im asking for give and take

[itskattkm]

Day & Night

Mabel (Finestkind) x G!P Reader

Warnings: life crisis, bruises, smut, bad writing because of translation

A/N: hello my dears. Here a Mabel short story. Maybe making a part two. The requests I had got are in work :) So this is my first try of some spice in English and I could cry in pain. The translation is so bad. And I need to stop changing perspective so often. It’s getting confusing right? Hope you guys can still enjoy

Part 2, Part 3

I remembered as if it was yesterday when I kept an eye on Mabel after she was beaten up by these damn dealers. I didn't know much but what I knew was that things didn't go as they should. So before Charlie took Mabel's car to take care of some things, I got the call to watch out for Mabel until he would be back.

I leaned against the wall when I looked through the small slit in her cardboard at the window. The sun seemed to go down. I sighed softly. What situation did I find myself in again? How many times had I asked myself this when it came to Mabel. For a very long time I thought that we were friends... although I knew deep inside that we never were. I was just like a lost puppy... someone who would follow her wherever she wanted to go. Someone who would do anything to pray for her. Someone whose feelings were obviously not reciprocated. Someone... who was self-evident.

I looked over my shoulder back at her. As if frozen, she sat at the end of her bed and stared at the dark floor. I could feel her pain... her fear. What should you say to someone who was beaten up by dealers a few hours ago? Was there anything right to say?

As I knew Mabel, it was probably raging in her thoughts. Accusations. Shame. Disappointment. She hated the life she came from. I never knew anyone who had longed for a different life like me. At that time, I thought this was something that had connected us. Or did I just try to look longing for things that weren't there? For things that would connect us in any way?

I turned around and walked to the small dining table to take one of the chairs. When I now picked up one of the older wooden chairs and placed it in front of Mabel to sit im front of her, I got her attention. But I only got this because I had made noises that weren't there before.

I slowly sat down opposite her, looking down at the pack full of swabs and the alcohol bottle. I took out one of the swabs and moistened it with the alcohol.

I carefully lifted Mabel's chin with my hand. My eyes were now on her lips. The laceration on her lip had opened again. I didn't know if my attempt to take care of her injury made sense. Whether it did anything at all. But I couldn't stand here any further, wait for Charlie's return and drown in silence.

"You fumble too much on it... it opens again and again" I whispered gently before I dabbing her wound and only got a soft hiss from Mabel when she consumed herself because of the burning.

Again, a sigh escaped me. I threw the cotton wool aside. I wondered how long I would have to suffer. Would it ever be over?

"Thank you..."

The words and the me making me feel goosebumps tone in her voice brought me back. I looked with a mix of worry and sadness in her dark eyes, slightly smeared eyelashes ink emphasized her aura. Her left eye was decorated with yellow bruised spots that slowly turned purple.

I lost myself in the darkness of her eyes. Asked me if she could ever see how much was hidden in my eyes? Every time I looked at her, I had the feeling that I knew what was going on in her. How she felt.

My heart was bleeding and although I knew that my presence and the attempt to sit or just be there for her would not change anything , I couldn’t help it. I hesitantly raised my hand and fixed her bangs, with an almost trembling hand I tried to wipe a strand to the side to see her face better. I didn't want to hurt her. I was afraid of getting so close to her at all.

Now I could admire her injured face in full costume. Why is my heart bleeding all the more to see her in such a state? Why did I find her even more beautiful? Why couldn't these feelings disappear?

The burning of my eyes brought me back from a so-called trance. I didn't smell any of these feelings. Never.

"You are very strong... never forget that," I whispered because I didn't know what else to say. Her eyes pierced me. This time I didn't know what I could see in it. Gratitude? Security? Or maybe it was nothing at all?

But they seemed so gentle. So gently that I had to fight with the urge to somehow tell her my feelings.

Almost a year passed after this incident.

Mabel and Charlie have been still a couple. Charlie and Tom had now built a new bussines with the Finestkind. The crew still had hard jobs... yet they were independent and very important... not on the criminal path.

It was again one of those nights when I sat on the scaffolding of the bridge and just watched as the sea and the sky became one in the dark.

Never before had I felt so lost. So lost from my path.

It was the stormy days when I was here at the pier and watched the raging sea. It should remind me that I was alive... that there had to be a reason for all this. That there was a story for me that I didn't know anything about yet, but when would all this come? When would I feel free. When would I feel important?

"It's one of those days again?"

a voice too familiar to me spoke.

I looked to the side, Mabel slowly approached the terrain and looked out into the distance in which the lights of the Finestkind could already be seen.

Then my heart sank. I knew she was here to pick up Charlie. It wasn't a prescribed path that should lead her to me... No... but to Charlie.

I looked at the ship.

"I guess" I said because I didn't know if Mabel was really interested in how I was doing and what I was doing. Most of the time I was the one who asked and listened, I mean… I cared.

"How's it going with college?" I asked her

Mabel nodded and had this beautiful wide smile on her lips as she looked out to the ship. From the side I could she her dimples and beautiful side profile.

"It was definitely the right decision," she said.

I smiled because of her happiness. Of her her joy...

"I'm happy about that," I said and looked back at the ship. As it got more and more windy, Mabel had hooked her arm in mine and laughed slightly "you have to stop being up here in this weather. It's dangerous"

I grinned. Was this a concern? Was she really interested? This sentence warmed my heart in so many ways. The fact that she knew how many times I was here... that alone gave me hope.

"But at those times it looks the most beautiful out here!" I shouted when a stronger gust of wind hit us.

Mabel shook her head "you really have to stop falling for the things that could kill you"

I looked at her thoughtfully.

What did she mean by that?

Suddenly the horn of the finestkind sounded. Mabel grabbed my arm more firmly and pulled me with her to leave the scaffolding of the bridge together.

When we arrived downstairs and watched the boys docking, my heart began to race. As soon as Charlie had left the ship, Mabels loosened her grip around my arm and she landed in his. He put his arms around her narrow waist and kissed her for a long time.

How much I wish I could have been Charlie. How much I wanted to give her my love and everything else in the world... how much I wanted this from her. The other boys greeted me with hugs. Tom laughed dry

"Y/N if you continue like this you will become our lighthouse" a laugh escaped me and I boxed into his shoulder.

"Beauty and death at the same time... I say," Mabel joked. I grinned and gradually began to understand. "What do you think... are we still going to the bar?" Charlie asked.

More months passed after that day. It was a day like almost any other.

I didn't go to the community college like Mabel, but I had studied online. In the summer season, Mabel actually began to spent most of her time with me on the grounds of the bridge. We learned together. Waited until the boys would come back.

It became our thing. Now I knew that Mabel came here not only because of Charlie... but also because of me.

"How are things going?" I asked her because she was exceptionally quiet today. She looked into the distance and said "I'm not sure..."

I knew this look. Pain. Longing. So I counted one and one together. Things between her and Charlie seemed to have changed.

The boys haven't come back for a long time now. They were on a almost one month long "trip" if I could call it that.

I followed her gaze, a fisherman to date, I indeed imagined that difficult.

"Do you have time tonight?" Mabel asked me with this self-confident strong tone. I looked back at my laptop

"Probably why?"

"I could use some help..."

She began to pack her things and looked down at me. The wind blew slightly through her hair, she looked at me with a grin to which I could never say no.

"So?" She Hacked after I was just staring at her. I shook my head slightly to wake up.

"Yes... yes, of course. When should I come over?" I asked her

"I'll come to you... in about an hour..."

I nodded and watched her go down.

Maybe we were friends after all.

Later in the evening I was just cooking food.

One hour became two... and two almost three. It has now been 11 o'clock at night. I was tired and would still have to do some tasks.

Just when I was about to change, it suddenly knocked on my door. Confused about the late time, I went to the door and opened it. Immediately Mabel entered my apartment slightly out of breath with a wide grin.

Confused, I locked the door behind her and looked after her. She put her shoulder bag on my dining table and said

"Sorry, I'm late..."

I laughed dryly and looked at the clock

"Three hours..."

Mabel continued to grin as if she was in a “that interested me at least now mode”. She took off her leather jacket and looked at me "it's not a bad thing"

I walked past her to drink a glass of water in the kitchen "it's not like I would have liked to have done something else instead of waiting here and worrying a little".

Mabel followed every movement of Y/N with a cheeky yet gentle smile.

"You were worried?" She asked in a teasing tone. Surprised by the sound, I looked at her nervously "of course... it's dark outside and you didn't even send me a text"

Mabel laughed slightly as she walked closer to Y/N "You could have texted me too..." she whispered and looked at her urgently.

Y/N felt a heat in herself that was difficult to control. In order not to respond to Mabel's last words, I said nervously "you wanted my help... what exactly?"

Mabel came closer and held the eye contact for unusually long "did I want that?" She whispered.

Slightly confused, I looked at her and didn't quite understand. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what.

Suddenly Mable slowly put her hand around my waist and said "I meant rather... that I need you tonight"

The place where she touched me sent a wave of goose bumps to the rest of my body. Were those signals? Did I understand the situation I was in right now?

She got closer and closer to me and I didn't even think about moving at all. Her eyes moved back and forth between my eyes and lips. Her face was only centimeters away when her lips slightly brushed mine.

"How much do you want me y/n?" She whispered.

My heart beated hard against my chest.

As if attracted by a siren, I lean in. Next, I felt her soft lips on mine.

The lips that I wanted to feel for so long. To taste.

Mabel grabbed my neck and kissed me back deeper as she slowly led us into my bedroom.

There she pushed me down on the edge of my bed before she made herself comfortable on my lap and started kissing on my neck. Her hips moved into mine. My member immediately started to get hard. This seemed to please her because she rubbed herself more and more firmly on it as she held my neck tightly and kissed me passionately.

I was breathing heavily. Held her hip that was moving back and forth in my hands when I began to breathe heavily. I kissed her back hungry. My lips brushed hers over and over again when I tried to hold back.

"Don't hold back... show me" she whispered seductive. I pressed my nails into the fabric of her hotpants before kissing her hard and then bit on her lower lip to pull it slightly. Mabel gasped slight in surprise of the intense feeling and was overwhelmed by the fact how good y/n felt.

She kept grinding on y/n lap. She felt the big and hard bump in y/n pants and wanted to feel it so bad... wanted to touch it so bad. So she opened y/n pants and observed how rapid the breathing of y/n became.

Both looked down when Mabel freed y/n hard cock. Suddenly it felt like time had stopped. Very slowly she took him in her hand became aware of the size and felt the warmth he radiated. Y/N swallowed hard when she could watch Mabel hold her hard cock in her hand. Her hand was warm and it just felt so good. Both raised their heads and their eyes met. Mable's gaze wandered between Y/N's eyes and lips.

Y/n put her hand around the back of Mabel's head and pulled her closer. She kissed her slowly, breathed heavily and groped herself slowly with her tongue. Mabel escaped a slight moan when she returned this kiss and her tongue hit y/n. She grabbed her cock more firmly and began to move her hand up and down very slowly. Y/n felt all the pleasure coming over search. These touches. That's all she had always longed for.

Mabel observes satisfied the effective she exercised on y/n when she breathed heavily into her neck and tried to hold back her moans.

But she felt and could see how harder y/n always became. She wondered if the pain was with pleasure. She looked down at the pink tip as she slowed down her firm movements and stroked her thumb over her tip. Mabel herself felt an unbearably good pulsation inside of her when she saw some white liquid coming out of y/n cock.

Her heart was racing like crazy. Oh how much her body screamed for y/n. The things she wanted to do with her. She slowly began to kiss her neck. Her tongue strokes slightly over y/n pulse. She now moved her hand a little faster. But didn't want to take y/n too far because she wanted to feel her inside of herself.

She breathed heavily against y/n neck as she started to grind on her thighs while she gave you a probably long-awaited handjob.

"Do you have condoms?" Asked Mabel with a raspy voice. Y/n held tight Mabel’s waist. She breathed heavily when she said "Night table... top... top drawer"

Mabel nodded and reached for y/n jaw before she kissed her deeply and her tongue explored her mouth. She had some condoms herself, of course, but she preferred to use y/n... especially since this was a size that was clearly not comparable to that of Charlie and that in a good sense.

When her lips loosened, she let go of her hard limb. She began to take off y/n sweatshirt and shortly afterwards y/n helped Mabel get rid of her clothes.

Mabel slowly pressed y/n into the mattress so that she was laying on her back.

Mabel leaned over her as she began to kiss her passionately and rubbed her wet middle over the erection of y/n.

Y/n moaned and turned around so that Mabel was now under her. She kissed her jaw, throat and neck before she slightly bit into it and made Mabel escape moan.

She places herself between Mabel's legs. Their naked bodies touched each other and y/n struggled with an almost painful erection. She felt Mabel's warm and moist vagina. With her tip, she brushed Mabel's clit and breathed heavily as Mabel's grip solidified around y/n shoulders.

With full passion, y/n looked into Mabel's dark eyes before she bent over her chest and began to kiss her left breast. Mabel's grip demanded herself in y/n hair when she arched her back in pleasure and moaned. Y/n took time to taste her warm and gentle skin. In a teasing way she brushed her lips above the sensitive skin of Mabel's breast before teasing her nipple.

"Y/n..."

Gasped Mabel heavy. A shiver hit down y/n spine. How long did she want to hear Mabel call her. Taste and touch her body. She slowly kissed her nipples. And moved her tongue around it in circle movements. Everything y/n did robbed Mabel of her mind.

Mabel stretched out her arm and opened the top drawer of the bedside table to look for the condom.

That was a signal for y/n that Mabel wanted more and needed it. With hot and wet kisses y/n covered Mabel's neck and whispered Husky "don't be so impatient Mabel..."

Mabel shivered and chuckled slight before locking eyes with y/n and whispered seductive "just do what I'm telling you to do...".

She caressed y/n stomach... moving her hand slowly down to your hard cock "...please"

She added.

You nodded and let her put the condom on your hard cock.

You shivered when her hands touched you again and rolled over the condom in the most sensual way you could have imagine.

You spread her legs more before burying your face in the crook of her neck. Slowly you penetrated into her. Her walls are tighter than you could ever have imagined.

Some sounds left Mabel as you continue to slowly go deeper. You had reached for the lacquer when Mabel pressed her nails into your back and moaned as you extended her further. After a few moments, you both breathed harder. Mabel put her legs around your hip and whispered "deeper".

You did her that favor and fill her completely with your length in the next moment.

A loud moan caught her and for you it was like music. You finally got what you wanted. What you had longed for. Mabel. In your arms. Connected to each other. You would never be able to let her go again. She was what kept you alive... what motivated you every day even if it was so hard.

I held her hip tightly as I began to move slowly. Mabel's breathing became more and more intense. She moaned almost evenly and called my name.

I began to bump harder, had a firm grip around her thigh when I breathed heavily against her lips. She stretched out her head. Put her arms around my neck to be able to kiss me. Her tongue brushed my lips as she whispered “...y/n”.

I felt how she became more and more tighter with excitement. I felt a soft end with every new and faster push that made her moan more. I knew... that I had found the spot... and it wouldn't be long before she would have her orgasm.

"Y/n!" She shouted, totally intoxicated. Your body was shaking. With every push, she came closer to the feeling of pure satisfaction.

I kissed her hard before I buried my face back in her neck and whispered "your mine now..."

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[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 6: Darling

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: implied sexual content, MDNI Note: PART 6 HAS ARRIVED! Thank you for all of your support! A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @peachesofteal for workshopping with me, per usual, and being my beta! Enjoy and blessed be! (p.s. ghost drinking an orange sodie lol) << Previous | Next >>

Simon could hear his daughter’s screams as he came up the walkway to their front door, duffel slung over his shoulder. He had returned from a month-long deployment an hour ago and only allowed himself enough time to debrief and return his weapons once on base before hopping in his car and heading home.

He entered the house, still in full gear (mask and all), to find his heavily pregnant wife pacing the living room, their crying daughter in her arms. Her eyes and cheeks were red when she turned to the door, sobbing in relief at the sight of him.

“Oh, sweetheart. What’s going on?” he asked, dropping his bag by the door and going to her.

“She has a-a cold.”

“I can see that.” He wiped at the snot and drool on Joanie’s lip with his glove. “Where’s Roach?”

“He went to pick König up. You didn’t see him?”

“No. Must’ve just missed ‘im.” When Price handed out assignments for their most recent deployment, Roach had offered (more like decided) to stay with Freyja for the duration of his absence. With König also deployed, it made sense for him to help her with the baby and housekeeping while Simon was gone. Better than staying on base – alone – for a month. Knowing someone was in the house with his family made him feel better about leaving for such an extended period, especially with his track record. The last time he had left the country, leaving his pregnant spouse behind…

Simon rubbed his daughter’s back, his heartstrings tugging at the thought of her being in pain. “Give ’er here, I’ll take a turn.”

“Si, no, you must be exhausted-”

“I am exhausted, which means I’m in no mood to argue. Go to bed, love, please.”

His pleading didn’t seem to affect her as she went back to doing laps around the couch. “The doctor said there’s nothing we can do. It just has to pass. I’ve tried everything. Chest salve, shower steam, saline – nothing’s working. Every-Every time we put her down or sit down, the screaming just gets worse. Can’t stop…moving, and your son is kicking the shit out of me-”

This was ironic, considering how Joan only kicked when Simon or one of their friends spoke or touched her belly. Now, their son only ever kicked for her.

