#I need to write more guilty!John

[the-phony-king-of-england]

As much as I love Prince John, I don’t think I can understate just how badly he needs to apologise to Sir Hiss.

Like, a PROPER apology. For what could have been YEARS of mistreatment.

We only see a little snippet of it in the film, and even then, almost every scene the two share includes some sort of abuse towards Hiss by John’s hand. All the rude nicknames, the hitting, the throttling, the near constant calling him an idiot. The only remotely nice thing he ever says to Hiss is that he’d make a good court jester, and even then, it‘s so backhanded and Hiss seems to take offence to it.

He still stays, and still apparently cares for the prince, probably out of the goodness of his heart, but he deserves to be repaid for what he’s been through. I like to imagine John showering him with little trinkets and gifts and materials for his practice in a feeble attempt to make it up to him after he’s been released from prison.

After all, what would he be without Sir Hiss?? Hiss is his brains, his eyes. If Hiss up and left, he’d have nothing.

[woantohae]

In my arms || (Bob Reynolds x reader)

Summary: The Thunderbolts are constantly on missions, busy trying to do good and save whoever they can. One of them was Bob Reynolds, the defenseless yet powerful man who is part of this team and family. However, he doesn't participate in these missions so he can continue practicing controlling his powers.

Despite telling them he's capable, the team prefers to give him more time to get used to them, until one mission, when a member of the team is injured. And all Bob can think about is the fury he feels when he hears Y/N being hurt. And how much he wants revenge on whoever did it.

content warnings: angst, he fell first and he fell harder, "avengers" tower, fluff, thunderbolts being a family, violence, curse words, SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS*, Yelena and Bob being like brother and sister, "touch her and you die" trope.

Author's note: I WATCHED THUNDERBOLTS*!!!! And let me tell you, it was better than i imagined. Honestly, it became one of my favorites and it can easily be in my top 3 of Marvel movies. I just can't describe the experience with enough words, but the waiting was totally worth it ✨️ AND THE POST CREDIT SCENE 👀 MARVEL ATE WITH THAT ONE.

With that being said, i'm excited to tell you that i'm gonna write more of Bob Reynolds 👉🏻👈🏻 So here you go, a one shot with him, wich contains a few spoilers of the movie. At this point our reader will be polaris lol.

Hope you like it and comment what do you think of this one 💌

Bob was getting used to the place.

What had once been Avengers Tower had now become his new "home." He had an incredible view of New York City, several rooms to hang out in, thousands of dishes and meals he'd never been able to prepare in his life, and the pleasant company he shared every day.

The team had made him feel comfortable and part of something worthwhile, despite what they'd gone through to get to this moment.

Bob still felt guilty about what happened when Void took control of him and darkened everything in its path, even when Yelena reminded him it wasn't his fault and that he wasn't alone. The blonde had become a trusted person for him and was always there when he needed her. He told her his secrets and how he felt, and the Russian always gave him advice or a word of encouragement. Even with the trust he had in her, he confided in her something he never thought would happen to him. Or rather, something he thought was impossible to happen in such a short time.

He was attracted to Y/N.

The girl whom his other self had caused to see horrible things from her past, the one who could move metal objects with a simple flick of her fingers, and the one who made his heart race and his cheeks blush. It was a feeling that consumed him every time he was near her or even thought about her.

And Yelena, being the good spy she was and good at reading people, knew how Bob felt about Y/N. She always encouraged him to get closer and talk to her more, but Bob simply couldn't do it. It was not that easy.

"It sounds easy," John says, after hearing the plan for carrying out the mission.

Bob shakes his head to return to reality and ignore such thoughts.

"Wait until we get there and they welcome us with open arms," ​​Bucky says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"We still made it last time, and look at us here," Y/N replies, shrugging her shoulders.

Ava laughs and shakes her head.

"We'd better get moving," she says.

Bob looks at the group with hope in his eyes, but feels unsure about what he's gonna say.

"Can I come with you, guys?" he asks.

All heads turn to look at him with a mixture of surprise and sympathy for his question. They know he wants to help however he can, but after Void was under control and hadn't appeared for quite some time, they weren't so sure it was a good idea to expose him like that again.

"Bob..." Yelena begins to say.

Bob hurries to explain himself.

"I know what you're gonna say. But I think I'm ready, I know I can control it" Bob says with determination in his voice "I've been practicing and trying to talk to him, so maybe I can do it, today"

"We know, Bobby," says John, "But we must complete the mission without any mistakes or problems along the way."

The brunette looks down and clears his throat, nodding. He raises his gaze to smile and meet Y/N's gaze, who smiles back.

"No, no, I understand," he says dejectedly. "When the time is right, I can come with you."

Bucky pats his shoulder and Alexei gives him a thumbs-up. Despite their attempt to lift his spirits, he can't help but feel useless and without any reason to be in the group, other than washing dishes, tidying the place, or reading books he finds lying around.

He hates the feeling.

But it is what it is, right now. And he has to face it.

After the meeting to organize the plan, the group dispersed to look for the weapons and prepare the car in which they would go to the location. Bob watched from afar as the rest of them prepared, while playing with his fingers. He shifted his gaze to the large window overlooking the city and didn't feel Y/N's presence approaching him.

"Hey," she said in a soft tone.

Bob turned his head to look at her and smiled delightedly.

"Hey," she asked.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He nods and laughs softly, pretending to be okay and swallowing the feeling that bothered him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine"

The girl mimics his smile and stares at him, while Bob feels the heat spread to his cheeks.

"Hey, how about we watch a movie when I get back?" she offers, patting his arm to get his attention.

Bob smiles.

"I was actually thinking it could be a movie night with just us. If you like that idea," Y/N says, crossing her arms and shrugging her shoulders with a smile on her face.

"A movie would be nice. I think it would be fun to have a movie night with the rest of the team," he says awkwardly "We haven't had one of those in a while, so..."

She lets out a soft laugh, thinking how cute he looks all flustered.

"Oh..." he remains silent to calm his nerves until he speaks again so as not to make a fool of himself. "Oh! Yeah, just the two of us. Of course. It could be fun. Count me in!"

Y/N smiles and laughs softly, wich sounds angelical to Bob's ears.

"Great. It's a date" she says.

Bucky calls her to let her know they're about to leave, so she starts walking away from Bob.

"See you, Bob."

"See you. Good luck," Bob says with a dazed smile on his face, remembering the girl's words.

It's a date.

Bob walks to his room with an excited smile, feeling happiness in his chest, but when he remembers the last thing Y/N said, his eyes widen.

"Oh shit! It is a date!"

He needs to prepare for it.

----------

Bob listened and watched from the communications room to see how the team was doing on the mission.

It wasn't going so easy as they planed back in the tower a few hours ago, as they had run into a group of mercenaries who weren't going to give up so easily. The brunette just hoped everyone was okay and managed to complete the mission—and he really hoped Y/N was okay and didn't get hurt.

A feeling of anguish and anxiety was causing Bob's chest to tighten. His leg kept moving as he played with the Rubik's Cube in his hands, unable to complete a color.