“Freyja.”

She stopped her rambling and found he had stepped into her path; he firmly held her biceps and dragged his hands up and down. Freyja sniffled as another tear slipped down her cheek. No singular word could describe how she felt (and probably looked). Drained, fatigued, beaten, dog-tired; none quite did the trick.

“You look like shit. You need to get some rest.”

“No, Simon, please just go to…bed.”

Soon as Ghost took Joan and returned to massaging her spine, her wails simmered to quiet whimpers as she cuddled into him. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, little fingers hanging from the collar of his shirt to the top of his vest. Their baby was getting big, her senseless baby talk beginning to lean more toward coherent vocabulary. When Joanie cried a soft “Dada” against his neck, Freyja started to sob harder, the heels of her palms dug into her eyes. 

Shit. “What’s wrong? She stopped screaming bloody murder. That’s a good thing.”

“I’ve been trying to calm her down for hours! You come home, and after five minutes, you’ve fixed it. She hates me! She fucking hates me!”

“Frey, look at me.” He stopped comforting Joan for a moment to tilt his wife’s chin up, forcing her to listen to him. When she did, he took his hand back. “Babies see their mothers as an extension of themselves. She knows your heartbeat and breathing sounds; she gets food from you…”

“Who told you that?”

“…I read about it.”

Freyja softened, tears no longer flowing freely. “You read parenting books?”

“Of course I do. I want to be the best for them and you.” He pulled her into his chest with one arm, his covered lips pressing into her hair. “You are her mother. I could never take your place. You’re her home. But I’ve been gone for a month, and I’ve never been away from her this long. There’s something to be said about missing her dad and wanting some comfort.”

When Simon brushed her tears away, she turned to kiss his palm, then rested her cheek there. Freyja didn’t know how, but her husband sure had a way with words, always knowing how to make her feel better. 

“Better?”

“Mhm,” she hummed and, before she could reach to pull his mask up, Joanie whined in frustration, kicking her legs impatiently, about to start up again. Simon chuckled and let his wife go, his heavy boots thunking against the hard floor as he began what would be a long night of getting his steps in. 

“Good. Now do as Daddy tells you and go to bed. Don’t make me tell you again.”

.

.

.

Coming up on the end of her pregnancy, the ‘waddling’ stage was in full swing. If Freyja thought she was big just before Joan was born, she was almost certainly a whale now, and she was losing energy much faster than before. This time around, though, they were sure to schedule a c-section for the week before her due date. The OB didn’t put up much of an argument with her medical history and Joan’s early arrival.

Her phone pinged again as she rounded the corner toward her husband’s office.

And again.

Joan’s irritable whines became more evident as she closed in on her destination. “Si, I can only move so fast.”

“Oh, thank god.” Ghost detached Joan’s iron grip from his mask while she was distracted. She continued to kick her little legs against him, trying to get away. “She’s antsy. I can’t get her down for shit. She’s sick of me.”

He wheeled his chair around the desk and tugged her missing sock back on (to her protest) until he reached the other side and placed her feet on the floor. “See? Mum’s here. Go see her,” he cooed, her tiny hands gripping his thumbs for support.

“Dad Ghost” as she had lovingly coined Simon in his work attire, was a walking contradiction. An arguably massive man, a masked mystery to majority of the population on base, snapping otherwise cocky and egotistical soldiers back in line. Still, no one dared to laugh as he screamed at them for poor technique or a lackluster performance with a blonde baby on his hip or strapped to his back. It never failed to make her want to giggle, hearing such a soft, gentle tone from the big scary skull plate affixed to his balaclava. 

Freyja was halfway across the room when he stood their daughter between his comically large boots. “She won’t go that far,” she admonished. “If you give her too big of a task, she’s not going to even try-”

As if sensing her mother’s doubt, Joan took a steady step forward, still holding Simon’s hands in deep concentration. Then another, and another –

Until he couldn’t stretch forward anymore, and she let go, hobbling towards Freyja until she stumbled at her feet, letting out a soft baby grunt.

They both stared at each other in silence, eyes wide and mouths agape in shock. Neither spoke for a good minute, until Joanie pulled herself up again by Freyja’s cargo pants, babbling, “Mum mum mum mummm”, gnawing at the thick material and looking up with big, brown eyes.

“Did she just…?”

“I told you, she’s bloody brilliant.” Simon shot up to scoop the baby and place her in his wife’s waiting arms.

“My big, smart girl! I can’t believe it!” She squealed and giggled as Freyja peppered her face in fat, wet kisses and gently shook her. Ghost joined in, playfully nibbling at the rolls on the other side through the black material covering his face. Joanie smacked them both away, screaming with joy. Amongst all the commotion, Price stopped in the doorway on his way to their brief (which they were about to be late for). 

“What’s going on here?” he asked, fists on his hips in faux anger. “I thought we had an understanding! No fun at work without Granddad.”

“We officially have a walker on our hands!”

Price gasped and crossed the room in an instant. “And I missed it?!” He shoved the stack of mission folders at the lieutenant and stole his granddaughter from her mother, hiking her high up on his waist. “You walked without me? I’m offended, little miss, but I’ll settle for a victory lap.”

He plucked his green bucket hat off the top of his head and dropped it onto hers, earning a high-pitched shriek of delight when it covered her face. “Let’s roll, everybody. We’ve got a meeting to get to,” he commanded before marching down the hall. “Oi, lads! She walked!”

A chorus of cheers broke out in the distance, followed by a wall-shaking group chant, “Joanie! Joanie! Joanie!”

Freyja just stood there, pouting, arms crossed atop her belly. “Just once, I’d like to celebrate our baby’s milestones in peace.”

“You know that’s not possible, love.” Ghost chuckled next to her, offering a single pat to her ass as they headed to the briefing. While neither of them would be going, it was their job to know what was going on during their impending absence. The ruckus started to die down when the couple sat, and the others followed suit. Soap placed a mug of peppermint tea in front of her, which she thanked him for, and  Laswell, Gaz, and Soap filed around the table.

“Kӧnig and Roach should be here shortly,” Price said, bouncing Joan on his lap as Ghost passed out manila folders.

Gaz checked his watch with a furrowed brow. “It’s five past. Maybe they forgot?”

“Just give them a few minutes. I’m sure they’ll be here.”

“His office was closed, so he’s definitely in there. I can go grab ‘im. It’s no trouble,” he offered, the metal legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up.

“Be my guest, Sergeant,” Freyja hummed, making eye contact with John as she sipped her tea, hiding her mischievous grin behind the cup. She waited for an appropriate amount of time, about how long it would take to take ten paces up the hall before she held up five fingers. 

“You’re a demon.”

“Five, four, three, two…”

“Verdammt nochmal!” 

There’s a loud bang, eerily similar to the sound of a six-foot-six body slamming into the floor. Boots thunder against the ground until Gaz appears in the doorway again, eyes wide and blushing like a madman.

“Genau deshalb habe ich das Militär verlassen, keiner von euch hat den Anstand, verdammt noch mal anzuklopfen!”

“Didn’t knock, did you.”

“Nope.”

“How bad?”

König stomped into the meeting, red as a tomato as he jerked his long, tangled (read: freshly fucked) hair into a knot at the base of his neck before slipping his hood on. Roach walked in behind him, grinning like an absolute idiot (read: clearly the one doing the fucking), albeit a bit flush, and his clothes untucked and wrinkled as he plopped beside John. 

“At least I didn’t get knifed this time.”

“Der Tag ist noch jung, Unteroffizier.”

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounded like a threat.”

“It was,” Freyja sang, her body shaking as she attempted to withhold laughter.

By the time Price had finished divulging the details of the op scheduled for the end of the month (which was also around the time of her c-section, which left Freyja and those deploying disappointed), Joanie had escaped his hold to crawl across the table and landed in her mother’s lap. She sat back against Frey’s round belly, happily gnawing on a teething ring while the captain combed her fingers through her soft, blonde curls. 

John cleared his throat and leaned back, tipping the chair on its back legs. “So…In a shocking turn of events, Roach is the top–”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY, CAPTAIN?!” Soap screeched after choking on his coffee, leaving a stain on his shirt as it dripped from his nose.

“Oh, mein Gott…” 

“I don’t know. What did I say, Sergeant?”

Across the table, Roach held his lips between his teeth as he wheezed, quickly signing, “Only for my king.”

“PLEASE PLÖTZE! Stop talking!” König, finally deciding he’d had enough, shot up from his seat and practically sprinted out of the room, almost bonking his head on the door frame on his way out. A moment later, he stormed back in and snagged his forgotten file awaiting him in Roach’s outstretched hand before turning back out.

Biting his lip, Soap muttered, “Interesting…” to himself, eyeing the Austrian’s retreating form before flicking back over to Roach. The Brit was already looking at him, probably having heard him being sat next to him. He winked with a devilish smirk, and practically purred, “S’alright, happens tae th' best o' us.”

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.

.

A few days shy of their next mission, and the birth of the newest Riley, the gang gathered around their living room for one last game night before Roach, König, Soap, and John departed for another mission. Roach and König were less than pleased to be missing the birth of their godson, but it couldn’t be helped.

Kyle placed a red eight down on the stack of cards, ending his turn. “C’mon, mate, what’s the wildest thing you’ve done on a mission?” he prodded, raising a brow in Simon’s direction. “You know all our stories. It’s only fair.”

The two shared a knowing look, and Freyja giggled once before Kyle interrupted, “Besides that, you heathens.”

Simon pressed against the kitchen chair he had dragged in for himself, seriously considering what he would consider the most outlandish activity he had partaken in outside of combat. Particularly, that didn’t involve screwing his wife in places they shouldn’t, like public places, sniper lookouts, cars, or supply closets…

Before he could drift too far, he caught the saucy side-eye his wife was throwing him from her deep armchair.

“No.”

Soap peeked up from his hand with a quirked brow. “Does Ghostie have an embarrassing secret? Now we have to know!”

“It’s not a secret, and I’m not embarrassed by it just because I don’t flaunt it around,” he said, shot back the rest of his whiskey, and replaced his mask. Simon didn’t always wear it with their friends; he just so happened to feel inclined to it that night. There was no rhyme or reason as to when he needed the comfort; the urge just came and went as it pleased. 

He tried his best to sound completely disinterested, hoping the discussion would blow over as he threw down his card. “Blue.”

Unfortunately, his plan did not work, and all interest in their game of Uno was lost. Kyle threw his hand down on the table, completely giddy. “WHAT IS IT?! TELL US!”

Simon groaned, throwing his cards at his wife, who simply laughed. “See, look what you did.” He sighed and begrudgingly unhooked his mask from behind his ears, tossing that at her too. After a beat, he let his tongue loll out, revealing a silver ball.

Several (if not all) of their jaws dropped, save for Freyja’s, who was utterly thrilled that this was happening.

Johnny was the first to speak. “Is…that…” he stuttered, staring unabashedly in disbelief. 

He snapped his mouth shut again once everyone had had a decent look. “Alright, can we move on please–”

The Scot pounced across the space, clearing the coffee table as he knocked Simon out of his chair, taking them both down into a heap on the floor. They wrestled as he tried to dig his fingers into Ghost’s mouth and pry it open again. “LEMME SEE!”

“JOHNNY!” Simon roared, bucking and thrashing his hips in attempt to get the man off, but he quickly scooted up until he sat firmly on his chest, knees pinning his shoulders as he yanked the piercing back out.

“Awe, so that’s why you’re always fuckin’ like horny teenagers! Oh, ah bet that feels good on your cu-”

“SHUT UP, SOAP!” “THAT’LL DO!” 

Freyja whipped her slipper at Johnny’s head, which he swiftly dodged. Meanwhile, Gaz was face down on the floor, having a fit and struggling to breathe. Price looked like he would actually rather die than endure another moment of the scene unfolding at his feet. Kӧnig was carefully weaving between people and furniture to remove Soap before he got hurt, and Roach stayed in his spot, mouth open in silent laughter.

Thank God Joanie was a heavy sleeper.

“Are you gonnae sit there ‘n tell meh that a’m wrong? A husband should always eat arse!”

“JOHNNY, OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

Kyle finally caught his breath and cut back in, “But does it WORK?!”

Everybody froze, including Kӧnig, whose hands looped under Johnny’s armpits, about to extract him. From underneath him, Simon glared up at his wife (who started this whole fucking mess). “Freyja–”

But Freyja, being the brat she is and loving the chaos, “…It works.”

Simon covered his face with both of his now freed hands, so utterly sick of her shit as the sergeant shook his shoulders, he and Gaz both screaming like madmen. Kӧnig still hovered over them, ready to remove Johnny if Simon called for it, his red hair up in a neat top knot at the crown of his head. A few strands hung loosely by his ears and at the peak of his forehead, framing his pale skin.

“AAAAAYYYYYY, SO YOU DO GIVE GOOD HEAD!”

He removed his shield at that, looking up at Johnny with a confused expression. “Who said I don’t give good head?”

Price flinched with a crinkled nose and grabbed his hat from the back of the couch. “That’s my cue.”

“Scary guys either have monster cock or scary good head,” Kyle stated as if it were pure fact.

“But he has both.”

“I can’t fucking take this.” Simon finally shoved at Johnny and the Austrian lifted him with ease, standing the Scot back on his feet.

Soap dusted off his pants. “Damn, you’ll have’ta get one’a those, Köni,” he teased and turned to face the giant, looking up at him with a boyish grin. 

König’s skin, ever the shy one, immediately painted itself a rosy hue, unable to be hidden by any hood or mask. Even Roach was taken by his brashness and turned a little pink himself, choosing to sip his drink. König was, unfortunately, frozen in place, wide eyes staring down at Johnny’s proud face.

Three seconds pass.

Then two more.

Then three again.

“OH MY GOD, THAT WAS THEM?! The threesome you told me about a few weeks ago, was them?”

With nowhere else to go, König collapsed onto the couch and pulled the neck of his sweater over his face. “Verdammter Himmel, Johnny…” If he could crawl into a hole and die, he would.

“What can ah say? M’services are world-class.”

“Can confirm,” Roach added, having put his glass down so he could use both hands to talk.

Johnny raised a brow and dragged his eyes from Roach’s shoes, slowly up his shins, then his thighs and chest before settling on the challenging smirk on his freckled face. “‘S that so?” he asked, stepping into the space between Roach’s knees and the table.

Roach simply nodded, looking up at his boyfriend through hooded lashes, resembling a lovesick puppy with shocking accuracy. He knew exactly what he was doing, too, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth. Roach was a…talented flirt, to say the least.

His glass was carefully removed from his hand and placed on a coaster. Without a second thought, Soap wrapped his fingers around Roach’s wrist, dragged it behind his neck, and tossed the man over his shoulder. Gaz gaped, completely dumbfounded into silence – flabbergasted, if you will. He paused in the entryway, looking over his opposite shoulder.

“You comin’, Kö?”

König, still tucked away in the corner of the couch, peeked out from the cocoon he had created with his sweater. Even his forehead was tinged red, still. He openly stared for a bit before mustering up enough courage to rise again, and in an impossibly meek voice for such a large man, replied, “...Yes, sir,” and loosely tangled their fingers together.

Kyle threw his hands up then dropped them onto his head, dragging his cap back a bit. “WHAT IS GOING ON?!”

Freyja offered a sympathetic pat, her bottom lip jutted out. Poor Simon, who had returned to his seat, covered his mouth with one palm as he tried to contain his chuckles. He pulled his mask back on after retrieving it from the floor.

“Don’t worry, Gaz,” she said and poked his cheek. “We’ll find you a nice girl.”

“I GET AROUND FINE!” He swatted her hand away, glowering at her. “You’re all just a bunch of slags!”

He jumped up, abandoning his beer and putting his hat back in place. “Where’s my niece? I need to restore my innocence,” he grumbled, trudging upstairs.

“Simon, did he just call us sluts?”

“Yes, darling.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

#simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x sniper!reader #husband simon riley #simon riley x wife!reader #simon riley x pregnant!reader #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw #cod mwii #cod mw ghost #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #angst #fluff #call of duty #task force 141/reader #ghost x y/n #modern warefare reboot #we love a girlboss #könig gets tossed #ghost smut

[sourgreenlupin]

hi! sorry i took so long to post anything, been a very chaotic few weeks. no prompt here, just remus tending to sirius!

word count: 583

sirius sulked his way through the castle corridors, trying his hardest to ignore the gasps and giggles as he passed.

he continued his sulking all the way up to his room, he wasn’t exactly excited about james’ finding out, but he had an attack plan.

walk straight to remus’ bed, ignore james’ inevitable, incessant worrying, have remus fix everything, and the most important step, never ever bring any of this up to anyone ever again.

so he took just a minute to compose himself, deep breath, wince, twist, push, exhale.

‘pads!? what the fuck? are you okay? oh merlin, what happened? who did this? here, here, sit down, stay here, ill get you ice and- where are you going?’

sirius shot a deadly glare at james— bitchy, he knows, but the bruises and black eye fit as an excuse.

though remus has yet to show any interest in anything other than the book he was reading, sirius continued his plan.

he grabbed remus by the ear (‘SIRIUS!’), pulling him off the bed, and dragging him through the room into the bathroom.

remus complied with a muttered, ‘you could have let me mark the page, or you know, just asked,’ and a friendly wave to a still frantic james.

sirius helped lupin stand up and handed him his bag of muggle medicine.