The sound of bullets filled his ears, and his jaw clenched as he heard and saw Yelena or Bucky being hit. Alexei grumbled as he tried to pull a man off John to help him, and Ava took care of a few. Y/N tried to stop the bullets as best she could, but there were some hidden snipers she couldn't sense with her powers so easily.

"There's to many of them!" John complains through the earpiece in Bob's ear.

"Fuck! If we don't stop the ones from the roof we cannot go back to the car!" Ava exclaims in an almost exhaustive voice.

"Shit. C'mon guys" Bob whispers while frowning his eyebrows at the scene.

"Bob, can you see how many are on the roof?" Yelena asks from the communicator in her ear.

"Uh, yeah, yeah" he says inmediatly "There's five on the roof. Three of them has guns and two of them are programming something on the computer. Seems like.... oh no"

"What Bob?" Bucky asks.

"It's a bomb! You need to get out of there" Bob says quickly.

"Shit," Yelena curses.

"I can try to stop them. But I need you to cover my back," Y/N says in a confident, hurried tone.

Bob watches as the girl begins to head toward the other side to attack the group of men with guns at the entrance. The others try to stop anyone from attacking her, and she moves stealthily between the bodies to reach the entrance. Bob focuses his attention on the cameras in the building that shows Y/N, his heart aching at what's happening in the footage. Or what could happen.

"Please, be careful," Bob whispers.

Y/N stops the guards' bullets at the entrance with precision in her movements and attacks some who plan to hit her. Bob's eyes glance at the rest of the team as they manage to escape thanks to the distraction caused by the girl with green sparkles flashing from her fingers. However, he doesn't stop for more than five seconds just to check on the girl again. He wants to make sure she's okay, even if it's from behind the computer. Far away from the place where she is right now —just the thought of it makes his inner self freak out.

Something it's beginning to awake inside of him. Something he thought he had buried for his own good.

Or rather someone.

"Y/N, all done. Let's head to the car. I'll try to get to you right away," Bucky orders.

"No. It's okay, I got this," she chimes in stubbornly.

Bob shakes his head.

But before she can do so, a stray bullet hits her shoulder, destabilizing the girl.

"Fuck!" she complains, touching her shoulder.

"Y/N?" Bucky asks worriedly.

"Y/N!" Bob yells, watching as one of the guards hits her with her gun on the back of her head, causing the girl to fall unconscious to the ground.

That's it.

Bob rushes out of the tower's communications room and runs to the balcony, where he takes to the air with determination. He doesn't stop for a second, because time is precious, especially after seeing Y/N getting attacked. The only thing that keeps repeating in his mind is the visual image of the girl being injured, so he moves quickly through the air until he reaches the others. He had seen the coordinates and the area where they were, so it was easy for him to arrive in time.

Bob tries to find the place that the camera allowed him to watched the area in wich the girl was back at the tower, and when he finds it, he is surprised to find that one of the men responsible of attacking Y/N is carrying her unconscious body in his arms. Fury courses through his veins at the sight, and he rushes to stop the bastard. It's as if he's being consumed by darkness, a sensation he knows all too well.

As soon as he's in front of the guy, he stops him and without a second thought, tries to attack him, careful not to hit Y/N. The man looks at him in horror and carefully places the girl's body on the ground, then raises his hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know..." he stumbles, but all Bob sees is red.

He growls and begins to mercilessly beat the man's body, making him bleed, and doesn't stop until he's unconscious. Blow after blow, unleashing all the anger he felt at seeing how the bastard hurt the girl. He can still see her grimace of pain and how her body fell unconscious to the ground, helpless, and who knows what they might have done to her if he hadn't arrived in time.

"Please...." the man begs almost unconscious.

Bob doesn't hear him. He doesn't want to.

And Void doesn't want to too.

The rest of the team arrives at Y/N's location, only to see her lying on the ground with a scarlet stain forming on the shoulder of her suit, while Bob kills the man. Ava approaches the girl's body and makes sure she has a steady pulse, while John makes sure that no one appears and attacks them by surprise.

"Bob," Yelena warns and tries to approach him to make him see reason.

"No! He hurt her. No one can touch her, or hurt her!" he exclaims in a mixture of anger and darkness. "No one! You heard me? Fucking no one!"

The others stare at the scene and notice how Y/N wakes up and observes the state Bob is in. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, she rushes over to him and wraps her arms around him from behind, resting her face on his.

"Bob, hey. It's okay," she murmurs in his ear, feeling the man begin to slow down the blows, so she tightens her grip on his body. "I'm okay. Everything will be okay."

Bob calms down and brings his now covered in blood hands to Y/N's arms, then turns his body and hugs her with all his strength, trying to cover her body to protect her just in case, and also feel her in his arms and make sure nothing happens to her anymore.

"You are hurt" he whispers in her ear.

"It's just a scratch. I'll be fine" Y/N says with a small smile on her lips.

"He hurt you. I couln't allow him to do it" he says in a broken voice.

Y/N looks at the rest of the team and smiles at them, letting them know she's okay. Kinda. Bucky sighs and shakes his head at the girl in that state, knowing she must be screaming from the pain of the bullet, while Alexei smiles sideways and tries to encourage her from a distance. The blonde russian girl mouths to her that she will get the car ready to go, to wich Y/N nods and indicates her to do so.

"We still have our date," she tells him, still standing with the brunette, glancing at the man's lifeless body.

Bob lets out a sigh and nods his head against Y/N's chest, agreeing with her.

"Our date," he says in a soft tone, relaxing at the touch of her fingers in his hair. Although he can't help but feel anger again when he smells the metallic scent coming from the girl's wound.

"Yeah. Are we still up to that?"

"Definitely" Bob answers and lets out a small laugh.

She smiles and then pulls away from him to look him in the eye. Those blue orbits who watch her with a spark on his eyes.

"So let's go home and have our date, okay?" Bob nods and then lowers his gaze to the girl's wound.

"First, we need to treat your wound," he says, pointing to the red stain on her suit.

"Would you help me with that?"

"You don't have to ask me twice."

They both stare at each other with a small smile on their faces, understanding how much they care for each other and would do anything to keep them safe and viceversa.

Especially Bob.

And as long as Y/N is in his arms, he'll be okay.