‘i only brought you cause you’re good at healing,’ sirius defended himself; uselessly.

‘i know,’ remus has his wand and his various supplies set up before he spares a glance in sirius’ direction.

the gasp is almost guttural.

sirius’ swollen cheek, probable broken nose, lip swollen and oozing blood, red splotches scattered across most of his visible skin; sirius looked utterly beaten.

‘merlin, is it really that bad?’ sirius tried (unsuccessfully) to laugh it off, but it ended in a wheezing cough.

‘sirius, merlin. who did this to you?’ remus thumbs over the bloodied lip, more blood dripping down as he swipes over it.

sirius barely contains a shiver, with remus analyzing every inch of his face, his thumb still resting on his lip, and the hand still gripping his jaw, turning and adjusting sirius to his liking.

while remus starts on the treatment, sirius sighs out his embarrassment.

‘snape had said some nasty shit about mudbloods, as if he isn’t one himself! but he was calling some first year these awful names, and i obviously said some- ow!- thing to him, and then barty comes out of nowhere ready to fucking kill me,’ with breaks and winces, sirius mutters out his story to an attentive remus.

‘oh baby, too caring for your own good. i appreciate you standing up for that first year, but quit getting yourself involved with snape, it never ends well for anyone.’

‘i can’t just let him go around thinking he’s the shit, he’s gotta learn somehow.’

‘by having his friend beat the shit out of you? im not sure i see your plan here,’ remus is giggling and sirius is smiling despite the pain.

remus pulls sirius up by the collar of his jacket so he’s standing, dusts the jacket off, and wipes the dry blood off.

now that sirius is standing, they’re about the same height, so when remus looks up, hes only an inch away from sirius’ face.

‘well, uh, thank you remus,’ sirius stutters out his appreciation in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

‘ehh, you can thank me later,’ then he pulls sirius in, backing him up to lean against the counter.

#remus lupin #the marauders #the marauders era #sirius black #wolfstar #marauders #dead gay wizards #james potter #regulus black #black brothers #peter pettigrew

[ramattra-simping]

I know the stories are gonna be slow but please take your time when doing this, mental health is important 💜 but I might suggest a story, Reader having a mental health breakdown during a mission while working with Null Sector’s leader Ramattra. Look after yourself okay

Thank you for your patience. And sorry it took me that long to answer to your request.

━━━━━━━༺۵༻━━━━━━━

S/o having a breakdown while working with Ramattra

You knew from the moment you agree to work with Ramattra that it wont be easy.

Especially when you are a human and everyone knows he hates them.

But you once helped and omnic when he got beaten up and repaired him after it.

Ramattra heard of you from the omnic you helped and literally forced you to work with him as in "Your people cause this damage . You will fix it"

You agreed mostly because you felt bad for the omnics and want them to have a better life.

Time pasted and to your surprise Ramattra got a little nicer to you and you? Well you just fall for the null sector leader. How did it happen? If only you know

And because of it you got even more stressed when you fix another omnic. "What if i mess up?" "What if Ramattra doesnt need you at some point anymore?"

After a mission Ramattra got damaged. Not much but it still needed a check up so he went to you.

When you saw it was him who asked for your check up your stress level went high again.

You were on the edge of a breakdowm. 1. He got damaged/injured and that worried you. 2. You needed to check him up and repair the caused damage. 3. If you mess up he will be mad and surely kick you out.

You didnt even notice you were a shaking mess until he asked you what the matter would be. You just said you were bit cold hoping its enough for him

You started working now still very shaky but try your best.

But your thoughtd betray you.

You dont know why but your hand start to cramp and you let the tool fall you used.

Both you and Ramattra looked down to the tool and he is actually the one piccking it up for you. "Im so sorry! Im sorry! Please, please dont be mad!" was the first you could think of saying.

If he could he would rais an eyebrow at you.

"Now what is there to be sorry about" he asked you not looking away even when he placed the tool away.

"For messing up. For being so stupid!" small teares roll down now.

Ramattra understood fast. He may be n ot found of humans but you are a good one, who is on the side of the omnics right. He could trust you.

So he can see what is going on with you.

"Now, Now do not speak of yourself so low. You are not stupid nor did yu make any kind of mess."

"Yes i am. No matter what i do its always wrong." you know its not true yoursekf its the stress speaking now.

"Do you truly think you make everything wrong? Because if it would be true i would have already kicked you out."

He stands up now to stand right in front of you and looks downa t you.

"You are a good human compare to evryone else. You help my people no matter what you and we all are gratful for it." after his little spech he placed a hand on your shoulder.

You didnt know what came over you but out of instinct you hug him needing some comfort even if its a cold omnic chest.

He is taken back at first but lets you hold him.

He even pats your back to help you calm down. "Now, why wont you rest for the rest of the day and take your time? You humans are fragile after all"

You just nod your head at him frist before breaking the hug "Thank you Ramattra. Really"

This time he just nods and gave one more pat on your head before leaving.

While he is leaving one thing was for sure in his mind, no matter what he doesnt want to see you like this again rather just your happy smiling self.

━━━━━━━༺۵༻━━━━━━━

I hope you enjoy it. I also will finish all the other request i have before i shut this account off (not deleting) for a while because im planning to do something else and with work and all it will take a lot of my time.

If i find time again i of course would come back to writing here.

#gender neutral reader #x reader #romantic #request #random #ramattra x reader #ramattra ow #ramattra overwatch #ramattra #ow ramattra #overwatch headcanons #ow x reader

[sublimecatgalaxy]

another one! what about “when was the last time you actually managed to let go?” and “c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” with daryl? im still only on season 7, so any era before that is fine :)

LOVE THIS. THE MINUTE I READ THE QUOTES I KNEW WHAT SCENE I HAD TO USE.

"You fucking shot him?" Andrea's quick to climb down from on top of the RV as Rick and T-Dog go running out into the field, tossing their guns aside. My heart drops to my stomach as I watch Daryl fall to the ground, my feet freezing to the ground for a few moments as my brain processes what I just watched.

Before I can stop myself, I slam Andrea into the RV, a loud groan leaving her as I grunt, my eyes flicking across her expression. "Are you an idiot?" I seethe, shoving her against the metal every time she tries to push me away.

"I thought it was a walker!" She argues and I laugh bitterly, pushing away from her before I beat in her pretty face with the butt of my gun.

"Well you though wrong you dumb fucking bimbo." I throw over my shoulder as I jog out into the field, my heart weighing heavily in my chest as I watch the men carry a barely awake Daryl in their arms.

"Meet us inside, Y/n, you can help him there." Rick orders as they trudge by me, my eyes flickering over Daryl's beaten up state. I follow them aimlessly as they try desperately to keep Daryl upright.

By the time they get him settled in the farmhouses guest room he's awake, groaning and trying to writhe around in pain. I'm immediately at his side, trying my best to comfort him as he tries to calm down.

"Daryl, it's okay- Hershel's gonna fix you up." I offer but he just curses under his breath, sinking into the bed as the weight of his injuries and exhaustion takes over him. "You shouldn't have gone out there alone." I chastise but he just scoffs.

"When was the last time you actually managed to let go- just stop fucking worrying all the damn time." He grits, his eyes finding mine the minute the words leave his lips and his face drops. I sink in on myself as he sighs, reaching out to grab my hands.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. You're hurt-"

"'m sorry. Shouldn't have snapped." He mutters, hissing as he tries to scoot closer to me. "You my nurse?" He asks with a tired smirk and my chest rumbles in laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, make all the jokes you want." I lean forward, pressing a simple, delicate kiss to his forehead as he lets out a relieved sigh. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy

d@steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht @savageneversaw @admiringlove @starlightandfairies

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fic

[mxstas]

2:19 am - baji keisuke

prompt: fixing up bajis wounds

genre: fluff, a little angsty

warnings: tr spoilers‼️, blood, bruises, scars, mention of fighting, gn! reader, alternate valhalla arc ending, mention of stabbing oneself, baji isn’t dead in this.

wc: 746

it was never a surprise to see baji at your doorstep all beaten and bruised. he knows how upset it makes you to see him like that, yet he liked the comfort it gave him when you would help patch him up.

one day, baji yet again, showed up on your doorstep. It was late in the night and you were wondering what he could be doing at this time to make him end up like this. you opened the door to see his knuckles red and bloody. he had a bruise forming on his cheekbone and some blood smeared above his top lip. he stayed silent as he stood there with an awkward smile on his face.

you stared at him with an almost disappointed look as you sighed and let him in. “the usual?“ you ask. it wasn’t necessarily supposed to come off as a joke but baji chuckled anyways. “you know it” he replies.

he goes to sit in his usual spot, the corner of your dining table. you went and got the first aid kit and started to work on his hands first. you cleaned the blood off of them, searching for any scratches that could be on his hands or arms. of course, you find a couple and you begin to pat at them with a damp, alcohol filled cotton ball.

“this might sting a bit” you say. you can hear him wince a bit, but other than that he had no complaints, unlike how he did when you first started your duty as his nurse.

you moved on to his face. you wiped off the blood under his nose and pressed on his cheekbone where the bruise was.

“does is hurt when i touch it?” you asked.

“yeah, maybe you should kiss it and it’ll feel better” baji remarked with a smile.

you press on the bruise harder. “ow ow! im joking, im joking!!…sorta” he says through giggles. his smile is contagious, you cant help but smile a bit too.

“take it off” you say. he knew you were referring to his shirt so that you could see if there were more bruises or cuts. he slipped it off and you examined his torso. there weren’t any cuts but there were bruises scattered across his abs.

you scanned down his chest, only to be met with a pale, sharp oval shape. you stared at it for a bit before place your hand over it and rubbing the spot with your thumb. it was the scar baji had gotten when he stabbed himself during the fight between Toman and Valhalla.

it was also the scar he got the day he confessed to you, before passing out from blood loss. luckily he survived, it was a miracle to everybody. but ever sense then, the weight of the situation still follows you. watching baji come home like this makes you worry about what could happen while you aren’t there with him.

you place your head on his shoulder, not looking away from the scar. bajis stomach drops with guilt. he hates to see you like this, he hates that you have to worry about him the way that you do.

he begins to rub shapes on your back as a way to hopefully soothe you. baji wasn’t all that good with words so he sticks to physical contact as a way to show what he feels, which explains his expressive violence. he places a couple of kisses on your forehead and the side of your face. finally you decide to speak up.

“baji please….just….be more careful next time” you plea.

“i will. i promise.” he mumbles in the crook of your neck.

once you were done patching him up you got rid of all the first aid stuff. you started to walk away before baji gently grabs your arm, efficiently stopping you in your tracks.

“i think your forgetting something”, he said as he pats that bruise on his cheekbone. you sigh and peck his cheek before trying to walk away again. key word, *trying*.

“you missed a spot.” he says before you could get to far. he pouts his lips out and taps them. “your a child”, you say while giggling. you place a chaste kiss to his lips as he returns the favor. he cups your face in his hands and mutters between kisses.

“i love you, ok? ill be more careful for you.” he says reassuringly. “i love you so much”

a/n: this was a lot more angst then i intended but whatever. im bored and i couldnt get this thought outta my head so🤷‍♀️ also probably a lot of grammar mistakes. i wrote this at like 12-2 am so.

#baji fluff #baji imagines #baji x you #tokyo revengers baji #toman baji #baji keisuke #baji x reader #tokyo revengers #mxstas

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

honestly i feel like i never talk about the crushing psychological repercussions of anti cheating on jameson with marvin

like. jameson has withstood some pretty frightening and horrific things by anti's hands. he has had bottles smashed over his head and has been slammed into the tile floor in the kitchen until his head started bleeding and has been nearly strangled to death on multiple occasions. hes been beaten to bloody pulps and whipped with belts and sexually abused and screamed at and stabbed and had his bones broken, often times for no real reason.

and he withstands these things for many reasons. but the one thing he always tells himself, constantly, is that deep down, anti loves him. just like he always has, anti still, still loves him. they are married forever, to have and to hold, and jameson is anti's one and only. jameson gives so, so much of himself, body and soul and even any scraps left over to anti. he gives everything he possibly can, so much love and attention and forgiveness for everything anti does to him.

and so when jameson finds that anti fell for someone else, that anti decided to lie to jameson's face that he was working late when in reality he was out partying and making out with his new fancy magician partner, well, he was pretty angry. at first.

because of course hes going to feel betrayed and hurt. and for a short time he doesnt talk to anti and anti doesnt talk to him. but after a few days, the sting starts turning into something else. and jameson starts to wonder, well, why did anti go for someone else? was...was i not good enough?

and so he wants to know. he asks anti about marvin. he wants to know how they met and why anti wanted marvin over him. but there is nothing healthy about how anti feels about jameson, and so he just...ignores him. he locks himself in his office or goes out with his rifle to shoot things in the woods.

jameson doesnt get anything. no half-hearted apologies, nothing along the lines of "oh honey, they arent anything like you, i promise it wont happen again," no excuses, no answer.

jameson tries talking to his husband. anti ignores him. he cooks for him. anti doesnt eat it. he tries making any conversation in bed. anti sleeps on the couch.

while anti is busy plotting out where the egos are hiding and how he can have all of them as puppets, jameson is falling apart. what did he do? what did he do that would make the love of his life choose someone else? is he not good enough? anti's mail-order bride, his perfect groom, his everything; its not enough? oh, anti please, please just talk to me, he begs, the motions of his hands being purposefully ignored.

there is an ice pick splitting his chest apart. he cant sleep. he stays awake because of how bad it hurts. he sits on the floor of the shower until the water goes cold, trying not to hyperventilate thinking about how his suffering was for nothing, how anti doesnt love him, how hard he tries, every fucking day, to be good, to be loving. and its not enough for anti.

jameson catches him in the hall and asks, over and over, am i not enough? am i not enough? what did i do wrong? i try very hard, my love, you are all that i have, i love you so much, please, just tell me how i can fix this, how i can be better for you, please, anti, i love you, im so sorry, please. would hitting me make you feel better? would you like that? i won't cry this time, i promise, i just want you to love me again.

was my cooking stale? was i bad at conversation? am i not good in bed? do you not like how i play our piano for you every day? do you dislike my paintings? is the garden not beautiful enough? is my love for you not to your liking? am i not to your liking? do these wedding rings mean nothing anymore? does the ugly scar on my left thigh that boasts your name not appeal to you? oh please, anti, love, please, tell me, tell me how i can be good, tell me how i can make you happy, i'd do anything for you, anything at all, please, oh, please, i love you, i'm sorry for anything that made you unhappy, please, i love you, i love you, i love you.

jameson sobs on the floor, apologizing for something he didn't do, begging for any scrap of affection or meaning or love that his husband is willing to give. he cries and anti steps over his body and closes the door to his office and there is nothing more that jameson wants in that moment than to die.

theres a reason why he doesn't like talking to marvin.

#yea. #ego posting #jameson jackson #abuse tw #domestic violence tw #ask to tag

[solardick]

Honestly? I dotn think im surviving. Get me out of this fake reality. Out of this hell. Leave me alone.

Its only just me. Everyone else is fake, playing the script manipulating me forward. How many more years? Ever since childhood it doeant stop. They wont leave me be. Always shipping me around, always hurting. Always controlling.

Im dead inside. Theres only silence at home. Detach from all of them. Theres only detachment. Only disconnection. Don’t fight to change that. Its only more pain. And im allowed to build up my life on my own.

No prayers can help. Not while they keep working you over. Day in day out. Year after year. After year after year after year after ywar after year after year after ywar after year after year. It doesnt end.

What control do i have? I can eat and bathe and walk. And…. Thats about it. No need controling myself when theres other people to do that for me. Theres nonone to talk to. Hasnt been in a good 15 years or so. Its just me surrounded by assholes.

Nothing like being framed and judge for everything that ails the family. While they cheat it and dont have a pay a dime. Cause i am. I was always nice and supportive of the gay community. Now. Fuck all of them. After spending the last eight years being abused by fucken cocksuckers. And the degenerate druggies. Ny famiky is right fuck the gays. As i sat there time after time again watching them fag bash people. While i always showed a hand. Im done.

Come now X-con continue putting ice on the street maybe you’ll ruin anothr life. One poor guy. Will try it. It’ll put them down a negative path by supporting and the next thing you now. All the posiive rhey would have created to the world gets perverted. And they become a problem. And taxes will have to go up another fraction of a dollard. Do they can continue doing drugs rhey get cheeper than the the price for food.

As for omens, there is always a crow forshadowing violence and homosexuality. After the last few years of studying this phenomenon. been set as fact. Ill trust in god. The rest of you may choke on my giant dick.

Wverytime ive ever asked for guidance in life i was told to go fuck myself. 30+ years and counting. And then god shows up. And starts doing it. But its hard to listen cause the entirw fucken planet is manipulating me to the contrary. I pray gid pushed the recent button in. Ny lifetime. I want to it.

Go Jamie. Not the best voice or sound but, it works.

Canada aka the defeated kingdom. Theres nothing in life to love. Run and refuel on hatred. Not my choice but. Don’t have one either. What the fuck does man know? I just get punished for everything i don’t deserve and what i do. I don’t. Life is only a mind fuck. Alwasy was. Its just get more sophisticated as one ages away.

Well until life becomes authentic. Theres nothingni can do but hold on. As they continue raping my spyche insode out.