[yourstrulyrani]

on my period and thinking and how husband!john price would be the type of man to indulge his gorgeous woman in retail therapy during this time of the month. (also thank you all for 800 followers, i'm so grateful for every single one of you and it makes my heart swell to know that you guys enjoy my blog & my writing ♡)

husband!john who takes you to victoria's secret on your period because he knows it's your favorite store. he sees the way you go to the mail and save the coupons they send you for later.

husband!john who furrows his eyebrows in frustration when you look up at him and ask, "how much can i spend?" with your pretty doe eyes. he scoffs at the question and dismisses it with a, "spend as much as you want, pretty girl" and a kiss on your cheek.

husband!john who surprisingly doesn't feel out of place at vs like most guys with their women. he thinks to himself that men like that are not men but little boys, immature and pathetic. he's by your side the whole time throughout the store, a hand on the small of your back as you look around. he thinks you'd look good in everything and voices his opinion about what would look good on you, but he lets you take the lead.

husband!john who licks his lips when you finally pick up the first thing you want: a blush pink babydoll nightgown. lace adorns the neckline, and all john can think about is seeing you in it and then right after stripping it off your body. when you ask him, "how is this?" all he can manage is an approving nod, a palm sliding down from his nose to his beard, scratching it to control his urge to take you right then and there.

husband!john who lets you scour the store without the need to carry any of the things you're about to buy, that's what he is here for anyway. you're already on your period and he needs you to be as comfortable as possible. when you offer a hand to carry the bag, he shakes his head, "i got it, baby. just keep shopping, okay?"

husband!john who sees the worry in your eyes at the register when you look at the total. you know that john lets you spend as much as your heart desires, but you always feel a little guilty. you're even more guilty because of your hormones so you tug the end of his shirt's sleeve and offer to put some things back to cut the total down a little but he shakes his head reassures you, "if my money isn't being spent on you, then consider it a waste." he holds your hand and squeezes it three times for "i love you" as he slides his card into the reader.

husband!john who drives to a food place after the shopping trip because he knows how dizzy shopping makes you sometimes and now your endless cravings add on to it. he feeds you with one hand while rubbing your stomach with the other, making sure that like always, you're as comfortable as possible.

(i literally love vs and i CANNOT WAIT to drain my man's bank account with weekly shopping trips because of it MWAHAHA)

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 1 - Innocence

My weekly helping of hurt with no comfort. Enjoy. CW: dead dove don't eat, torture, suicidal thoughts. poly 141 x reader who is accused of being a traitor... you know the drill.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

It hurts. There’s two types of pain.

The physical pain, the sting of your lungs as a cloth is placed over your mouth and water is poured over your face. 

The burn as your lungs beg for a beak in the relentless cycle. If you could speak you would beg them to stop. 

They won't listen, you know that. Maybe that makes it worse. 

Maybe that makes it harder to understand why they would do this to you. 

‘What’s your connection to Makarov?’ It's John. He always asks the questions. Gesturing at Simon to give you a break so you can answer. 

That's the second type of pain. You’re innocent, they don't know that. Right now you’re guilty in their eyes. The mental torture-your friends, your lovers, whatever you want to call them- they’re hurting you. And they’re not going to stop until they’re satisfied. 

That's never going to happen because they don't know yet.

They don't know you’re innocent. 

‘I have no connection to Makarov,’ you say between breaths. 

They don't know you’re innocent.

You can't blame them, they’re doing their job. For queen and country.

The rag is pressed back over your nose and mouth and more water is poured over it. 

You can't breathe, they won’t let you. 

Simon… 

Simon who has held you in his arms letting you pour your heart out to him is there, his hands around your face making sure you suffer.

Making sure you live.

Suffering is not enough, you need to live. 

They need you to live…

Kyle watches from the window. He refused to participate. He got a bollocking from Price. This is messy work. 

They keep you updated on Johnny's condition. Almost like that's supposed to change your mind. 

‘He’s in a coma, fighting for his life because of you!’ John snaps. 

Nothing you say can change their mind. No amount of begging or pleading. 

You tried to keep it together. You didn't last long. John and Simon know what they’re doing. 

The rag is removed from your face again.

‘How did Makarov know about the raid?’ John's voice is harsh, angry, loud and commanding. 

‘I don't know.’ you say. It's the truth, it's not you. You would never hurt them. 

They don't believe you.

Why should they believe you? 

You don’t know what evidence they have against you. Not that they would tell you, they’re keeping that information close to their chest.

They want to break you first.

You don’t stand a chance.

You don’t know how many days it’s been. Maybe that’s the worst. Physiological torture, is sometimes more effective then physical torture. They keep going for what feels like hours, until you’re vomiting back up the water that escaped down your throat. 

That’s when they stop, leaving the room in silence, your stomach raw, your body shivering. At least you’re alone now. That’s when you cry, pray, whatever you want. You get a few hours of loneliness before they start again. 

How could they do this, the people you love? 

Then you remember the shot ripping through Johnny’s chest. The screaming, the blood. The crack of his ribs under your hands as you pumped on his chest trying to keep him alive. 

Then the confusion. The data, the plans, Makarov knew everything, and according to all the evidence that was your fault. 

No, you know how they could do this. Because in their eyes you’re a traitor. In their eyes you might as well have shot Johnny yourself. 

Maybe that would have been better, then at least they would have given you a quick death.

next Hey, I kind of hate this trope but I do love writing it! IMO 141 would never just jump straight to torture of someone they loved without irrefutable evidence... Its fantasy though and that's what I love about fanfics! Banners by firefly-graphics

[roosterr]

hi! i was wondering if i could request your thoughts/drabble on how the 141 would react if a mission went awful and you were left in the hospital with amnesia! like the reader wakes up and has no memory of her team🥲

if you aren’t taking requests atm or this doesn’t fit with your writing, i completely understand and you can ignore this! just wanted to say i binged your masterlist and absolutely love all your writings! keep up the amazing content <3

the 141 when you have amnesia

note: AAA TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! and ty for reading my stuff, it means a lot!! i had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable, this concept is just so JUICY,,, i really hope you like it!! <3

wc: 2.8k

warnings: established relationship, angst sadness and depression wow i did not mean for this to get so sad

ao3

[part two]

price

✹ he would undoubtedly blame himself for what happened to you. as your captain, it was his job to keep you safe and make sure you came home in one piece, and he'd failed you there.

✹ weeks and weeks go by as he waits endlessly for you to wake up, and with every day that ends with you still unconscious, he feels his resolve slipping just a little bit more.

✹ he holds himself together as well as he can, keeping his head high and projecting confidence that you'd be okay, if only to keep the team's spirit up. they still needed their captain, and he'd be damned if he failed them too.

✹ behind closed doors, however, he's a mess.

✹ john drinks, a lot, so much that it’s irresponsible, but the image of you, beaten and bloody and barely breathing haunts him every time he closes his eyes. he locks himself in his office, away from the others and ignores their concerned calls through the door.

✹ he visits you, only when it's late and there's no one else around to hear him whisper apologies to you with a lump in his throat. he confesses to you like a sinner, all the things he wishes he'd done differently, how he'd put himself in your place in a heartbeat if it meant you'd be okay.

✹ other than those nights, he does his best to stay away from the infirmary. it’s selfish, but he can’t bear to see you in such a fragile state.

✹ he’s in his office when you wake up.

✹ the nurse finds him on his second drink of the night, and no sooner than the news leaves her mouth he's pushing past her and rushing to the infirmary. he bursts through the door, startling you and the other nurse with you.

✹ "hey, sweetheart." he’s by your side in an instant, taking one of your hands in both of his as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. it feels like it's been an age since you've looked at him, the sight of your eyes alone almost has the dam behind his own breaking.

✹ you’re staring back at him with a somewhat lost expression, but john’s so relieved that you’re here, that you're back, it slips his notice.