Got to wait out the whatever ive been dosed with again. It’ll take awhile. Hello devil. How are you? Good? Fantastic.

I use my third year as the horoscope. Its better. With a jupiter pluto opposition. Venus mars trine sun moon conjunction. Another year of being shipped to a new home. Again. Astrologicay. I was born on the worst date in history. AIDS! Fight the fight! Got to fix the damage and make this place more friendly for you. Also the time when i was paired to be trapped sharing the same room with a pluto oppostion sun. And all life goes to deeper into hell. To a life of sex and secrecy. Year after year. With a boy and with a girl. Until puberty and then….. i quit the addiction. The only sense of intimacy there was. Safe from all the violence. And the cruelty. Well there goes the only source of nourishment. Fall off the wagen. Burn in hell for eternity. Spend the nect couple decades being beaten down into and unstable deliquent mess, drugged on gods knows what. Carnage and violence. Year after years. People taking liberties with my life. On and on. Place after place. Job after job. Persona after person. No peace just chaos. Setting me up firther done the line to be raped soem more. And never have any healthy frame of mind. To build myself up. Just in solitude no one to speak with. More desperate in each passing year.

Thrirty years worh the mother in all that time i had like one estranged converstaion woth the woman. All intent on repairing the situation. Curbed. I was born to be abused into suicide.

And so the new home life starts being paired to a pluto opposition. With a jupiter Pluto oppostion squaring mars and violence. All those raised voices yelling over everything i did. The constant pressure aided and supported the secrecy and the stress. For it was the only thing available at the time to take its place. Everyone blows shit out of propertion with me. Always have. Or the biased drain fule to cause damage. Because people are like that apperently. Always was a pluto oppostion. And there always will be because its generational and all those 90’s punk CS arw always present. Alwasy causing damange and putting themselves over me. As the do caaled master. Their job it to disrupt natural flow. Into a state of i dividyality from stark. For them nature is the enemy.

And they made sure i cant find another job, because i need to be conditioned and controled and owned and never experiencing any sense of autheticity or power of the self.

And now i havento go around pretending everyon eis my friend when in actuallity. No one is. Their all enemies. People only cause me harm. And always have. All the way back to my forst memory. Thats all life is. And if they are froendly its because they have drugs to offer or manipualtion to fulfill.

Fake it till i make it, uh? Too bad im not thr one doing the faking. Ugh. I always had a dream to do soemthign that matters. To make a name. To extend myself onto the world. And fulfill tge purpose of contributing. Since. I can’t breed and i cant create. Life is pointless. So here all that potential gets poured faciliting the effort of owning me.

God, pls fucken kill me. Like the latest girl you sent to fuck with me. Which confuses me. Cause she actually did love me. It was obvious. She loved me for the breaking of unhealthy habits and entropic affairs. She projected that part of herself onto me. She loved me because i was supportive, but i was just a sexual object. I tried fixing that. Tried to bring into my home. Create a dialogue. But no. Wouldnt even look em in the eye. Only when she outs herself over me. Or she staired at me from the side or from behind. And now they switch her out and put the giy whos supposed to catch my mars. Got to project that shit. And ive never invited anyone over before. That be the first time.

Well you got sexual harrasment ltg girl. But that was out of desperation during hoghtened vulnerability while they were busy dosing me and raping my mind.

How well, she’ll be a great mum of a couple of kids one day. And own a house. With lots of happy memories. Bye luv. I always have a welcoming hand. Even theough everyone abuses it to cause me harm. I dont know how else to be.

Maybe i should just go back to being the creature that i was. Bent on the satisfaction of desires without mind for anything else. Since in not allowed to feel human. Maybe if they were wealthy and i could, just spend my days studying the feminine oracle practices and watched tv everyday. Instead of going to work. Maybe i’d create something awesome. That would support the new age effemination of mankind. Since i have no say over my own life. And since thats the only part of me im allowed to develop. Ive been debased so much in life. That i deserve nothing else.

I just want another fucken person in my life. Man. I cant function on my own. And im always alone.

And ill never have the eyes for astrology. To be able to read a chart and how it develops. Wont be able to rewind and fastforward through time. Like the professionals do. Especially not not after having more of myself being repressed. While others get oppressed. If a lose a lose. And since most if it is by the work of others. Im blind to it. Because i dont have it with me. They do.

And it’s not what you’re doing, it’s that you’re doing it. No type Os here. Its the only silver lining. Thr only pillar that doesnt fall. In this ruin of a toxic wasteland dumbed on and regulated by thr outside. And there’ll never be enough “pillars” to be able to do anything with it supporting someones else weight. Theres a corner over there that still has floor. Pull up a chair and have a sit.

Think they gave me hormone thearapy.

nyway i was going to quit amokign but then i realized my entire reality is fake. And theres not a single person ay work want i want to hang with. Theri all cockcsuckers. Un the degenrate crossdrsseing body shaving drug dealing criminal or the effeminate litle forwign iid whos sings female pop song hits. Igh no

#Spotify

[anyu-blue]

~

#personal #random #ignore me #life in general #ranting in tags #🙄 #part of the reason we never get anywhere is because I'm always the one instigating and giving two shits #im tired of it. tired of caring yet being told what I'm doing is not something they want #and then trying to fix it only to be beaten down when im asking for give and take #saying i want too much and I'm putting all this pressure and not giving anything back... #when I'm only asking AFTER integrating things they've asked of me and doing it regularly #like... it's not enough. i even point that out- i certainly did yesterday- and then suddenly it's all #about other issues... like ?????.....?????!!!!! #>:( W.T.F. batman... I'm so angry. and I'm so SICK of being the bad guy #sure. maybe tevs is right... I'm the only stupid person who gives a shit about this or that #the only person who can't seem to coexist peacefully (ie who gets continuously triggered) #... i get that im a problem. possibly THE problem... it hurts. it sucks. but if the boot fits #I'm not running away from it. i do my best. jist sucks when no matter who i try with... it's never good enough #just being ME feels so wrong.... i know parts are due to trauma and lack of social stuff... i know #and i am actively in therapy and researching and working on it and trying my hardest #I'm putting in a lot of effort... and yet.. they jist get to exist... and tell me I'm #wrong in so many way when i ask for something to work in ky favor a little more #for them to work WITH me... i thought *i* hated change... but.... i can't believe how easily i adapt #must be all the trauma. both previous and ongoing... doesn't mean i do it right. but I get it #working well enough to keep going until the next rest stop as it were...

[kisstheassassins]

Hi there😊May I request a HC with Connor and SO who is an assassin in The Tyranny of King, but in this SO doesn't remember him when he finds her in the same prison as Kanen'tó:kon hanging by her wrists being tortured by a bluecoat(similar to what happened to Leliana in DA Inquisition). Also she would the same person he originally knew, but cold & kind of emotionless. Not to mention she wouldn't trust him either. Lol sorry that got dark, but thank you for taking the time to read this!

I hope this is to your liking 😊

Also im using (p/n) as your preferred pronouns.

The two men had finally been liberated from the prison they were held in, but Kanen had one last thing to do here before he could finally leave.

There they were at a four-way cross section of the jail, with Kanen looking around at each hallway as if he were trying to remember something.

"What is it?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked his friend; his hand was pulling on Kanen's arm to make him hurry, but he pulled away.

"We cannot leave yet," the other man says, running down one of the halls. If Connor hadn't trusted his friend he would have gone the other way, but he follows close behind.

They find themselves at a closed door, and behind it a voice can be heard. It's cold and harsh, and upon creaking the door open Kanen realizes its not just one person, but two. You hang by your wrists from the ceiling by chains, feet barely hitting the floor as you gasp for each breath.

"I know that there were more of you," the guard says harshly. He has some sort of blunt weapon in his hand to strike you when he thinks you're either lying, or doesn't like the answer you give him. Your face is bloodied and bruised.

"Beat me all you want," you growl, "I'm not saying a damn thing. You and your false King can rot in hell."

Your voice rang through Ratonhnhaké:tons ears like a cannon firing just beside him. His breath quickens as he and Kanen rush in just before the guard strikes you, startling him.

However, before they can reach him your legs wrap around his neck tightly, using your chains to lift you up and choke the man with your limbs. You apply more pressure with each passing minute, and eventually jerk your hips sideways to result the sound of his neck snapping. His body slumps to the floor, as well as your legs. You're exhausted.

Kanen moves the dead body to the side and searches for the key while Ratonhnhaké:ton looks you over. He's still trying to process that he even found you, let alone in this prison. And the state of you; it made him sick to see you so beaten. He always promised to protect you and to prevent this type of thing.

"Took your bloody time," you say, an exasperated smile gracing your lips. Kanen unlocks the braces one by one, and Ratonhnhaké:ton helps you stand when each hand is free. You can't help but fall to the floor, and he helps you down gently. Kanen kneels on the other side of you.

"I don't particularly enjoy leaving my friends behind," he says. You rub your wrists and wince at the pain; no doubt these bruises would be here a while.

Your eyes meet the other man's, suspicion building up the more he stares. His eyes are soft and his mouth is partially open like he wants to say something.

"Friend of yours?" you ask, looking up at Kanen. He nods.

"More like a brother. This is Ratonhnhaké:ton."

You both lock eyes again, and a sense if warmth and familiarity fill your chest. It confuses you; you know you have never met this man in your life, so why are you so..... fuzzy?

You nod at him in greeting.

"(Y/n)," you say, and even though he knows it, he smiles to you anyway.

Kanen and Ratonhnhaké:ton help you stand up and keep you close to support your legs, as it was somewhat difficult to walk after the beatings you received.

"Go on ahead," Ratonhnhaké:ton says, "I'll help (p/n)."

With just you two now following a ways behind Kanen, Connor has a close grip on you and you can't help but notice how closely he watches you. You don't have to look to know, but you can feel his eyes on you.

You try to break the wall with small talk.

"Thanks for doing this," you say, "uh.... " A laugh escapes you. "Sorry, I don't know how to say your name."

He knew it was coming, but he played a long.

"What would you like to call me then?" he asks softly. Your eyes meet his once again and you chuckle.

"My mentor," you begin, "he had a son. Died when he was only six." A pause. "Is Connor okay?"

The man smiles and nods, fixing his grip on your back. You fall in closer to him as your legs are still weak.

"It's perfect," he chuckles, but you weren't able to feel how his heart ached and yearned for you at that moment. "How about we get out of here, hm?"

-----

Benjamin Franklin had been attending to your wounds on your hands and wrists, while the other two who saved you leaned over a table discussing their next move for the revolution over Washington. You can't help but stare at Connor and wonder why he felt so familiar to you, but you never met the man.

"Something bothering you, (y/n)? " Ben asks. You keep your eyes focused.

"How come I've never met Connor," you say. Your friend looks to where you are looking.

"You mean Ratonhnhaké:ton?"

Your eyes glance to Ben and then back.

"We settled on Connor since I can't pronounce his name," you say.

Ben finishes up wrapping the bandages around the cut on your palm, watching you wince as he tucks the fabric in.

"Well," he begins, "I don't think Kanen'tó:kon expected to find his friend here in the midst of all this. He went to war with Washington even before Ratonhnhaké:ton and his mother did."

You sit up off the table and pulls your sleeves down over your bandages.

"Do you trust him?"

"He's been very helpful so far," he states, "in fact, I believe he's done more for us in the past week than we have in a month. I dont think you have anything to worry about."

----

A brief war table meeting later, and everyone has departed to complete their duty for the day, leaving you to rest and Connor to go over what he had missed over the past few weeks. You find yourself beside him staring at the wall of photos and drawings that you and your colleagues had collected for evidence and tracking. Connor stares up at Washington, eyes malice and eager to find the man.

"You seem to have a personal vendetta with him," you say, more so than we do."

Connor looks to you and then back at the wall, exhaling sharply.

"He has done a lot of harm and damage to my people, as well as the rest of the world. My home was burned, my people enslaved."

He stops a moment to collect himself and take a deep breath, almost preparing himself for what he had to say next.

"He... murdered my mother. My father."

You swallow the lump in your throat; people were lucky enough to survive Washington's wrath, let alone escape it. A majority of those here weren't so lucky.

"I'm sorry," you say softly.

A few moments pass and you can't help but stare at him, that feeling familiarity hitting you dead in the chest again. Your palms are sweaty too, you notice, and you're chewing the inside of your cheek. Connor glances your way and turns his head when he sees you.

"What?" he says. You exhale sharply.

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" He shakes his head. "I feel like I've seen you before and its driving me mad."

Connor shifts in his spot, thinning his lips and staring at you, waiting, as if he wanted to speak. But he doesn't. Instead he watches you get closer.

"I don't normally trust people so easily," you say, "but seeing Kanen being so open and close to you, I feel like I can too. Don't take me the wrong way Connor, but you feel real familiar to me and I don't know why."

He smiles sheepishly, memories if you flooding his mind back in.... his original world. All of this surely had to be a nightmare.

"Perhaps we should work together," he begins, "see where this goes from here."

You smile at him and he does the same for you, making you chuckle. You pat his arm and make way upstairs; he is in close pursuit.

He prayed to his ancestors nothing happened to you after this.

#ask #answer #ac #assassins creed #connor kenway #connor #ac3 #connor kenway x reader #drabble #assassins creed x reader

[teddy06writes]

Take Me Back To The Night We Met

Dallas Winston x Johnny Cade x Reader

trigger warnings: character death, swearing, yelling, ANGST

premise: based on the song The Night We Met by Lord Huron. The rumbles been finished, the socs officially driven out, but Johnny's still dying, and Dally might not be able to handle that. Oh god, why can't you just go back to the night you met

Italics- memories

{not me making the first proper poly outsiders story really angsty. Sorry not sorry but I heard the song and- this happened}

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

"We did it! The socs are gone!" The loud cheers of the greasers filled your ears.

You grinned, laughing along with the others until you found Dallas tugging at your arm, when you turned to see his expression your face fell, "What's wrong?"

"Johnny- gettin worse-"

As soon as your partner choked out the words you began to panic, "Is he okay?"

"I don't know for how much longer... We gotta go see him-"

You nodded, "Lets- lets go then- we gotta-"

"He- Ponyboy-" He was quickly running off, dragging the boy off the ground and explaining as you ran up to the street, where you could see Buck's beat up t-bird parked.

"Hurry up! Hurry up!" You could hear Dally urging him along.

"I'm going!" Ponyboy hissed, quickly skirting around you and jumping into the back.

You quickly got in, and as soon as Dallas got the car started you were shooting off down the road.

The tension in the car was thick, anxiety rolling off all three of you in waves.

It was a few months ago and You'd just gotten out of work, and normally Johnny and Dallas would be on the corner waiting for you, but they hadn't been there. Somehow, you knew something was wrong.

By the time you'd made it to the lot, most of the gang was there. Steve met you up by the road, '(y/n) don't go down there- you- you aren't gonna like it'

That was what had gotten you in a panic, 'steve whats going on?'

'it's- it's- Johnny-'

Immediately you were pushing past him, running down into the lot, even as both Steve and Soda tried to stop you.

When you'd finally pushed through them, you'd found Johnny, beaten and bloody, face buried in Dally's jacket, still sobbing.

'oh- god Johnny...'

With Dally's speeding it was only a matter of time before a cop was pulling the car over, and you glanced back at Ponyboy, "Look sick- I will too- Dal say your taking us to the hospital, it's true enough."

He nodded, and the cop knocked on the window, leaning over as Dallas lowered it, "Good evening Officer-"

"Alright Bud, where's the fire?"

"The uh- the kid-" Dally gestured back to where Ponyboy was slumped in the back, "Fell over on 'is motorcycle- nearly took out the babe, I'm takin 'em to the hospital."

The man frowned, "Are they real bad? Could you use an escort?"

"Do I look like a doc to you?" He snapped, "Yeah we could use an escort."

The officer seemed to hear the panic in his voice as he nodded, heading back to his car. Dallas continued to tap his fingers on the wheel anxiously, "Come on, come on."

You bit your lip, "God Dal why'd we end up in this mess- Johnny's-"

"I knew I was wrong. I knew I was fucking wrong," He muttered, pulling out behind the cop, "I was just trying to protect you guys- you know? Figured there's only room for one person hard like me in a relationship- you know? That way you two would at least be okay and look what fucking came from it!"

You took a shaky breath as he slapped the wheel, "Dal..."

"You know if I hadn't tried to keep you and him from ending up like me he wouldn't be in this mess! If he'd been smart like me he wouldn'ta ran into that church and you wouldn't have followed him! That's what you get for helping people- isn't it? A couple editorials in the paper and a whole lotta hurt!"

He stopped, glancing back at Ponyboy, "You better wise up kid- you get tough like me and you don't get hurt! You get tough and no one can touch you!"

Ponyboy only groaned in response.

Dallas sighed, turning to look at you, "God (y/n) I don't know- what are we gonna do if we-"

"He's going to be fine Dal!" You snapped.

"You don't know that!"

You shook your head, "He's gonna be fine because I don't want to think about what will happen if he isn't!"

It was only a month or so after Dallas, Dallas of all people, put what the three of you were thinking into words.

You'd decided to take a trip down to Texas, there was no real reason, but still, the three of you had piled into Buck Merril's t-bird, racing down back roads and pulling off into fields at night.

Johnny had fallen asleep in the back just after sunset, and you could still feel the cool glass behind your head, 'god dal, aren't you tired yet? maybe we should pull off now...'