✹ he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, like he's done hundreds of times before, but you stop him by placing your other hand on his chest. he pulls back with a concerned frown, finally noticing the unsure look you're wearing.

✹ the nurse briefly explains that some memory loss is common for the amount of head trauma you sustained. he should've expected something like this, in fact it's a miracle you made it out with just memory loss.

✹ "i'm sorry, can you tell me who you are?" you ask meekly, looking back at him with an apologetic look in your eye. you look guilty, like it's your fault this happened and not because of his own shortcomings.

✹ john's heart sinks at your words, but he's careful not to show it. amnesia can be temporary, he knows that, he just has to jog your memory.

✹ "i'm john," he smiles as warmly as he can through the panic in his chest, lifting his left hand to show you the wedding band on his finger, "your husband."

✹ your jaw falls open, your eyes wide as you look between the ring, his face, and the nurse behind him, who simply nods in confirmation of the captain's words.

✹ "you're…" you mutter, disbelief taking over your voice, "my husband?"

✹ you take his left hand in yours, bringing it closer to your face and examining the wedding band, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of your lips.

✹ "yes, love," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, grasping your left hand and showing you the matching band on your own finger, "we're married."

✹ "seriously?" you ask, comparing the rings on your fingers and looking back up to him with an almost comically surprised face. john nods again, his moustache tilted with an amused smile.

✹ "been together for nearly seven years."

✹ "how the hell did i convince you to marry me?" you mutter. at that, he lets out a real laugh, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

✹ "think i should be the one askin' that question."

gaz

✹ kyle takes it harder than anyone.

✹ he visited you once, at the first opportunity when you were stable enough to not require constant observation, but the sight ruins him. you looked so weak, nothing like how you should; your cheeks were sunken and your skin has a sickly sheen to it, and there was nothing he could do to help you.

✹ he couldn't stand it.

✹ he becomes so easily irritated, a hair trigger just waiting to snap. the others want to help him, but he won't let them get close enough to try. any mention of your name has him shutting down, leaving faster than they can finish their sentence.

✹ he barely sleeps, spending most nights curled up in your bed with his tears soaking your pillow. he surrounds himself with your clothes, things that smell like you, but your scent eventually fades and he just feels so alone without you.

✹ price finds him like that one night, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against your bed after throwing up from crying so hard. he hauls kyle up by the collar of his shirt, and forces him to meet his stern eyes through the tears.

✹ "pull yourself together, garrick! they need you to be strong for them, how d'you think they're gonna feel when they wake up and see you like this?"

✹ after that it's like the spell is broken, and he realises just how pathetic he's been acting. in the weeks you've been out, he's only visited you – his partner – once. you'd never forgive him if you knew.

✹ from that night onwards, he visits you at least once a day, filling multiple vases around your bed with beautiful flowers and making sure they never wilt.

✹ he got 'get well soon' cards for you too, having each of your teammates, and even kate, sign one to decorate your room.

✹ you wake up surrounded by life and colour, physical evidence of how much he loves you that puts a smile on your exhausted face, even if you don't know who left them.

✹ he's off base when you wake up, picking up a fresh bouquet for your room. his phone rings as he's leaving the florists, and as soon as he hears the nurse's voice he's sprinting back to his car, throwing the flowers onto the passenger seat and racing back to base.

✹ he bursts through the infirmary doors to see you standing with the help of the nurse, your legs wobbly but your face determined. he almost breaks down in the doorway.

✹ when you look up and meet his eyes, he feels his heart stutter in his chest. he rushes towards you, the new bouquet slipping from his fingers, and almost knocks you off your feet with the how hard he embraces you.

✹ you let out a small 'oomph' as he squeezes you, hesitantly wrapping your own arms around his torso. he sniffles into your shoulder, a few tears wetting your shirt despite his attempts to hold them back.

✹ "hey, uhm…" your voice reaches his ears, hoarse with disuse, "are you okay? what's your name?"

✹ "what?" kyle lifts his head, pulling back to mirror your confused gaze. "babe, what're you on about?"

✹ the nurse pulls him aside, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as she explains your amnesia to him.

✹ you really didn't remember him. his heart withers in his chest, the pain of losing you all over again spreading to the ends of every limb.

✹ "no, no no no–" he mumbles, stumbling back over to where you sit and cupping your worried face so gently, like you'd break if he was too rough. "please, love, you have to remember"

✹ you cover his hands with your own, a few tears falling from your eyes and rolling hot against kyle's palms. "i'm sorry, i want to remember, but…"

✹ "please, i love you…"

soap

✹ johnny spends every free moment at your bedside.

✹ he talks to you, tells you stories about everything that's happened since you've been asleep; the time ghost burnt dinner and set the fire alarms off, a robin that landed on the windowsill of your shared room, anything that comes to mind.

✹ sometimes he plays your favourite songs, sitting on the end of your bed softly humming along, praying that you'll hear it and come back to him.

✹ most often though, he draws you. he fills page after page of his sketchbook with sketches of you; the peaceful look on your face as you lay next to him, memories from before the accident, the two of you together – though he always puts infinitely more detail into you than himself.

✹ similarly to the captain, johnny stays positive about your condition, refusing to even entertain the idea of you not waking up. he's optimistic, and so good at hiding the anguish of being without you that even ghost is fooled by his facade.

✹ he won't let the others worry about him. you're the one in the hospital, you're the one that deserves their sympathies, he has to stay positive for everyone so they don't worry, so you have something familiar to come back to when you wake up–

✹ in reality, he's living in denial. he's on the verge of a steep mental nosedive, and if he looks past his delusions for even a second, he's afraid he'll spiral into a pit he won't be able to claw his way back out of.

✹ so he continues to live like that. he has one-sided conversations with you, going on for hours as if you're talking back to him. he brings you your favourite meal when the mess hall makes it, putting it on your bedside table so you can reach it and clearing it up the next day when he comes back.

✹ when you eventually, finally wake up, he's already there with you.

✹ it was late, and against the nurse's wishes he'd climbed into your hospital bed with you, an arm around your shoulder holding you close his chest while his other hand doodles away in his sketchbook.

✹ you let out a small sound and shift against him, and his heart skips a beat under your ear at the realiseation that you're back.

✹ any lingering tiredness immediately disappears from his mind, as he throws his sketchbook carelessly onto the side table and wastes no time in gathering you up into his arms and bringing you into a crushing hug.

✹ a groggy, surprised noise leaves you, the sound of your voice lighting up johnny's face with a smile so wide it aches. he loosens his hold just enough to hold the side of your head with one hand, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world.

✹ "there y'are, bonnie, i missed you so much,"

✹ he presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes glassing and his heart full with how relieved he is that you're awake.

✹ "...what's going on?" you mutter, your eyes darting all over his face and to the room around you with a confused furrow in your brow.

✹ "lemme call the nurse," he replies with an easy, comforting smile, reaching somewhere behind him for the call button.

✹ while you wait for the nurse, he helps you sit up, adjusting the pillows behind your back so you can sit comfortably, all the while rambling about everything and nothing all at once.