'I was thinking we get a motel somewhere.' he yawned.

'where are we gonna find a motel at? I'm about ready to fall asleep as it is...'

He chuckled, 'don't worry about it Doll... hell climb back with Johnny, I'll wake you up when we get to town.'

Soon you were pulling up outside the hospital, hurrying to get Pony out of the car as Dallas thanked the cop. As soon as the man was gone Dally was grabbed your hand and pulling you to hurry through the building, "Come on, come on!"

It seemed to take only the blink of an eye to get to Johnny's room, and you only half seemed to register the doctors words, "I'm sorry- he's dying."

"We gotta see 'im," Dallas glared at the man, "We've got to see him!"

"Please-" You half choked on the room, trying to look around him into the room.

With a sigh, he stepped to the side, "Go on-"

In an instant you were rushing to Johnny's side, "Johnny..."

You could feel Dallas behind you, "Johnnycake?"

"Heya (y/n)- Dal..." Johnny tried to pull a weak smile as he looked up at you.

"We won-" Dallas reached out, grabbing his hand, "We beat the socs- chased 'em right out of your territory."

"Fighting's no good.... useless...." Johnny half sighed.

You took a shaky breath, "There still writing those editorials- talkin about you, calling you a hero-- I'm proud of you baby-- we both are."

Dallas nodded, and Johnny's head half tipped back in a grin, "You'll be okay... I love you..."

"Johnny--" Dallas half choked.

Ponyboy elbowed past both of you, "He's my best friend--"

Your eyes were half clouded with tears as you stepped back, little moments filling your memory.

It was the state fair, and you were with them.

'come on Dal- your not scared of the ferris wheel are you?' Johnny half taunted.

you grinned, 'you've gotta go on- for us'

'i hate both of you'

Johnny mumbled something to Ponyboy, and then suddenly the room wasn't the same anymore. Almost as if someone had left. You didn't need to look back at the bed to know.

It was a late night, months ago

'(y/n)... (y/n).... (y/n)....'

'what dal?'

'johnnycakes is complaing about wanting cuddles'

Johnny scoffed, 'uh, excuse me, but that is entirely you, Dal.'

you chuckled 'i'll be there in a second'

He was gone.

You could hear Ponyboy's breath hitch, and, with shaky hands you reached forward, pushing hair out of Johnny's face, "Never could keep that hair of yours back could you baby?"

Dallas let out a noise that felt too close to a sob, "that's what you get for trying to help people Jonnycakes- that's what you get."

The lump in your throat couldn’t be pushed back anymore and you choked on a sob, tears falling from your eyes as you turned to Dallas only to see he wasn’t there.

He'd already whirled away from Johnny's bed, banging a fist against the wall, "Damn it Johnny! Oh god Johnny no..."

Dallas was gone down the hall before you could blink.

In a haze, you found yourself following Ponyboy through the hospital, being handed a jacket it took you a beat to long to remember was Johnny's.

Slowly you slid it on, almost instantly dragged back in memory again.

It was been late.

You hadn't planned on going out, but when you saw the light out in the lot you had to check it out. You'd found Johnny and Dally, sitting around a small fire they'd made.

'what are you doing out here?' you asked, sitting down.

Johnny shrugged, 'better than home.'

'beats rotting there.' Dallas nodded.

You had sat in silence for a few minutes before you sighed, rubbing at your arms, "awfully cold out here.'

'here' Johnny shrugged off his jacket, dropping it around your shoulders.

You were grateful for the jacket, but it didn't feel right. God all you wanted to do was go back, back to before all of this.

Somehow Ponyboy led you out of the hospital, and by some miracle you made it back to the Curtis house.

Soda opened the door, frowning, "What's wrong? Where have you two been?"

Ponyboy took a shaky breath, "Johnny's dead... Dallas- he left- (y/n)... I don't think they..."

Soda was already pulling you inside, and pushing you to sit down as Pony explained to everyone else.

"What do you mean Dallas is gone?" Darrel asked.

"He ran out," Your own voice surprised you, "Before it was the three of us it was just him and Johnny- he doesn't know how to live without him-"

"So even Dally has a breaking point." Two-Bit muttered.

Distantly, you heard a phone ring.

It has been a date night- ‘god (y/n) why you takin so long?'

'don't rush 'em Johnnycakes, gotta fix that pretty face of theirs'

'Johnny's being pushy? that's something I wouldn't think I'd see.' you chuckled, coming out of the bathroom.

'well the movies gonna start!'

Darry was talking to the group, "That was Dally- the cops are after him, we gotta meet 'im at the lot-"

Before the words were out of his mouth you were up and running, you couldn't get back to Johnny but you could still get back to Dallas.

It was midday, and you were wandering down the Tulsa streets

'Dal slow down! We don't walk as fast as you!' Johnny called.

He laughed, 'i bet if you tried you could keep up shortstack'

'i'm not short!' you protested.

'well then keep up!'

Down the street, toward the lot, faster, faster faster, you urged yourself. You can't loose him too.

it was early, you were sitting out on the porch with Johnny, watching the rain. Dallas had come out of somewhere, running and breathing hard, 'you got room for one more?'

You could almost see the lot, it was just out of view, you had to hurry, had to hurry to get back-

It was lunch time and you were at the diner with the gang, wedged into a seat between Johnny and Dallas, laughing.

The glow of the street light filled your vison now.

It was dark and you and Dallas hurried through the street, calling out for Johnny.

'i'm here! I'm here!' he called.

You threw your arms around him, 'you scared me!'

Dallas chuckled, 'both of us.'

Dallas was sprinting down the street glancing back every now and again, distantly you could see flashing lights behind him.

It was Autumn and you were back at the fair in the chilly night. Lights were flashing, people were laughing and you were with your boys.

Dallas was reaching back, into his waistband, grabbing something as police cars came to a halt.

It was spring, and day trips were frequent, but this was the first with just you, Dallas and Johnny. You'd found a lake, and now the three of you were spending a day by it's side.

Dallas was raising the gun, but so were the police officers, distantly you wondered if one of them was the same that had given you the escort.

It was years ago, and you had met Sodapop in class.

Shots were being fired, and you could distantly hear yourself yelling, he was falling, falling falling.

It was years ago and Sodapop was inviting you to meet his friends. It was years ago and a boy with big brown eyes was smiling at you from across the lunch table, turning to the sharp nosed blond next to him, who leaned across the table to tell a joke.

Dallas was on the ground, and as the gang who at some point caught up to you were screaming at the officers who'd put him there.

You crumpled to the ground. No, not him. Not Johnny. Not the both of them.

"Oh god take me back!" You were yelling, sobbing, as they were trying to take him away, "Take me back to when we first met! Maybe we won't fuck it up this time!"

But Soda was pulling you back, even as you promised, "I wouldn't let you fuck it up this time- just take me back!"

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dally winston x readre #dally x reader #johnny x reader #johnny cade x reader #johnny cade #teddy06 #teddy 06 #teddy 06 writes #teddy06 writes

[violetnotez]

HC: Tending to Their Wounds

Just some soft headcannon for my 2k Celebration! You can check out the original post here

Pairings: Mirio x reader, Shoto x reader, Bakugo x reader

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Mirio

This dude^^^^right here^^^^\

HAS 0 CONCEPT OF PAIN

Like he feels it he KNOWS its theree

He just CHOOSES to ignore it

he could have literal slashes all over his body and insists that he’s okay

He main priority is to get healed ASAP of course

BUT HE WONT SIT DOWN

he will be cracking dad jokes, insisting he’s fine when he’s clearly NOT

You cant even get ahold of him hes just soooo fast

He will only really chill out if you FORCE him and he sees how nervous he’s making you

Its gonna be wierd cause he gonna be worried about you

Lots of soft touches, asking if your doing alright, and cracking jokes to make you smile

Honestly this baby has a heart of golddddd

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Mirio, please Im begging you-” you sighed, your feet scrambling to keep up with the hero, the first aid kit clanking in your hands.

“Begging me? Geez, didnt realize you were that  worried!” he laughed good naturedly, his body sauntering over to open the refrigerator door. “Honestly, babe, Im fine, honestly!”

You squinted your eyes at him, his arms outstretched as if to show you just how “fine” he was.

What a big ass lie- his suit was in shambles, his skin scraped and dusted with dirt...he was a wreck.

“Mirio, you look like you got hit by a bus,” you stated plainly, your face clearly not buying his remarks.

He simply laughed at you, his beaten body reaching into the fridge and pulling out some food.

“Ah, c’mon, y/n, you gotta believe me, Im feeling perfectly fine!”

Oh, so now he wanted to make food?! When he looked like that, completely trashed and bruised?! 

You shook your head, your lips pursed- deseprate time called for desperate measures.

MIrio began to look through the drawers, trying to find some utensils in the small kitchen.

“Hey, sunshine, do you know where the-uh,uh- sunshine?”

You had his tattered suit balled in your hand, your body pressed up against his own. You face was mere inches away from his, his blue eyes wide with shock as you kissed him square on his mouth. 

Mirio dropped the loaf of bread in his hand, his digits wrapping around your waist and giving it a squeeze as your hands began to work his suit off his battered torso.

Mirio smiled on to your lips at the feeling of you working his clothes off him.

“So this was why you were desperate-” he chuckled softly,his hands pushing you flushed against your body.

He was quickly snapped away from his hazy thoughts once he felt you push away, your hands quickly opening up the first aid kit and getting some supplies out.

“Nope- I just needed to give you a distraction,” you smirked at the boy, his pout making  you laugh

Mirio  gave you a sad look, his lips pouted out as if like a child.

“Ah cmon sunshine, now thats just cruel,”

Shoto

Shoto has nerves made of STEEL

And same with his pain tolerance

You could probably give this boy stitches and he’d only wince like twice

Honestly it kinda scary how calm he can be

If your kinda new to bandaging people up, he’s got you COVERED

Like will guide your hands and tell you what to put on what wound, etc etc

Hes a sweeetyyyy pieeeee

He will be blushy hardcore tho, no matter how long you’ve known each other or how long you’ve been dating

Hes a soft baby, and the feeling of your hands on his bare skin makes him melt into your touch

But even though he’s good at taking pain, make sure to remind him to breathe

Cause he has a tendency to hold his breathe, and it literally freaks you out when you see his lips turning purple lmao

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You had your legs cradled against Shoto’s thighs, your hands busy at work to patch up an open wound left on his chest. His hero suit was pooled around his navel, showcasing the beautifully pale skin of his torso.

You had to admit it- the boy was built like a god, and you couldnt be more pleased to be so close to him, even if it was because he was injured.

“Are you doing okay?” you asked quietly, looking at him with waiting eyes.

Shoto gulped, his cheeks gaining a little red hue- you were so cute sitting on his lap, and the way you looked at him could have made his heart stop from just pure happiness. He felt so calm yet so nervous around you, and he was intoxicated by the feeling.

“Y-yes, thank you,” he stuttered out, his tone a bit more flushed.

You simply smiled, happy he was feeling okay, continuing with your work- 

until you felt heat radiating under your legs. 

At first you didnt pay any mind to it, letting it seep into your pants and warm your skin...but it began to hurt a little, almost like if a laptop was burning under your thighs.

You cocked your head looking up at Shoto’s face, his eyes downcast as if lovesick and his cheeks a fiery red...he was flustered.

“Shoto,” you mused quietly, taking your finger and resting it against his chin. His eyes met yours quickly, those bi-colored eyes wide in an owlish expression.

“Yes y/n?” he asked nervously, his tone deep and rich like honey.

You gave him a small smirk, tilting your head ever so slightly. “Are you nervous? Because your kind of heating up on me-”

“Oh, I-Im sorry!” he instantly apologized, his hands wrapping around your outer thighs, “I wasnt paying attnetion, I-Ill cool you down...”

Shoto’s kept his hands cradled on your sides for the rest of the time you were working on his wounds, his face a reddened mess as he sent cold sensations down your skin.

Bakugo

He definitelllyyyyy got hurt from training, fighting Deku, or both

Your probably gonna have to get used to bandaging him up cause his pride wont let him get patched up 

but he will be too rough to properly fix himself up

tHIS LITTLE BRAT THO

He thinks he is being all tough,,,,

but honestly he’s not

Like he might be quiet at first, only a couple groans here and there-

but once you pull out that bottle of alcohol for his wounds hes gonna be FERAL

just throwing a damnnnnn temper tantrum

Once you get that part over with he’ll calm down...maybe even say thank you if your lucky smh

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(This scene was definitellllyyyyy inspired by Indiana Jones and Ive been DYING to write this since like Christmas)

“Shit y/n, it fucking hurts!” he yelled, his vermillion eyes a deep red as he spoke through gritted teeth.

He was holding his scratched arm away from you, shielding you from being able to properly clean it. You couldn't help but roll you eyes- yeah, cleaning the wound stings a little, but you it wasnt like you were doing durgery on him. He seriously was a little too much to deal with at time.

You leaned away from the whining boy, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. 

“So where does it not hurt then, Katsuki,”

Bakugo gave a sulky look, his eyes squinted at you as he pointed at his elbow

“-Here.”

You leaned forward quickly, your lips placing a soft kiss on the skin. Bakugo’s cheeks immediately erupted in red, his eyes wide and all pain erased from his face as he gazed at your slightly annoyed face.

“And-and here,” he stuttered out, his voice a little less forceful as he slowly pointed to his collarbone with bandaged digits.

This needy little prick-a small smirk enveloped on your face as you leaned in gently, careful to not press your body too much on his as you left a small kiss on his skin.

Bakugo watched you with wide eyes, his whole body tingling and the spots where you kissed him leaving electric sparks on his skin.

“Anywhere else?” you asked, your eyes glowing mischievously as you looked at he flustered boy.

He grunted slightly, his mouth swallowing thickly.

“And-and here,” he slowly stated, his hand pointing to his lips.

You simply rolled your eyes, your smile growing on your lips as you happily obliged to his request.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x reader hc #mha #mha x reader #mha x reader hc #bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader hc #shoto x reader #shoto x reader hc #mirio x reader #mirio x reader hc #bnha bakugo x reader #bakugo x reder #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #shouto x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #todorki x reader #mha todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #mha mirio #mirio x you #bnha mirio #my hero academia mirio #mirio x y/n

[thedancefloorsilly]

heyyy i'm glad you're back!! i hope school and everything is going ok for you :) i totally get it needing to take a break from stuff <3

i was wondering if i could request machi stitching up s/o with nen after getting seriously injured and how she would react? thanks againnnn <3

Machi Stitching Up Her Badly Injured S/o 

Heyy!! aww tysm :D school is getting a little better, I finished some major projects due AND I literally managed to do a 7 page science packet without procrastinating ?? im proud hehe. and YESS ofc more machi reqs yay !! have a great day anon <33

- For the past few weeks, you had been fighting at Heaven’s Arena to try and test your fighting skill. Unfortunately though, you had severely underestimated your opponents, and with that you were left BADLY injured from your miscalculations. So bad that you even blacked out.

- Unebknowest to you, Machi was actually watching from the crowd the whole, and witnessed the whole thing. Once she saw that you were being taken away by the medics, she immediately rushed to them to let her handle everything (though they were a little confused, but the cold expression Machi gave made them not want to mess with her, so they gave you to her to take care of it).

- So when you finally woke up, you felt yourself laying in a comfy bed (which turned out to be your room in Heaven’s Arena) instead of in the hospital, and in the corner of your eye you saw Machi waiting next to you. 

- Once she noticed that you were finally up, ohhh did she look mad, which was.. confusing? Did something happen to make her seem this way (and besides, why would she be mad at you if you were injured?). 

- She then firmly grabbed on of your arms to start with the stitching, but all without saying a word. Her movements were harsh and tense, not seeming to acknowledge the fact that you were injured. Machi’s demeanor right now felt very off, so you asked her what was wrong. 

- Well, she wasn’t hesitant to express her feelings with you. She did sound angry per se, but it sounded more like she was upset mixed with.. disappointment? It was hard to dissect how she was truly feeling at this moment. 

- Machi went on and on about how you should’ve approached this fight, how you could’ve evaded their attacks, and overall, how you should’ve planned this out more!!  

- Once she was done with her whole speech, Machi looked down at you once again to gaze at all of your injuries. At that moment, you then witnessed how her eyes softened while she was looking at you. Even though it might’ve seemed like she was mad, it came from a place of genuine worry about someone she deeply cared about.

- Machi loves you so much, and she couldn’t bare watching that whole fight with you getting beaten up like that. She then apologized for how she worded things if it made it seem like she was mad at you. That’s when Machi eased up on her tone, and expressed how she truly felt from the fight. Machi wouldn’t know how she’d handled yourself if something really bad happened to you.

- Seeing how that battle made your girlfriend worry so much, you assured her that next time you’ll try and plan things out better, and especially start training a little harder so something like this doesn’t happen again. Machi was pleased to hear that given by her small smile, then continued on with healing you. 

- Of course, it only took a short while for Machi to fully stitch you up, but the whole time you were mesmerized by her ability! It was always so amusing to see how fast she worked. After that, she proudly showed that her work was done. As you were admiring how fast she mended your injuries, Machi asked you for one small thing.

- “_____, promise me that something like this won’t happen again,” she asked. With that stern tone and the serious look in her eyes, you could tell that Machi expected you to say ‘yes’. 

- You gazed back into her eyes and said, “I promise,” as you reassured with a nod. Once she heard those words, a small smile fixed upon your girlfriend’s. 

- “I love you a lot, _____” was the last thing Machi said as she leaned down and planted a small kiss on your forehead, all while lying next to you on your bed to keep you company.

#yo you know whats a coincidence #I wrote a story like this on my Wattpad a few months ago #same idea and everything #but I never posted it cause it was rlly friggin bad #still have the draft tho #this was cute :)) #hxh #hunter x hunter #machi #machi komacine #machi komachine #machi komacine x reader #machi hxh #hxh machi #phantom troupe #aye she writes #hxh fluff

[one-boring-person]

You forced this upon yourself😂 you forced this rambo simp.(and i dont mind)

Okay this may not be as good! But! Im giving you the liberty to take it where you want!(because i love your little details and how you express the feeling in your writing i- AH! Its great. I cant say it enough, it’s great. I mean it.)

How about Rambo finally getting enough courage to show The rancher around the tunnels, in a date sort of way!(they don’t know thats actually where he lives. Aka that photo i showed you before.) i really saw how the rancher was so happy to have him at their house, I’d love to see rambos side of scheduling a house tour and date type deal!! Maybe him even sitting and showing the rancher through all his old photos, and them just in awe because wow. He’s so much cooler than they even thought! He just so nervous and surprised seeing them so interested in him after all this time alone, and them just- in awe of him.

( i also really think it would be funny seeing rambo go through his friends house and seeing-“why the hell you have so many plants???” And just. Adorable assassin living with a wholesome and loving hardworking s/o)

Ah! Im sorry if that’s not as good!! But hey, you feel free to describe their antics and relationship as you will!!

I think I may have run a bit with this, but I hope you like it regardless!😊💛

I've Got Your Back, You've Got Mine.

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x reader

Warnings: mention of death, mention of war, mention of injury, mention of PTSD, mention of violence, (possible flash warning for gif?)

Masterlist

The heavy knock on the door surprises me where I'm sitting, the sharp sound snapping me from my thoughts. Looking over at it from my position at the table, I frown and set down my spoon, standing to go answer, unsure of who it is: I'm not expecting anyone today. Colt looks up from his place on the floor, the dog just as curious as I am as to whom it may be, though he doesn't bark, so it must be someone we know. He watches me as I cross the room, going straight to the door.

Opening it, I'm somewhat surprised to see my neighbour, John, standing there, a tentative smile on his face as he looks me over appreciatively, his gaze drawing a blush to my face. 

"Mornin' (Y/n)." He greets, rough voice friendly as he waits for me to let him in.

"Morning John." I smile back, delighted to see him, "What can I do for you?"

I step back, waiting for him to enter, which he does so with a nod of thanks.

"Since when have I needed a reason to see you?" The veteran chuckles, the sound reverberating within me, my brain subconsciously storing the action away for later recall. Gently, John moves into my space, one hand coming to lightly rest on my hips as the other cups my face, drawing me in for a slow kiss. 

Kissing back, I feel a glow of happiness flare up in me at this contact: he's never really one to initiate touch like this, so it's a whole lot more intimate when he does. Relaxed, I loosely wrap my arms around his neck, languidly caressing his dark hair as our lips move together. 

Being the killjoy he often loves to be, Colt pushes in between us, nosing at John's leg, tail wagging enthusiastically as he recognises the familiar man, the dog as fond of his company as I am. Chuckling, John and I pull apart, looking down at the large canine between us, the dark eyes staring up at us imploring us to pay attention to him. Still smiling, John lowers a hand to scratch Colt's head, ruffling his floppy ears a little as the dog instantly allows his mouth to hang open, tongue lolling in content.

"Hey, Colt." The veteran greets, biting back a laugh as the dog pushes me out of the way, nudging at John's stomach.

"He never gets that excited to see me." I complain jokingly, standing back to watch the two interact, a smile playing at my lips.

"Sure he does." John replies, eyes fixing on mine with an expression of fondness, one that had me weak at the knees.

"He really doesn't, he just sits in the corner and whines at me until I feed him. Isn't that right?" I address the dog himself, giving him a light slap on the rear, his ridiculous height meaning I can quite easily reach it, "Anyhow, did you need something? Or did you just come here to kiss me? I can't say I'll complain if that's the case."

Cheekily, I wink at the veteran, leaning back against a nearby counter.

"As nice as that sounds, it's not the reason I came by." He chuckles, blushing lightly, "Though that does sound good."

Grinning, I nod my agreement, only now taking in his body language: he's nervous. His hands fidget, rubbing his fingers over scars and lines on his palms, and he shifts from foot to foot every now and then, small tells he's never quite managed to hide from me.

"Is something up?" I ask him, slightly more serious this time, unnerved by his discomfort.

"No, no, not at all. I, err, well, I just wanted to ask you something." He rubs the back of his neck, head tilted to the side as he regards me, dark eyes fixed on mine.

"Ok, go for it." I prompt him, curiosity sparking my interest.

"Well, do you wanna come to mine? I mean properly, like in the house." John cocks his head to the side, lowering his arm again.

Blinking, I feel shock flood my system, before it turns to unbelievable happiness that he's trusting me enough to come into his private space. Initially, I can't find the right words, somehow struggling to respond, until I find my tongue again.

"I would love to, John." I agree, features lighting up as my mood brightens, "There's nothing I've really got to do today except train up one of the younger horses, so I've got as long as you want after that."

"Great. Is four o'clock alright?" The veteran smiles broadly, though he still looks somewhat nervous.

"Yeah, should be. I'll be there." I promise him, taking up my Stetson from the table as I briefly turn away to put away the plate I was using, having lost my appetite in my sudden excitement.

"I'll get it tidy." He says, looking around the room again, "I'll never understand why you have so many plants in your house. It's like a damn jungle."

At his comment, I laugh loudly, glancing around at the variety of different houseplants I have placed on various shelves, the greenery practically covering every available surface. 

"Because it's way too dry to grow anything like this outside all the time. Anyway, they look nice." I shrug, calling Colt to my side as I follow John from the house, grabbing my jacket from the hook as I pass.

"But why so many?" 

Once again, I shrug, following him over to a nearby post, where he's hitched Bandit, the horse I gave him a few months ago. The buckskin stallion paws at the ground, his pale coat looking as clean as ever even as he noses at the dust, the dark colouring around his eyes (the reason for his name) and legs standing out much more in the bright sun. As we approach, he looks up, snorting in greeting.

"He's looking good." I acknowledge, admiring the strong stallion appreciatively - I had reared Bandit from a foal, before I had given him to the veteran as a gift four months ago, hoping it will help him to grow his own ranch. My plan had worked, and John now has four horses, including Bandit, as well as a couple of other animals, such as a cow, a pig and five chickens. I'd sold him a couple of goats as well, but we soon found out that John and goats just didn't get along. At all.

"Yeah, he's doing well, too. Takes the training very well, too." John runs a hand through the stallion's dark mane, untying the reins.

"That's good. Reckon he'll be ready for a competition soon?" 

"Should be." 

Snorting again, Bandit pulls at the reins, clearly eager to get going, especially as Colt moves up to sniff at the horse's back legs. I quickly whistle him over, knowing Bandit has always been shifty around the dog.

"I'll see you at four then." I finally say, unwilling to say goodbye, even if it is only for a few hours.

"Yeah, see you then." John smiles, leaning in to kiss me again, keeping it brief this time, leaving me wishing for more, as he always does.

"See ya." I grin, watching him climb into the saddle, still somehow fluid in doing so despite his age. 

Gathering the reins in hand, John adjusts himself in the saddle, before he smiles down at me again as he gently urges Bandit into motion. Obediently, the stallion moves into a swift trot, which turns into a faster canter as the two move off down the driveway, heading towards the split in the fence separating our land. I watch as they go, still finding myself enraptured by the sight of the muscular man sat astride the horse, Colt eventually snapping me from my mind as he barks at me. Shaking my head, I follow him towards the stable.

Hours later, having showered and cleaned up, I feel a sense of relief go through me as I hoist myself into the saddle secured into place on Leo's back. It's relaxing, the stallion beneath me more relaxed than the youngster I've been trying to train all day: she never gave me a break. Seemingly sensing this, as he always does, Leo flicks his ears back and nickers softly, very lightly pawing the ground as I give him a pat on the neck, glad to have a more reliable horse taking me where I need to be.

Tilting back my Stetson, I take the reins in hand and ease the stallion into a trot, intending to let him pick up his own pace, my trust in this horse far greater than in the mare from before. Obediently, Leo moves into the correct gait, the two of us moving as if as one, years of riding together having made it easy for us to become in tune with each other. Together, we start off down the road towards John's ranch, the new path we've created beaten and well-used, allowing for relatively easy riding. Leo's hooves pound the dry ground rhythmically, my hips moving in time with his every stride, the relaxing movement helping to calm the nerves that have sprung up inside me.

A part of me is still unconvinced about going into John's home. Yes, I had helped him rebuild it and had seen very little of the inside rooms, but it still feels as if I'm intruding upon the veteran's safe space, his reprieve from the cruelty of the world he lives in. Something about that doesn't sit right with me, but I tell myself it's John's decision to make, not mine, so I should trust him, which I do, wholeheartedly. 

I'm still torn by the time I reach the main house, where John is already sat waiting for me in his rocking chair, dark eyes fixed on me as I approach. Lifting a hand to him, I smile and slow Leo to a halt, praising the horse as I climb down, the gray stallion nosing affectionately at me. Swiftly, I tie him to a nearby post, only to stop when John calls out to me.

"Put him in the stable for the night." He instructs me, gesturing for me to follow him as I try to fight back the sudden onslaught of racing thoughts at his implications: he wants me to stay the night?

"Sure, thanks." I smile back at him, walking after him with Leo in tow.

"Don't worry about it. It's not fair on him if he has to stay out all night." John waves me off with a short grin, "How'd training go?"

I groan.

"Not great. That horse has it in for me, I swear." I complain, rubbing at my arm, remembering the moment I got the new bruise forming there.

"Oh yeah?" He muses, looking amused.

"Yeah. She threw me off eight times!"

"Eight times? Wow, must be a new record." The veteran jokes, something that stirs up the familiar fondness inside me at his more personable behaviour.

"I reckon so. Painful one to set, though, I'll tell you." I remark, smiling broadly as we enter the stable, where I quickly house Leo next to Bandit, removing his tack and other gear.

"Must be." John watches me work, leaning against the door to the large building, muscular arms crossed over an equally muscular chest. Turning back to him, I have to stop and admire the bulging of his biceps as his hands grip his forearms, the veins I've come to love laying out a pattern on the tanned limbs. Everytime I see them, I imagine his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me safe and secure against his solid body, wishing I could feel his hands splayed against me more often.

"Like what you see?" John interrupts my thoughts, voice teasing as he lifts an eyebrow at me, almost smirking at me.

Blushing furiously, I avert my gaze, lifting a hand to gently tap the brim of my Stetson out of my vision.

"You know I do." I laugh nervously, before I look back up at him, "Anyway, since when do you use pickup lines?"

"Since I figured out they get you all flustered." His playful tone is new to me, though it's gone almost as soon as I see it, his guarded expression falling back into place as he returns within himself, probably thinking he overstepped some invisible boundary.

I still can't help stammering for a response, his gruff tone awakening something within me.

"Heh, I guess you're right." I stutter, going over to him.

Nodding, he keeps his expression straight, leading me out back to the house, where he quickly welcomes me inside.

"I tried to tidy it as much as possible, but it's still a bit messy." The veteran apologises, observing the interior of his home critically, even as I do so in awe.

The rooms, from what I can see, are mostly filled with sparse furniture, a few chairs here and there, an old sofa, a couple of vanities and dressers, with a mantlepiece in most, if not all, of them. He hasn't used much colour, but what he has used is tasteful and works well with the overall appearance. The walls, however, are what really draw me into the place.

They are littered with photographs and memorabilia, frames and objects cleaned and polished so they shine brightly in the afternoon sun, many smiling faces visible in them. Curious, I go over to one wall, looking over the array of pictures, which I now recognise to be images of John and his friends from the years he spent here. Amongst them is a creased black and white photo of a young John sat astride a horse not unlike Bandit, a broad grin on the boy's face as he stares at the camera from under a mop of thick black hair. I can feel a small smile creep onto my face at the sight of the veteran looking so happy and carefree, something I've not seen very much of at all in my time around him.

"That was my first horse, Hector. I had him until I left for the army." John says from behind me, sounding somewhat quiet, eyes softened from nostalgia as he stares at the picture along with me, "I loved him a lot, but my father always said he wasn't good enough."

His words hang in the air as I stay speechless, listening intently to what he's saying to me: it's the first I'm hearing about his life before he came here again.

"What happened to him? Hector, I mean." I ask him quietly, tearing my eyes away to look up at John.

The veteran shrugs, appearing somewhat remorseful.

"I'll never know, but I reckon my father sold him as soon as I was gone."

"Oh." I frown, glancing back at the photograph.

"The horse was getting old by that time, though. He probably wasn't much use." John chuckles wryly, moving away towards the stairs nearby, "Do you want to see upstairs?"

"Yeah, sure." I nod, following him as he ascends to the second floor, which I now see consists of three different rooms.

He takes me to the farthest, opening the door to reveal an old study, which looks as if it hasn't been used in a good few years.

"This was my father's study, where he did all his business. I was never allowed in here as a kid." John sweeps his arm around the room, staying by the threshold, as if abiding by a rule that no longer exists, "Not that I go in here that much as an adult."

I look around, finding the neat area interesting: images of a young John hovering by the door, waiting for his father to finish business entering my head.

"It's nice, I like it." I remark, turning to find him smiling very slightly at me.

"It's the only room in the house that's exactly as it used to be. I haven't had time to do up the others properly." John says, leaving the study and going back down the hall, where he opens the other two doors to reveal a bathroom and an empty room.

A dull curiosity flares up within me as I realise one thing about the top floor, but I easily find a solution to it, following John back down the stairs. As we go, however, I realise that my assumption is wrong, as the only other rooms down here are missing the one thing I'd expect in any house.

"Where do you sleep? I haven't seen a bed or anything anywhere." I ask him, cocking my head to the side as he takes me to one final door.

"I'm gonna show you." He smiles at me, before he opens the door.

I blink as I see the dark steps descending into the ground, unease biting at my throat as I flash John a hesitant look. A cool draft wafts up from the black depth, but John only chuckles and moves down into the space below, gesturing for me to follow.

"It's perfectly safe, don't worry." He calls to me, a light flickering on as he reaches the bottom of the steps, illuminating the path to me.

Swallowing, I gingerly step down the stairs, emerging into a tunnel of sorts, my curiosity piqued as I take in the chiselled walls around me, the rock cast in an odd light from the naked bulbs positioned along the length of the cavern. Struts of wood hold the ceiling steady, wiring hanging off of them in places where he's had to hastily put it all together. John watches as I take in the passage, a thoughtful look in place on his face.

"What is this place?" I wonder aloud, still taken aback by the oddity of having a tunnel beneath the house that stretches off in both directions.

"This is my safe space." The veteran informs me, urging me along with him as we go further into the tunnel, walking together for a minute before we emerge out into a larger room of sorts, which is well lit. 

My eyes widen as I realise exactly what he means.

The room acts as his bedroom and bathroom, and also has space to sit and relax, the whole area having a homely feel to it. What was missing in the rooms in the house can be found down here, including more photographs, though these ones seem different to the others. They adorn the walls, all except one, which is decorated with a variety of weapons, both guns and knives. Going over to it, I look over the rifles and shotguns hooked onto the wall, struck speechless as I then turn my attention to a machete, the blade honed but chipped from use, seemingly out of place as it hangs beside another, smaller hunting knife. 

Moving on, I regard the photographs, only now realising that they're military pictures, many of them containing images of a youthful John in fatigues and uniform. A smile creeps back onto my lips as I feel my eyes land on a particular image of a group of men, where I can see John standing amongst them, a triumphant grin on his face, long locks of dark hair held back by a strip of fabric around his head. The others also smile, though there's something bittersweet about the inscription at the corner of the photo: Baker Team, Vietnam. As I look past the other pictures, I notice that the team slowly dwindles, beaming faces becoming drawn and solemn, eventually just leaving two people behind. Beneath this image is another inscription: Baker Team Survivors.

"That was my team in 'Nam." John says suddenly, voice husky as he remembers the friends he had, "None of them made it back. Not really."

Eyes wide, I look back at him, taking in the distant look in his own eyes, the barely concealed grief still raw in his expression as he stares at the photographs. Noticing my gaze, John gestures for me to come sit on the edge of his bed with him, the veteran pulling another photograph from it's place on his bedside table. Doing so, I make sure I'm not touching him, but am close enough to reassure him, waiting patiently for him to start talking of his own accord, knowing that this is a sensitive subject for him.

After a moment, he starts, his voice low as he pulls me into his stories, taking me through suffocating jungles and blistering heats, through recon and rescue missions, through bloody gunfights and hellfire,  through hours spent in torturous situations. He puts me in his shoes as he loses every single member of his team to the gruesome fight he should never have fought, the harrowing grief and pain of letting go of a comrade, someone who's supposed to be by your side for as long as the two of you can stay alive, laid bare for me to see and experience. And even as he moves on, back to familiar territory in the States, the fight never leaves him.