✹ "you should've seen gaz's face, darl, it was priceless–"

✹ "i'm sorry, i… i dont remember you…"

✹ nothing has ever shut him up quite as effectively as those words.

✹ "wh… what? stop messin' about, bonnie," he chuckles, desperately searching your eyes for the humour that was missing. when you only shake your head in response, the smile fades from his face and quickly morphs into concern.

✹ "sergeant mactavish, how many times do i have to tell you to get off the bed!" the nurse exclaims as she enters the room. he doesn't get down though, just fixes her with the most intense look he's ever worn.

✹ "why don't they remember me?"

✹ the nurse explains that an injury like yours was bound to cause some lasting damage, but amnesia was more often than not temporary.

✹ "i'm sorry, i wish i could remember you…" you mutter, dropping your gaze to your lap as he turns back to you.

✹ johnny exhales deeply, finding a great sense of comfort that you'll most likely get your memory back. he gently tilts your chin up again so he can stare deep into your eyes.

✹ "don't apologise, that just means i get to woo you all over again, bonnie."

ghost

✹ simon would be destroyed.

✹ while you're knocked out its like he forgets how to be human. he eats, sleeps, and breathes on autopilot – like a robot with a function, no feeling, just keeping himself alive until you wake up.

✹ it worries the others, price especially, but the walls around his heart are expertly crafted, and without you by his side he sees no purpose in lowering them.

✹ when you do wake up, the first thing you see is him, sitting at your bedside with his hand enclosed around yours. his eyes are closed, but he's still very much awake, in fact he finds himself unable to rest anywhere but in the chair by your side.

✹ the way you try to pull your hand from his brings him back to the present and alerts him to your consciousness. his eyes snap open in less than a second, already glassy with the pure relief he feels now you're back.

✹ but you're looking at him differently. where there would once be soft affection, now he can only see confusion, and worst of all, panic.

✹ and there's fear in how your shoulders bunch up, but simon tries his best to ignore that thought.

✹ "hey, you're alright, darlin'," he coos, as gentle as he can manage, pushing the rising dread to the back of his mind.

✹ he presses the button to call the nurse, letting go of your trembling hand bringing it up to your shoulder. your worried gaze flicks to his arm and back to his face, which makes him pause in his tracks.

✹ "who… who are you?"

✹ simon's waited so long to hear your voice again, but hearing those four words from you shatters his heart into pieces.

✹ no.

✹ you didn't forget him. there was no way.

✹ "it's…" he swallows hard, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "it's me, love, it's simon."

✹ you're still looking at him with that same anxious expression, and he curses himself when he realises he's still wearing his balaclava. he practically rips it from his head, dropping it to the floor without a care for where it fell.

✹ your eyes study his bare face, tracing over every crease and scar, the mess of hair on top of his head, and finally landing on his desperate eyes.

✹ "i'm sorry, i…" you look guilty, the subtle shake of your head hurting simon like a knife to the chest. "...do i know you?"

✹ the silence that follows your words is unbearable.

✹ you really did forget him.

✹ all the time you'd spent together, the memories you shared, the love you had; it was all gone, just like that.

✹ suddenly he felt like the walls were closing in on him, he couldn't get enough air and his skin was crawling with the need to escape.

✹ at that moment, the nurse comes through the doors, startling simon into standing from the chair and stumbling backwards. he never takes his eyes off of your guilt-ridden face. you didn't know him, not anymore, and that meant he was all alone again, with no one to care for him and call home.

✹ the emptiness in his chest was enough to make him want to rip the hair from his scalp.

✹ the nurse says something, stealing your attention from him with words he's too overwhelmed to listen to. he takes the opportunity to back away, disappearing through the doors with a hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.

✹ it was a miracle to two of you got together in the first place – simon didn't know if he could get you to love him again.

[band--psycho]

Poly!141 x Reader - Stop The Wedding (Part 9)

I hope you all enjoy this part 💛

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you for all the continued support 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Catch up on the previous part here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13

Warnings: Feelings of anger, confusion, jealousy, brief mentions of death/being killed/being shot, arguments, shouting, mentions of knives

Your sleep was restless. 

Your mind, unable to comprehend what had happened the previous evening. 

Phillips defensiveness and avoidance. 

Simon’s admission to a question that you’d always yearned an answer from. 

You were sure you had fallen asleep at some point from pure exhaustion; but you gained very little rest from it. 

Mainly you just spent the night staring up at the ceiling, scenarios running through your mind like a movie. 

Scenarios you shouldn’t have been thinking of, where John had told you the truth instead of just breaking up with you; where you all remained together. 

Happy. 

Blissfully so. 

Today was meant to be your first day off of work, but you couldn’t bear it. 

Couldn’t bear pretending to be happy when everything in your life was turning into such a mess. 

So you did something you very rarely did; you called in sick. 

You felt a little guilty, that feeling only getting worse when you heard genuine concern in your manager's voice. 

Thankfully, your manager did press the situation too much and just told you to text her to let her know if you’d be in tomorrow. 

You hoped you would be; craving for a sense of normalcy within the chaos that was surrounding you. 

You made yourself a coffee; stronger than normal, in the hopes that that would keep you at least semi functional throughout the day. 

You tried to distract yourself, picking up the book that had been left on the coffee table from the previous night. 

That didn’t work. 

You tried watching tv. 

That didn’t work either. 

You'd even tried doing chores with your headphones blaring your favourite songs in your ears, songs that you usually couldn’t help but sing along to.

But even that didn’t work. 

You decided that maybe what you needed to do was get out of the house and go for a walk. 

You weren’t really sure what Phillip was doing today, seeing as you hadn’t heard from him since he abruptly left after your argument. 

Part of you was worried about him. 

Part of you was relieved that he wasn’t home yet; it meant that you could work out what you were going to say to him. 

How you were going to say the very thing you’d been so excited to plan wasn’t going to be happening, not for now at least. 

You quickly scribbled a message on a piece of paper, leaving it on top of the table in the hallway where the key bowl sat. 

Your message was simple, ‘Needed to clear my head, gone out for a walk. Text/call me when you’re ready to talk x’

You considered writing ‘I love you’ on the bottom of the note, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, so you simply left the note as it was, grabbing your keys and walking out of the door. 