Facing harassment in what should be his safety and security, I can feel every bit of betrayal, of anger and grief that he felt as he is let down by his own country time after time, used again and again by the authorities to do their dirty work, only to be cast aside when it doesn't go their way, the old catchphrase he once lived by, "I've got your back, you've got mine" completely meaningless in this hollow life. His disgust in humanity is plain to me as he outlines his most recent forays into warfare, where the rage he felt is once again transferred to me, and I experience the violent need to take out the parasites in the world that destroy anything good that he did. It's as if I'm there with him, through everything, his description and memories so vivid they chill me to the core, keeping me hooked on his every word.

After a long while, he eventually trails off, and I realise there's a tear rolling down his cheek, his body shaking a little as he holds himself back. My heart breaking, I have to fight the urge to reach out and pull him into an embrace, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. I place my hand on his shoulder instead, rubbing the tight muscles soothingly until he looks up at me with the most heart-rending gaze I've ever seen in my life. At that point, my resolve breaks.

Carefully, I lean in and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling the veteran towards me. He goes willingly, sobs wracking his body as he wraps his own hands around me, burying his face into my neck, tears flowing freely now as he lets himself go, each pained sound agonising to hear. Tightening my grip, I lay back onto the bed, allowing him to press his body around me, holding me against his muscular form as I rub his back, whispering soothing things to him as his breathing starts to calm a little. It takes time, but eventually he starts to relax, body going limp as he lays in my arms, his larger form awkwardly wrapped around mine as he depresses his face into the crook of my neck.

I barely hear his broken voice as he whispers to me.

"Thank you." 

Breathing in his familiar scent, I just mould myself closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as he does the same to my neck.

"I'm here for you, John. I'm here, and I'll never leave. Not as long as I live, I promise."

#rambo x reader #rambo imagine #rambo #rambo 5 #rambo last blood #rambo 4 #sylvester Stallone #John Rambo x reader #John Rambo imagine #John Rambo

[morizoras-cave]

Pick Me Up (Request)

Tom Holland x gn!teen!co-star!reader, Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Request Description: tom holland! x teen!costar!reader and jake gyllenhaal x teen!costar!reader where the reader occasionally attends school irl. one day after school, the reader doesn't show up on set and everyone starts worrying. tom and jake try to call her and when she finally answers, she's crying and asking them to pick her up. they meet her and find out that she's been attacked by hater/bullies and they both get super mad and protective. thank you!

Warnings: bullying, insecurity, depression, violence, physical assault, language

(A/N): there will be an a/n tomorrow. i will probably be taking a break from writing for a little bit (like a week or two i estimate). im starting at a boarding school, and i really want to adjust and not force myself to write right at the start. anyway more details will be released tomorrow

You were always picked on. Ever since you were very small, kids had always loved pushing you around and teasing you. Nothing changed as you got older. You’d think that perhaps being casted in a movie would change something. It just didn’t.

It wasn’t a great feeling, that you were destined to be a loser. It just seemed that no one liked you. Or at least no one liked you enough to stand up to your bullies. 

When you were cast in a Marvel movie, you thought that you would get a vacation from that endless tormenting. Of course, you knew you’d be doing homework and assignments a your hotel still, but not physically being there was the dream for you.

Even that didn’t pan out. Your school was strict. Thankfully, the personnel at Marvel negotiated with them, and a schedule was made. You had three real-life school days each month. It was better but your bullies still seemed determined to stay on your mind. 

They never lay a finger on you. Nothing beyond pushing and tripping ever happened. That’s why it was so shocking, when one day in the break, someone slapped you right across the face.

Then you felt a push, a kick, and a punch, and after that it all muddled into a painful rain of blows to your body. You were crouched in the grass behind the school, and seven kids were kicking and hitting you, some of them spitting on you.

“You little bitch!”

“Do you think just ‘cause you’re in a movie, you’re suddenly worth something?”

“This bitch thinks they’re better than us now.”

“Let’s show them how fucking pathetic they really are!” 

You didn’t know when you started crying. Probably immediately. It was hard to keep track of yourself and everyone around you, when you were so overwhelmed. It was hard to process the situation, so you rather just tried to live through it. At some point they left, and you didn’t. You kept lying there, sobbing, clutching your stomach and aching body. It felt like you were on fire. 

Meanwhile, that particular day you actually had to come to set and film after school, something that thankfully didn’t happen often (as it was kind of stressful to do both in one day). You were running late.

“Is Y/n here yet?” someone yelled throughout the set. The director was sitting in his chair, rubbing his head and tapping his foot impatiently. “No!” it came from the other side of set. 

While most of the set workers were pretty pissed that you weren’t there, your costars, the people who’d gotten to know you the best, were worried. You were punctual. One time, when you lost track of time doing homework, you ran to set, to get there on time. In other words, something was definitely wrong. 

“I’ve sent them, like, 70 messages,” Tom mumbled, scrolling through your conversation on messenger. Your costars were gathered together on set, sitting or standing in a circle and waiting. 

“This isn’t like them,” Zendaya shook her head worryingly. The other people in the circle mumbled in agreement. The set was unorganized, chaotic, people were dashing back and forth everywhere. Things could not go forward without you present. 

“I’m gonna call them,” Jake said finally, convinced after watching a set worker look at a clipboard, widen their eyes, and then massage their temples cartoonishly. 

He whipped out his phone and clicked on your number. Ringing ensued. The others actors watched him, aching to know what was wrong. 

“Hello?” 

Jake knew immediately that something was very wrong. His mind was already racing, wondering what could’ve gotten you so upset. Your voice was snotty and shaking. You sounded like you’d been crying. 

“Hi, N/n. How are you doing? You okay?” Jake’s voice was gentle, but he couldn’t stop the overflow of questions coming form his mouth. His chest rumbled with worry. 

“I’m- I- I’m not alright. Can you.. Can you pick me up?” your voice, thought gravelly and low, was somehow still the softest thing he’d ever heard. You sounded so vulnerable. 

“Of course. Of course I’ll come. Where are you?” Jake made eye contact with a couple of the actors, whose faces were now twisted into concerned frowns and furrowed brows.

“At school.” 

“Alright, I’ll come get you now, can you wait outside?” 

Jake ran to his car, Tom trailing right behind him. 

“What happened to her? Jake, wait up!” 

When they got to you, you looked so small, crying and shaking on the sidewalk. Your arms and legs and your face were red. 

“What happened to you?” Jake exclaimed, practically jumping out of the car, and crouching down beside you. You looked up at him, clenching your jaw. Your eyelashes were dripping. 

“These kids.. They.. They beat me up,” you sobbed, hiding your face in your arms again. Jake frowned, heart clenching. He gently placed a hand on your back, and then pulled you into a careful hug. 

Tom was shaking, watching you. His heart physically hurt seeing you like that, but mostly he just wanted to beat up those kids. He wanted to make them pay. 

“Tom, calm down,” Jake whispered to him, gesturing to you in his arms. Tom softened. He knew that beating them up would do nothing. They had to focus on you. For now.

Tom crouched down as well, so they were both hugging you and rubbing your back. You, aching and feeling worthless, unable to handle it by yourself, felt yourself eased at their presence. It felt almost like everything would be fixed with them there.

You pulled away, no longer crying. Now everything just hurt. 

“What are the names of the kids?” Tom’s voice was gravelly, as soon as you pulled back. It seemed like he had maintained some of the initial anger. 

“Tom, I-”

“I don’t want to fight about this, Y/n. Give me their names. I’m fucking serious,” Tom, although angry, was still holding onto your hand for dear life. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand invitingly. You looked to Jake, but he wasn’t going to help you protect those kids. 

You told them their names. At least the ones who usually bullied you and the ones whose voices you recognized. You could tell that ‘usually bullied’ angered Tom and Jake. 

“How long has this been going on?” Jake asked and his voice was much softer than Tom. You scoffed. 

“Way longer than I’ve known you guys!” you were actually getting annoyed at this point. What did they think you were going to beg them for help, so they could magically fix your life? 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tom blurted out. His feelings were stronger than his head. He clenched your hand.

“I didn’t want to be unprofessional! I didn’t- I didn’t want to be a bother!” 

“Well, I think the friendship we all share is more than professional. We’re friends, Y/n. You should tell friends when you’re bothered by something! Because look at you now-” his voice broke. Tom choked up, eyes red as a single tear slid down his face. He wiped it away. Guilt coated your insides, bile rising in your throat. 

Every inch they could see was bruised. Your eyes were puffy, and you were sitting on the sidewalk helplessly. You were beaten down. No one wants to see their friend like that. 

“Alright,” Jake cleared his throat, “how about we go back to the hotel now? I’ll make a few calls with the set and your parents, and we’ll make sure those kids aren’t there the next time you go to school. And we’ll get some ice for those bruises.”

You didn’t answer for a moment. Then you nodded. 

Jake did exactly that, whilst you lay on your bed, holding ice to your arms, and wrapped in your duvet. Tom hugged you there silently, Jake talking in the other room. 

“Don’t hide that stuff,” Tom mumbled tiredly. You nodded, “Let’s go to sleep.”

“I agree,” and then you both fell asleep like it was nothing. When Jake had finished the dozens of phone calls, he came back into your room, only to see you and Tom asleep in an adorable hug. He smiled, because despite your awful experience that day, you looked so happy with your friend. Jake knew you would be okay before you even knew it yourself, but he was right. You would be okay. :)

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch @alicedanganh @eviemarvel @idk123906

#tom holland x reader #jake gyllenhaal x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman cast x reader #marvel cast x reader #mcu cast x reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers cast x teen!reader #marvel cast x teen!reader #mcu cast x teen!reader #spiderman cast x teen!reader

[free-pool-trash]

folklore - isaac lahey {9/?}

Hey lovlies ✌🏻💕 sorry this part took so long something wasn’t sitting right with me so I rewrote it like 3 time 😫 but don’t worry I figured it out.

It’s all angst from here I’m afraid crew

👁💧👄💧👁

Pleasssssse let me know what you think, im hanging by a thread here 😭💕

Word count: 5.1K

Warning(s): fluff at the start :), a whole bunch of swearing, blood, mentions of death, let me know if I missed any! <3

Masterlist

taglist (open): @makeusfreefromthisfandom​, @cece-lives-here ​, @chocolate-raspberries​, @belsandthings​, @dancing-tacos-23 , @truly-dionysus​, @britty443​, @tanyaherondale​, @furiouspockettoad​, @yunsh-17 , @random-thoughts-003​, @gloomybrieyxb​​, @linkpk88 ​, @big-galaxy-chaos​ , @im-a-stranger-thing ​​, @its-evita-here , @pad-foots , @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy , @bookswillfindyouaway ,  @what-the-hap-is-fuckening​, @awkwardnesshabitat​, @pieces-by-me , @wreny24​, @marveloucnco , @babypink224221 , @bookish-bucky @alexa-rae-dreamz , @thebookisbtr , @nxstalgicnxbxdy , @cloudy-zoey , @booknymph02 , @tairisceana let me know if you’d like to be added <3  (i had to remove some because tumblr wont let me tag them 💔)

The next morning came by all too quickly, you’d barely gotten any sleep. Yourself and Isaac spent the whole night talking, just like you used to before the tone of your lives had changed drastically.

There was so much you needed to get off your chest, and of course Isaac had a lot to say too so that’s what the pair of you did- put everything out on the table.

You did a whole lot of talking, laughed a lot, cried a little and for the first time ever during one of your and Isaac’s late night chats there was an incredible amount of shared kisses. Those little perks of being a couple were something you could definitely get used to.

Your fingers drew circles on Isaac’s chest, the boy laid there, contently looking down at you. Your head was comfortably tucked against his shoulder, turned up at an angle so that you were still face to face.

He noted how your eyes glinted in the morning sun, watery due to lack of sleep. It was crazy to him; the effect that you had. He swore he could be on fire and all it would take to put him out was one of your reassuring smiles pointed even vaguely in his direction.

Realistically, Isaac knew he should’ve been sad- heartbroken, even. His father had just been quite brutally murdered, he should be a mess, but he wasn’t.

Maybe it had something to do with the years of trauma the man had inflicted on him or maybe it was Isaac’s new supernatural status, whatever the reason for it, Isaac wasn’t mourning the death of his father.

Instead, all he could think about was how warm your body felt against his.

“It’s morning time.” He smiled at your murmur, the smile widened when you pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Isaac hummed in acknowledgment and squeezed your leg that you had thrown across his stomach. “Yeah.”

You moved your chin to rest against his chest, eyes looking into his, “We can stay here if you want. We don’t have to go to school.” You suggested but Isaac knew it was more of a plea when he saw the hopeful grin growing on your lips.

“Nah I gotta go in. I have lacrosse practice.” He spoke out, his voice low and grumbly from how tired he was.

You scoffed jokingly, pushing yourself up so your lips were hovering over his, “Lacrosse huh?”

His eyes were hooded now as he glanced down at your lips, his hands moving to grasp your waist, “Mhm.”

With a smirk you ghosted his lips with your own, you could hear his heart beating through his chest and you could feel how badly he wanted to connect his lips to yours.

“Well then I guess we better get a move on.” You whispered against his lips, pulling away abruptly and hoping out of the bed, strutting to the bathroom with a sway in your hips as you knew he was watching.

A look of disbelief was painted across his face as he shouted through the walls, “Out of all the things that have happened this week that was the most fucked up!”

*

You were going to kill Scott when you got your hands on him. Seriously could he have been anymore obvious?

“Scott! What the hell are you doing.” You whispered from the bleachers, knowing he could hear you.

The boy whispered back, determination clear in his voice, “There’s another werewolf. I need to find out who it is.”

He must’ve smelled it off him. So much for keeping it a secret.

“Scott stop, I know who it is.” You panicked, by the time the words left your mouth both Isaac and Scott had sent each other flying through the air.

As you made your way down from your spot on the bleachers to separate the commotion happening between your two baby werewolves, you noticed sheriff Stilinski and a few deputies making their way across the field.

The sheriff’s gaze was set on Isaac and you found your feet matching the older man’s pace in a silent race to get to the boy in question.

Unfortunately, since you were unable to use vamp speed, the sheriff had beaten you in the unspoken race. His hand had wrapped around Isaac’s bicep as he attempted to lead him away.

When you realised what was happening, you threw caution to the wind and began jogging, not even sparing Scott or Stiles a glance when they called out for you to stop.

Once you were close enough you reached out, successfully grabbing Isaac’s wrist and stopping him and the sheriff in their tracks. “What’s going on?” You demanded, looking between Isaac and the sheriff.

“They think I killed my dad.” Isaac told you quietly and you couldn’t stop the look of utter disbelief that appeared on your face as you moved to stand between Isaac and the sheriff.

“Are you kidding me?” The sheriff sighed with exhaustion at your shout. He knew it was going to be a long day when he saw his son and Scott marching toward the already escalating scene.

“Look, kid. He’s a suspect we have to hold him.” Sheriff Stilinski had been making arrests for a long time but he was sure the look you were giving him was the most venomous he’d ever seen.

“A suspect? Why? What’s your proof?” You shot out, eyebrows furrowed and fangs ready to spring from your gums.

Maybe it had something to do with the night of the full moon looming but you were finding it extremely difficult to keep your anger in check. After yesterday, you were almost certain if your rage got out out of hand there’d be no stopping you.

“We, uh, have reason to believe that Isaac had motive to kill his father. That’s all I can tell you.”

You scowled at him, easing up only slightly as you felt Isaac interlocking his fingers with yours from behind you. “That’s bullshit! He couldn’t have killed his dad because he was with me.” You lied smoothly.

The sheriff raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “With you?”

“Mhm. At my place.” You continued, ignoring the squeeze of warning you were getting from Isaac.

“Look, we have an eye witness account saying that Isaac fled his home, followed by his father and your name never came up.”

Letting out a cynical laugh you all but squared up to the man, “Yeah? And where do you think he fled to?” You asked challengingly.

You would’ve said more if Stiles hadn’t shoved himself in between yourself and his father, sporting a fake smile on his face as he started to ramble, “Hey guys! How we all doing? Good? Good. That’s really great to hear. (Y/n) can I borrow you for a second?” Stiles prompted you, nodding his head rather aggressively in an attempt to get you to stand down.

“No.” You and the sheriff spoke simultaneously, shocking Stiles.

“Young lady, I don’t think you understand the seriousness of what you’re saying. Being an accomplice to murder is a serious offence.” He told you sternly, clearly wanting to give you an opportunity to back down and walk away.

“(Y/n) come on.” Scott pleaded from behind you and you could feel the anxiety seeping off of both Stiles and Isaac.

Stiles laughed nervously, also trying to give you a fighting chance of walking away, “She’s not an accomplice! You’re not an accomplice, right?”

He fixed you with a confused look and repeated, “Right?”

“No I’m not an accomplice because Isaac didn’t kill his father!” You rebutted angrily through gritted teeth, the boys surrounding you terrified of the look on your face in that moment.

With a hard look, sheriff Stilinski took your arm in one hand and Isaac’s in the other and pulled the pair of you towards the police car, “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take you both into holding.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” You heard Scott exclaim desperately from behind you, his voice two octaves higher than usual.

Carefully, you began to whisper quietly under your breath so that only Scott and Isaac would hear you, “Tonight’s the full moon. I’m not letting them put him in a holding cell alone. Call Derek. Come get us out.”

You didn’t glance back at Scott to check if he heard you, you simply kept walking ahead and complied with the sheriff as he placed you into the car, beside Isaac.