You didn’t really know where you were walking to, there was no particular place you were heading to, you just put your headphones in and started walking. 

~~~~~~~

“You did fucking what?” John practically shouted at Simon, evidently pissed off by what his lieutenant had just said so casually over breakfast in the kitchen. 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

Neither could Johnny and Kyle; however they were certainly more calmer than the Captain was at Simons revelation.

He'd just told them all that not only did he see you last night; he also kissed you on the cheek and told you that the only reason they broke up with you was to keep you safe. 

“How could you do that, Si?” Kyle asked; his voice softer than what John’s was previously; knowing that he, Johnny and the table, were the only things separating John and Simon. 

“Do what?” Simon responded gruffly, leaning against the counter, his mug in hand. 

“Kiss her, tell her the truth…how could you confuse her like that?”

Simon mulled over Kyle’s words for a second; pondering his reply. 

In his eyes; he hadn’t done anything wrong. 

He kissed you on the cheek, a comforting gesture more so than anything else because what else could he do? 

You were in pain, he knew you were, was he just meant to ignore that? 

He did that once before and hated himself for months after, he couldn’t do it. 

Not again.

And he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true about their current feelings; they all still loved her. 

He didn’t  go into detail about why John had ended things with her; he was intentionally vague knowing that that wasn’t for him to talk about. 

“Do you know how shit it was, seeing her in pain again?” Simon retorted, “I kissed her cheek to give her some form of comfort ‘cos she needed it.”

Then he turned his attention to John. 

“She wanted the truth last night, I wasn’t about to lie to her, not about that.”

John’s jaw tightened slightly at Simon’s words. 

“You had no right to do that!” John snapped back; taking a few steps towards Simon, but quickly being grabbed on the hand by Kyle. 

“No right to do what?” Simon challenged, pushing himself off of the counter, “We should've told her the truth when we came back. ”

Johnny, who’d been unusually quiet during this time, rose to his feet, and stood by Simon’s side. 

A united front. 

“He's right, John,” the Scotsman calmly said; making John's eyes flick between him and Simon. 

Johnny's words only made the divide between them all evident; John and Kyle believed keeping you in the dark was for the best, Simon and Johnny believed telling you the truth was better.

“You all know how dangerous telling her the truth is, yet you’d willingly just put her in danger like that?"

“None of us want her hurt, John” Kyle reasoned, squeezing John's hand briefly; hating the look of betrayal that was forming in his blue eyes as they met his own, “And we have no idea where-”

Kyle’s words were cut off when he heard the front door of their house open. 

He looked around at Johnny and Simon before his eyes finally landed back on Johns; each one of them clearly wondering the same thing. 

‘Who the fuck just got into our house?’

Simon grabbed the knife block, placing it in the centre of the table before grabbing a knife from it; the others doing the same. 

John went first; slowly moving towards the archway of the kitchen; before freezing when he heard footsteps walking through the hallway.

He was ready. 

Ready to kill whoever it was that had just let themselves into his and his partners home. 

That was until he saw you.

And you saw him.  

“Pretty rude way to welcome a guest,” You stated, slightly terrified at the sight in front of you; John holding a very large kitchen knife.

“You didn’t think to knock, Y/n?” The captain scolded; perplexed by why and how you even got in here in the first place.

“I did knock; multiple times, no one was answering and I heard shouting,” you explained, your voice portraying that you were calm despite the fact you weren’t entirely so. 

“So you thought you’d just let yourself in?” John asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you. 

“Well the spare key was in the same place, so yeah…” you shrugged, blinking at between John and the knife in his hand, “didn’t think you were gonna come at me with a knife though.”

John didn’t say anything; he just sighed, horrified that had he been more hasty, he could’ve stabbed you before lowering the knife and walking back into the kitchen. 

You took his silence to mean you were allowed in, so followed him. 

“It’s alright guys,” he said, placing the he’d been holding back into the knife block.

“Y/n?!” you heard Kyle’s voice first; shock evident in his voice and face. 

“Fuckin’ Hell Bon,” Johnny sighed, putting his own knife into the block before walking over to you; his eyes instantly noticing how tired you looked.

“Scared the shit outta us,” he continued, pulling you into his arms, expecting for you to try and push him away and being unable to not be shocked when you didn’t. 

You didn’t hug him back. 

But he didn’t care. 

He just cared that you were here and that John hadn’t killed you in the hallway. 

He could’ve stayed like that, with you in his arms, it felt right; felt like part of home. 

A part of his home that’d been missing.

“Let her breathe, Johnny,” Simon said, moving his hand to Johnny's shoulder. 

Johnny let you go pretty much instantly at Simon’s words, his lieutenant snapping him out of the thoughts that were rushing through his mind. 

He kept waiting for you to say something about the hug, but you didn’t. 

You just smiled at him. 

It was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless and a real one, not a fake or forced one. 

God he’d missed that. 

They all had. 

“Why’re you here?” John asked; already knowing the reason for your visit, without you saying anything. 

“Think we’ve all got some things we need to talk about,”

John shot Simon a glare at your words. 

An action that didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

You knew it was the two of them that you’d heard shouting; and you could take an educated guess what it was about. 

“Don’t be mad at him for telling me the truth,” you defended Simon; watching as John turned his attention towards you; his eyes softening slightly as his eyes met yours. 

“Best you take a seat then,” the captain said as Simon pulled out the closest seat to you, allowing you to sit down. 

You were all sitting around the table; like old times.

You felt a familiar ache in your heart as you braced yourself for whatever it was that you were going to be told; knowing the impact the truth could have on you; on them and your relationship with them.

Tagging:

@sunrise-willarive @imdeadontheinside786 @asterionex @pinkyyoshi @yaradigital @euriiverse @eternallyvenus @s-void @rivwritesiguess @lilyalone @salemlovespies @z-wantstowrite @maryrhodalouandted @uraeus56 @skipping-throughlife @backalleytimetravel @fruitymoonbeams-blog @alejandro-vargass-wife @moon-on-the-crest @dasphinxone @magicwriterinspo @lilylovesliterature @tabbslouuformer @disasterofastory @famouspoetrydinosaur @yearninglustfully @therapyneeds @beautifuleaglealpaca @mischievousprincess01 @rite-te-suli-kireysi-ite @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @ontopofthefridge @rosecastiello @bookworm1767 @harrys-ravioli @hypertail @hahaifolded @felinegaymerl0ver @little-mini-me-world @elita1 @noheadcanons-juststories @nocturnal-nyx @myamazingnerdyness @ilovesoapandnotthebar

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Kitten (John Walker)

Description: Y/N wants to get a cat but John doesn’t think it’s a good ideal.

Word Count: 1,300

Author’s Note: I almost wanna write moments that John has with the kitten.

“Babe, what if we get a cat?” Y/N randomly asked as she laid on the bed on her phone. John was changing his pants but he stopped and looked over at her, “What?” He asked, not sure if he heard her correctly. She set her phone down and looked at him with pleading eyes, “We should get a cat.” It was the dumbest idea to him, what time would they have to take care of a cat? They had Bob, who was sweet like a kitten, that should be good enough.

“No.” He shook his head and pulled up his pants. Her jaw dropped at his answer, “What?” She was hurt, she really wanted a cat. “Too much work.” He said as he got in bed next to her. She rolled her eyes and bit her tongue wanting to call him stupid. “No it’s not.” She said and turned towards him. He refused to look in her eyes knowing that she’ll have puppy dogs eyes that he hated saying No to.