*

“Since we’re technically in prison and you’re technically part k9, does that mean you’re my bitch?” You wondered out loud, looking across the holding cell at Isaac who sat (moping) on the bench.

“Don’t make me laugh. I’m mad at you.” He grumbled and you pouted from your spot on the floor.

“It was a serious question.” You whined.

Isaac groaned, completely disregarding your question, “You’re insane? You know that don’t you?”

“Rude.” You complained, leaning your head back against the cold bars of the cell.

“No seriously. You shouldn’t be in here with me.” Isaac grumbled yet again.

“Ok, first of all, you shouldn’t even be in here in the first place because-“ you paused, took a deep breath and looked at the camera adjacent to yourself and Isaac on the wall outside the cell before shouting, “He didn’t fucking do anything!”

You had to force yourself into calming down as you felt your anger causing your heart rate to rise rapidly, you took one more deep breath and then continued what you had been saying.

“Secondly, and in all seriousness, the idea of you being in here on your own makes me feel physically sick, especially since it’s your first full moon and all this crap with the Argents going on… I just wanted to be with you.” You admitted sheepishly, picking at the sleeves of your jumper to avoid his gaze.

Isaac’s heart beat picked up at your words but you couldn’t say anything as yours had too, with a soft sigh he muttered, “You don’t have to protect me.”

“I know. I know you don’t need protection, you never have. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t strength in numbers right now.” Isaac was quiet for a second before speaking up again.

“Hey, babe?” You looked up at the sound of his voice, he was giving you a soft smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah?” Isaac was shaking his head in disbelief, he let out a short chuckle and made his way across the cement floor and slid down beside you.

You watched him fondly and couldn’t help the roaring laugh that left your mouth when he leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “I’m definitely your bitch.”

*

Before either of you knew it, night had fallen and you’d begun to feel antsy. Your chest grew heavy with each noise or set of passing footsteps. You paced the cell restlessly, wringing your hands together and doing your best to disregard the feeling of dread swelling up inside of you.

It wasn’t long before Isaac was holding his head in his hands, his knee jutting in the same restless manner that you were pacing.

Growls were rising from the back of his throat and you wouldn’t lie, it was making you more than a little nervous.

You slowly approached him, proceeding with extra caution you reached out and tugged on his sleeve, hoping the action would bring him a sense of familiarity and not startle him.

Isaac’s head whipped around, his eyes glowing amber when they landed on you. “What’s happening?” He asked in a growl.

As gently as you possibly could, you moved your hands to Isaac’s cheeks and did your best to ignore his changed features.

“It’s the full moon. How are you feeling?” You kept your voice quiet, again trying to accommodate his heightened senses.

Isaac only screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw tightly, “Like I want to rip apart everything I see within a fifty mile radius.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at the holding area door, helplessly wishing Scott would come rushing through the door.

Isaac’s face seemed, for once, not to be comfortable in your hold as he began to growl and attempt to break out of your grip.

“No, no, no. Isaac, hey. Look at me.” The wolf reluctantly stopped wiggling and fixed his gaze on yours. Your eyes were now blazing purple and you felt your own composure slipping from your grasp.

Another gutteral sound left Isaac’s throat, his clawed hands digging into your hips for some kind of leverage. “Just keep looking at me alright… God, I don’t actually know how to do this but, uhm, just think about something that’ll keep you grounded, ok?” You told him frantically, speeding through your words as you heard the approaching footsteps of someone who was definitely not Scott or Derek.

The boy in front of you nodded his head just as the door opened. No, it didn’t open, it was practically pulled off its hinges. Effectively ruining the progress you’d made with your moon crazy boyfriend.

The man who walked in was dressed like a deputy but the gushing wound and arrow sticking out of his leg gave him away as a fake. As well as that, the gun he was pointing at Isaac gave him away as a hunter.

“Oh shit.” It was your turn to growl when Isaac broke out of your grasp. He pulled the cell door clean off, and set off towards the hunter.

Immediately, you ran behind him but before you could stop the two from killing each other, something else caught your eye. And your nose. It had taken over all of your senses, actually…

The blood leaking from his leg had you frozen on the spot, your mouth watering and mind unable to focus.

By now, Isaac had tossed the hunter aside and you weren’t sure when, but at some point Stiles had entered the room and your boyfriend was now attempting to attack your main food source.

“(Y/n)! Little help here?” Stiles cried from the floor and you tried your best to pull yourself together.

It didn’t take too much strength for you to restrain Isaac, you had one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other around his torso, successfully holding him against your chest.

You hadn’t noticed how hungry you were in the moment, you needed to eat before someone would need to restrain you.

Pushing the hunger away you tried your best to get through to the new wolf struggling against your grip.

“Remember the thing that keeps you grounded! What was it? Tell me about it.” You tried to prompt, however as soon as Isaac attempted to respond a resounding howl filled the room.

The sudden noise had caused Isaac to cower against you. His body shook against yours, reluctantly you released him from your hold, allowing him to curl up in fear against the nearest wall.

Derek stood at the head of the room, his aura screaming for command as he glowered down at Isaac before turning his gaze to you and Stiles.

“I’m the alpha.” The Hale stated pompously.

With a questioning laugh you motioned towards the mess of the room, Isaac in wolf form shaking and whining like a kicked puppy, a mercenary bleeding and unconscious on the tiles and a very rumpled up Stiles.

“What you are is a grade A ass. Where the hell were you?” Derek stiffened at your agitated tone.

The man in question cleared his throat, his authority slipping away in the presence of your glare, “Scott & I went to scope Isaac’s house.”

“And that took you six hours?” You scoffed, kneeling down next to Isaac and running a gentle hand through the scared boy’s hair.

He whimpered at your touch, only quieting down when you transferred as much calming energy as you could manage to conjure up onto him.

It was getting harder to ignore the blood lust you were feeling, the smell of blood and Stiles’ racing pulse were beginning to cloud your mind. It wasn’t the usual hunger, though. It felt far more violent. Almost as if you’d never be able to get enough no matter how much you consumed.

“I need to leave.” You stated, standing from your spot beside Isaac and fixing Derek with a hard look, “Take Isaac somewhere safe.”

“Wait hold on, where are you going?” Derek asked sternly.

“To find some blood before I start ripping people’s throats out.” You responded bluntly, not waiting for his reply, you used your speed to leave the sheriff's station.

You found yourself in the woods. Close to the old Hale house.

There was a certain scent, you couldn’t quite place it though. It was metallic, but unlike the blood you were used to, it smelled stale.

But still, it was captivating your senses and you needed to get to the bottom of it. You couldn’t decide what was more overpowering, your hunger or your curiosity.

Impatiently, you made your way through the darkened tree line, following the scent until it led you to the building you were oh so familiar with.

The Hale house stood before you, menacing as ever and reeking of old blood.

As you walked up the porch steps, the rotten stairs creaked with every shift of weight. When you finally placed your hand on the door you realised your mistake.

What felt like a billion bolts of electricity shot through your body the second your palm met the door knob.

All of your breath left your lungs as your body hit the floor. As your legs and arms seized and convulsed on the forest floor, having rolled down the porch steps with the force of the shock, a voice sounded from out of the shadows.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here…” The voice was old and scratchy, something like a worn out vinyl, a record that had been played so often that some of the tunes now came out as a painful drawl. “Come on, let’s get her rigged up.” The man demanded and you writhed against the many pairs of hands that began dragging you to what you assumed was some kind of van.

Your vision was blurry as you attempted to get your bearings, sitting up in the van after the doors had been forcefully slammed and you were left alone.

“Le-“ You attempted to heave out words, your attempts were fruitless though as your lungs were still devoid of any oxygen.

Frustration seemed to give you the strength you needed as you finally regained enough control over your body to yell out, a very enraged, “Let me out you bastards!”

A cynical laugh came from the head of the van, “She has a lot of spunk. You’d know she was a L/n.”

“I’m going-“ You rasped yet again, fighting against the shackles that had been placed on your wrists at some point, “To fucking rip your stupid throat out! With my teeth!”

As threatening as your words were, your wheezy, out of breath voice let you down.

“Now, now. No need for that.” He spoke, only for a voice you recognised to cut him off.

“I’m starting to think this wasn’t the best idea.” It was Chris Argent. You forced yourself to move as close to the front of the van as your shackles would allow.

“What exactly do you plan on doing with an innocent seventeen year old, Mr.Argent?” You drawled, the electricity almost completely out of your system, your lungs finally working at their usual capacity again.

When the hunter didn’t grace you with a response, and you figured you couldn’t do much else right in the moment, you decided you’d poke the proverbial bear.

“You tried to kill my boyfriend tonight… it’d be a real shame if I had to retaliate.”

“Shut it.” Chris said, his voice unamused, bordering on nervous.

Bored, you clicked your tongue, “No, I don’t think I will. Anyway, unless you want me to go into graphic detail about how I’m going to disembowel both of you when I get out, tell me why you’re kidnapping me.”

The old man chimed in then, “Because you, little girl, are an abomination.”

“And you, old decrepit asshole, are getting on my last nerve. Give me a straight answer before I make you give me a straight answer.” You tugged violently at the chains, loosening them from the metal wall, to convey your point.

“Brute force will get you nowhere, little wolf.” Wolf? There was your opening. They didn’t have a clue about you.

Deciding you couldn’t give away your only edge, you played into their delusions, “Where was that a few hours ago when you sent a hitman to put down a seventeen year old boy who's never done anything worse than miss an assignment?”

He scoffed then, “No matter how sweet you think you are. You wolves are all the same. You’re all killers.”

A laugh left the back of your throat, “Are you senile or something? Last time I checked you hunter dickheads were the ones killing people.”

“That’s enough, we’re done talking.” Chris asserted, you couldn’t see either of the men you’d been speaking to but you could imagine their clenched jaws at your statement.

With a smirk you kept talking, “You killed, what was it? Oh yes. All of the Hale’s. Cora was only a little older than me at the time, Kate torched the house five years ago so that would have made Cora twelve years old when she was burned alive.”

You paused for a second, allowing your anger to seep off of you and onto them. “Tell me… what monstrosities could a twelve year old girl have committed?”

“This is your last warning.” Chris grumbled and you ignored him yet again.

“All of these broken morals lead me to wonder; what would precious Alison think of all of this? Maybe I’ll ask her at school on Monday.” You tormented the men, readying yourself to make a break for it as you felt the van slow down.

Quietly, or as quietly as you possibly could, you freed your wrists from their shackles. Shakily you stood up and then you waited.

When the door opened you fixed the two men who were looking at you in mild shock with a smirk, “Hi.”

“How did you… those shackles were doused in mistletoe.” At the old man's shock your smirk broadened. It was something you had found out from both Damon Salvatore and Deaton. Mistletoe only weakened wolves, not vampires.

With a coy shrug you shot them a wink, “I’d really love to stay and chat but, I have homework.” With that you began to run, but the older man caught your forearm before you got a clean break.

And normally, his amount of strength wouldn’t have been able to stop you, what was really hindering your movement was the dagger he had logged in your abdomen.

Your eyes were wide and you let out a pathetic squeal of pain when he twisted the knife in your stomach, his voice was menacing as he spoke, “You’re not going anywhere.” He spat out in your face, hand firm on the dagger.

“Yes. I. Am.” You seethed through gritted teeth, containing the blood that was filling your mouth.

Using whatever strength you could muster, you threw the man away from you and took off running, the dagger still lodged in your abdomen.

When you were sure you were far enough away, you fell to your knees.

Taking a shaky breath you looked around the street you’d landed on. You weren’t sure where you were and your phone was lying abandoned on the floor of the woods. It was times like this you wish you had a howl.

Then as if it was some incredible mirage, driving down the street was a light blue jeep. “Stiles!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, dragging yourself to the edge of the road.

“Stiles! Stiles please!” You cried out, letting out a breath of relief when the jeep stopped only a few meters from you.

Within seconds Stiles was sprinting over to you, sliding the rest of the way on his knees and cupping your face with a terrified expression, “Y/n!? What hap- hu- oh dear god!” He tried his best not to gag when he noticed that you were literally impaled.

“Ok. Ok. No what happened? Wait no. Right not important.” The boy rambled and you let him lead you as he picked you up from the dirt and placed you laying down across the back seat of his jeep.

Stiles drove like a madman to the hospital, wincing when you’d whimper and muttering apologies when you’d let out a cry.

“I think you would’ve been really proud of how I handled that situation.” You jested weakly from your spot, Stiles looked at you briefly in disbelief.

“What? By getting stabbed?” He shot back.

You offered him a faint giggle, “Nah, you shoulda heard me, Sty. I was such a snarky bitch.”

“So that’s how the stabbing thing happened. Got it.”

Only a few more minutes passed before you’d arrived at the hospital. Stiles had practically dragged you in and you couldn’t help the mewls of agony you were letting out as he passed you off to Melissa.

“What the hell happened?” She screeched and all you could offer in response was a blood filled cough, causing Melissa to nod her head in understanding, “Right. Questions later.”

*

Aimlessly you looked around for something, anything.

You were in complete darkness, but your body stood tall and seemingly healthy, no sign of any kind of wound.

A dull, yellow light shone in the distance. Cautiously, you took a step forward and it was only then that you knew where you were.

Under your feet, which were devoid of any shoes or socks, wet leaves crunched under your weight and you found yourself, yet again, standing in front of the Hale house.

It looked how it usually did, sad and decolate. However, what was unusual was that dull light shining through one of the partially melted windows.

Humming sounded from the home, hitting your ears in perfect pitch. It brought a wave of calmness over you, tranquilizing your fears as you twisted the knob that had once sent you into a horrific shock.

The rotten hardwood cooled your feet as you shuffled thoughtlessly through the house which you used to view as a home away from home.

“You put up a great fight.” A deep voice spoke from inside the lit room.

The voice was unmistakable, but you knew that there was only one explanation for why you were hearing it. For as long as you could, you wanted to hold onto your naivety.

“Who's there?” You called in response while small steps carried you closer and closer to the room.

The voice let out a chuckle, “I think you already know.”

Finally, you arrived in the room. Confronting the voice you knew all too well.

“Good to see you again, sweetheart.” You saw his face then, standing charred and battered like a fallen angel was Peter Hale.

The sob that fell from you was impossible to stop, you didn’t waste another second, you threw yourself at the man in front of you. A teary smile found your face when he welcomed you with open arms, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you cried into his shoulder.

“Quiet now, no more tears.” He said, pulling away from you, his thumb brushing under your eye gently, sweeping the falling teardrops away.

With a sniffle you looked at your surroundings before returning your gaze to Peter, “Am I dead?” You asked meekly.

Oddly enough, you felt accepting of it. Liked it, almost. It was quiet here- wherever here was.

“Temporarily.” He answered, guiding you further into the room. It had a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and two wooden chairs sat vacant underneath it. “Have a seat.”

Doing as told, you sat down on the chair opposite Peter. “Where are we?” You questioned, the silence, although peaceful, was overwhelming.

Peter gave you a small grin, gesturing to the room around you, “Purgatory.” He answered simply.

He stared at you then, a look in his eyes you recognised but, for the first time since you’d turned, you couldn’t feel it. It was something akin to sadness. It held love too, though.

“The next part is the hardest. When you wake up you won’t have a clue how you got there. You’ll be starving and all you’ll want to do is start tearing people apart.” He explained and your stomach dropped.

You were going to wake up and complete the transition, you’d be a fully fledged vampire and all because of some stupid knife wound.

“I won’t remember being dead?”

Peter shook his head, “You’ll remember this part, not the actual passing over part though.”

A tear slipped from your eye and you forced yourself to take in a shaky breath, “Passing over to where?”

Peter shrugged, “Don’t know. I’ve never gotten that far; too much unfinished business.” He tried to lighten the mood, but he realised there was no use as he noticed your breathing pick up and your eyes fill with tears yet again.

“You’re strong, you’ll be perfectly fine. You are my beta, after all.” He soothed, moving his chair so it would be next to yours.

You let out a croaky laugh at that, “I haven’t been strong. I’ve been drowning ever since you bit me, I haven’t done much other than fight with myself.”

“Not true. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Keeping Derek under control is a job not everyone is up for, but you’re doing it like it’s nothing. Although, you’d be doing a lot better if I had gotten to you before Derek ripped by throat out.” He muttered the last part, obviously not happy with your trip to Mystic Falls.

“Damon told me you used to drink together.” You recalled with a smile, distracting yourself from the future of impending darkness.

Peter laughed at the memory but didn’t speak.

The dense silence returned, not for long though, distantly you heard shouts. They were more like pleads really. Or were they screams?

“Y/n! Can you hear me? Y/n! Y/n!”

Softly, you turned your head towards the doorway, the hallway light was turned on now too, “Someone’s calling me.”

Peter stood up, a heavy grief filled sigh falling from him as he offered you his hand and pulled you to your feet when you took it. “It’s almost time. But not just yet, there's one last thing you need to do.”

“What is it?” You asked, not sure if you wanted to know the answer.

Peter pulled you close, placed a kiss to the top of your head then began guiding you, arm tightly wrapped around your shoulder.

He answered you solemnly, blue eyes sparkling with unwanted wisdom, “You have to say goodbye.”

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #teen wolf x reader #derek hale x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #scott mccall x reader #peter hale x reader #derek hale #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #peter hale #folklore i.l