“We don’t have time for an animal.” He told her and even though they were Avengers they absolutely had time. “Please baby.” She pouted and he looked at her, “No. You'll be fine.” Gosh he really was an asshole at times, she thought. “Plus.”, he pulled her in his arms, “We have a pussy, well you do and I take care of it.” He winks and she laughs, “That was terrible.” “Was not.” 

Y/N decided to get the other Avengers’ opinions on if they should get a cat. Everyone but Bucky agreed, he was on the fence. He also agreed with John that they really didn’t need a cat but he wasn’t totally against it. “So I’m signing this piece of paper to get a cat?” Bob asked as he gladly signed. “It's more of a petition.” Y/N told him and handed it to Yelena.

“I’m glad to sign.” She said, “Anything to go against Walker.” Y/N laughed at that. She took the paper to Alexei and Ava who signed it as well. John was training in the gym by himself when she took the paper to him with a smile on her face, “Ohhh John.” She teased in a sing-song voice. John stopped punching the bag and turned to her, “Come to be my cheerleader?” He winked and she fake gagged.

She handed him the paper and looked at it, “What is this?” He asked as he saw everyone’s signatures besides Bucky. “A petition to get a kitten. You lost.” He shook his head and handed her back the paper, “No, I’m right and everyone knows it. We don’t need a cat.” He told her and he was kinda frustrated with this.

“John, please.” She begged and he sighed, “I’m sorry baby but it’s not a good idea.” He wasn’t being an asshole about it but her face still dropped. She was going to get a cat whether he liked it or not. She walked away from him as he was calling her name, “Whatever John.” He hated seeing her upset but it wasn’t a good idea. Little did he know that the next day they’d have a kitten. 

Y/N smiled as the walked into the tower with a brown kitten. She wasn’t sure if she was smiling because she got the kitten or because of John’s reaction. “No man will ever tell me what I can and can’t do.” She mumbled as she got into the elevator. She had to say that she was a little nervous, fighting with John wasn’t ideal. Ava, Yelena and Bob were in the living area and nearly screeched in happiness when they saw the kitten. “Awwww it’s a baby.” Ava ran up to her.

She pet the kitten who purred in delight, “What’s the name?” Y/N truly hadn’t decided what the name would be yet. “Um Taco.” She decided upon John’s shield. Ava laughed and Y/N brought the kitten to Yelena and Bob who gave Taco loves. “Where’s John?” She asked, her voice filled with nerves. “He’s in the gym.” H Bob told her and she nodded. She let out a deep breath as she walked to the gym, John and Bucky were training.

Y/N walked in and the kitten had to meow making the boys stop. They both slowly turned to Y/N who held the kitten in her hands. Y/N had a guilty smile as the kitten meows again. John didn’t know what to say, he was angry, mad at her for getting one. Bucky looked over at John and saw this in his eyes, “We can pick this back up later…” he said awkwardly and left.

“I told you not to get a cat.” He said and walked up to her. “And I don’t listen to any man who tells me not to do something.” She bit back at him. “It’s not about that, it’s about respect. We don’t have time for an animal.” He exclaimed. “You don’t have time! I do and I’m not the only one. There’s Yelena, Ava and Bob who will gladly help me!” The kitten shoved his head against her stomach.

John huffed out, “Whatever Y/N.” John left the gym. John avoided her for the rest of the day, even at dinner he sat next to Bob. Y/N fed the cat when they ate and sat the dish next to her chair, “Awww he’s so cute.” Ava gushed over the kitten eating. John rolled his eyes as the others gushed over the kitten. John hated to admit it but he does think the kitten is cute but that didn’t mean he was gonna be all over it. 

Y/N had to shower and the others were asleep so she couldn’t ask any of them to watch the kitten and she refused to ask John. She left the kitten with a bowl of water in the room and took her shower. While she was in the shower John walked into the bedroom and his eyes immediately darted towards the kitten.

At first he glared and then sat on the bed, waiting for Y/N to talk about it. He was deep in thought on what he wanted to say when the kitten started attacking his feet, “Hey.” He glanced down at the brown kitten. “Get off.” He tried to move his foot but the kitten didn’t budge. He sighed dramatically and picked Taco up, “So you’re who my girlfriend disrespected me for.” John says to the kitten who just purred.

“You are cute.” He hated that he thought that. The kitten tried to get out of his grasp and landed on his lap. The kitten meows and laid down on his lap causing John to smile a little. Y/N was getting out of the shower while John decided to lay on the bed with the kitten and stare at it. He really didn’t want to like the kitten but he did. Y/N walked out of the bathroom and awed at the sight, John was nearly asleep with the kitten on his chest.

He looked over at her and she covered her mouth, “He loves you.” She cooed, “Taco loves you!” He looked at her, confused. “Taco?” He asked and sat up with the kitten. She nodded excitedly and sat down on the bed with them. “I named him Taco after your Taco Shield.” She said and he smiled at her and then down at the kitten.

“I love that.” It was genuine and full of love. “Taco, this is my boyfriend John.” Y/N introduced the kitten to him as if he hadn’t almost fallen asleep with him. “He wasn’t sure about you but now he loves you.” She was right, John was going to protect this cat with his life. “Bob still needs to fix my shield.”

[princessbrunette]

in order to not spam you i’m spit firing all my obx thoughts while i have the chance

-jj calling reader pooch (i love it so bad)

-john b x reader x jj.

- threesome w pope and jj

-rafe fingering bunny!reader

-popular reader who’s in love with pope

- needy sex w john b after he’s been away

thank you and until i’m allowed to send asks again

-sweetheart anon

lemme give my quick thoughts on all of these 😭

╔═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╗

• jj calling reader ‘pooch’

it’s my fav jj nickname for puppy, i love writing about it <3 pooch just sounds more like a princess pup who gets spoiled, and he probably calls puppy!reader pooch when she’s being pampered or acting a little spoilt. i just think it’s sweet n comedic like jj <3

• john b x reader x jj

i miss writing it so much !! i feel like that au used to be like, the main thing on my blog for a while !! we need to start talking about it again bc it was such a favourite !! the dynamic between the three is just so great — i think the last we spoke of it was the roadtrip au!

• threesome with pope and jj

the difference in personalities is alot to play with here. my first thoughts on this dynamic is always pope with his actual girlfriend who is always getting teased by jj, to the point where it definitely borders on flirting. pope feels like he should feel threatened and perhaps at first he does — but he’s so physically comfortable with jj that he starts to consider exploring things sexually. jj would definitely be on board with zero convincing needed !! he loves pope and wants to be respectful, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t jacked one out thinking about popes pretty shy gf on her back looking all guilty whilst she takes his dick :(

• rafe fingering bunny!reader

i always see this as a quick fix for bunny when she’s being needy in public. he can’t give her his dick all the time, sometimes he just needs to find a quicker solution. things would get out of hand at the country club when she’s clinging onto his arm telling his friends alarming facts about their sex life because she’s in that mood — until rafe has to press a hand over her mouth and march her to a toilet cubicle where he quickly makes her cream on his fingers whilst scolding her and telling her she better start behaving after she cums :(

• popular reader who’s in love with pope

this trope is always funny because it’s like everyone can see it but pope. she’d be all over him, clinging to his arm, finding him at every party practically throwing herself at him and pope is just trying so hard to be respectful and when asked about it he’s always like “nah, she’s just friendly. she gets like that.” and jj is literally on the verge of exploding like “dude. you’re supposed to be the smart one okay how can you not see that this chick is begging — no, dying for it. she wants you to give her that heyward special bro. please swoop on that. you’re killing me!” and popes like oh. what? no. she’s not— no—

• needy sex with john b after he was away

this is very puppy!reader coded <3 she’d pounce on him as soon as he’s through the door to the chateau and doesn’t care if the other pogues are in tow behind him, jumping into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and humping up and down as she kisses him all drooly and desperate, teeth clashing. he’d literally be like “woah, okay— hi. hi baby.” smiling so hard as he pulls back but she hasn’t got time for introductions!!!!! get that dick out!!!!!!!

╚═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╝

[flo-zoinks]

Plzplzplz i love ur headcannons sm!! Could u do some if they found a small cat wander into camp ??

Aw ty!!!!! (This is the first normal hc req I've had LMAO 💀)

HOW EACH RDR2 GANG MEMBER REACTS TO A CAT IN CAMP (MY OPINION)

Arthur - quite indifferent to it, probably jokes at least someone else'll be bringing in meat they hunt to camp, much to Dutch's distaste. He sketches it a couple times however

John - doesn't like cats too much, but grows a little close to it by them both sitting in silence in chapter 2 whilst John was still recovering

Javier - wants to keep the cat, often strokes kitty but isnt a huge cat fan, although perhaps he plays guitar whilst the cat listens. Calls it gordito

Pearson - rambles on sight that sailors and navy boys believe cats are good luck to anyone who hears as an excuse to bring up being in the navy. Offhandedly will feed it chunks that can't go into the main stew for whatever reason later on- (Arthur hates that)

Uncle - ignores the cat mostly but they are often found in the future lazing around together in camp. The people in camp say it's Uncle's protege

Bill - Worried on how Cain would interact with the kitty but if all goes well and they keep the cat he likes to keep the 2 animals together, insisting Cain could use some other friends

Hosea - Wants to keep the cat as long as its self reliant (eg hunts for itself), saying it'll boost a camp morale to have a pet. Reads the newspaper whilst it sits on the table together.

Dutch - immediately uses it as reason to have another speech praising cats for not following society's clutch and doing as they please with no care. Calls it Ruth (Ruthie by most)

Mary-Beth - falls in love with the cat, likes to write with them curled up on her lap and brushes it with a special hairbrush she (stole) got. Once also (stole) got a cute pendant and put it on the cat as a collar - though had to take it off knowing it would get stolen and put the kitty in danger

Tilly - also wants to keep it, and rants to the cat about Miss Grimshaw whilst the kitty listens. Probably a little protective of it and wants the cat to be a pet for the girls and keeps it away from select guys

Karen - "aw that's cute". Doesn't really care past that but perhaps makes a sarcastic comment to the cat every once in a while talking shit about someone

Grimshaw - at first didnt want an unhygienic animal here, but quickly grew to love it as a mini helper in removing vermin and mouse. Often is seen walking around camp with the kitty and tells camp members to take notes as it's a lot more clean then half the gang

Abigail - strokes the kitty and likes the cat, though is also quite indifferent to it. However shes one of the first to look for it if it goes missing for Jack's sake

Jack - ADORES THE CAT. Cried a little to Abigail saying he felt guilty for liking a cat which is a dogs enemy, therefore Cain's. But now often they play together and when he has naps the cat curls up close next to him

Trelawny - REALLY likes cats, surprisingly. Ensures Micah isn't near to the kitty and uses it as an assistant for his magic tricks. Says every wizard needs his cat. Probably when disappearing will reappear more often to check up on the cat

Strauss - a little avoiding to it at first thinking it's quite dirty, yet as he spends so much time in camp the cat grows to be his little helper whilst he does work, sitting in silence next to him. The only time Strauss ever shared his wealth was buying the cat a little bed next to his desk, partly to avoid it from sitting on his papers again.

Sean - quite superstitious on cats, so if it came around Christmas time hes very happy to see the cat. Believes it's good luck, but watches it closely in case it let's a mouse escape or purrs with it's back to the fire. Teaches all this to Jack, and likes to pat the cat periodically.

Lenny - doesn't care much for the cat, but if everyone else likes it then he supposes it's a good thing to have in camp. Worries to Hosea on having a cat whilst they move often the cat would struggle to adapt, but Hosea says not to worry as the cat is a lot smarter then half of camp, (he names Bill), and they manage.

Molly - also incredibly superstitious about cats, and at first doesn't want them to keep it saying its unhygienic. After time shes seen with the cat on her lap as she complains about her life to it brushing the kitty. However she says it's only to stop it being messy on her things. Insists it's a she and calls her Princess

Sadie - could not care less about the cat, probably ignores it if it comes close without realising

Charles - likes cats, pats the kitty often and gives it spare food he has. However he can't stand how the cat plays with live food, and had to put some animals out of its misery when the cat got bored with them, much to his disdain

Kieran - doesn't say anything but REALLY wants them to keep it. At first he's a little nervous around the cat but instantly warms up to it soon after and tries to spend all his time with the cat. Tries to get the cat and horses to bond

Micah - "Do we NEED another mangy lazy animal we've already got Swanson" really doesn't want a cat in camp, probably kicked it once without realising but didn't care much. Calls them weak animals for being always 'sneaky' rather than fighting everything head on on

Thanks for asking me!!!❤ what do you think?? HAVE A NICE DAY I LOVED THIS ASK XX

[rissararity]

"From the bottom of my heart; fuck you." - John Walker x reader

Word count; 1,008

No use of y/n

Thunderbolt!Reader x John Walker

Frenemies to lovers, bickering, firm dom John, asshole John, mutual pining, size kink, undertones of Sadism/masochism, unspoken consent, heightened senses Super Soldiers. Once things progress more (few chapters in, most likely) Minor humiliation kink, Unprotected P/V sex, creampie, dirty talking John, both degradation and praise sprinkled about, touch her and die and of course, gradual realization of mutual feelings.

I usually take a month to pump something out and this took like 3 days, so it may not be my best but I had a lot of fun writing it. Its also my first attempt at writing in the second person.

THIS IS PART ONE

Part TWO

 ---

“I'm Captain of this mission and I am giving you an order! Shut your fucking mouth!” John growled before stepping into the next room, shield first.

You tried to get Yelena or Ava to go on this mission in your stead, but both were also being sent on assignments.

Bucky and Bob weren’t options; The former because the two super soldiers would/have  beat each other to a pulp if/when left alone for too long, and the latter...was Bob.

You all adore Bob but he's… not mission ready. Nor does he want to be, really.

And so here you were, in an old Hydra base looking for some kind of power source prototype with the former dollar store Cap who’d been a dick to you since the moment you met him.

An energy you didn’t take laying down.

Fortunately,  the two of you had an understanding not to physically fight each other. Not everyone has super healing…you certainly don’t-not anymore.

He'd hurt you before – Bucky stepping in to save you- and he felt immensely guilty for it ever since.

Trying to be better, John has since become acutely aware that he could literally murder you with a single punch.

Not a single punch (outside of training) was acceptable.

Not gonna risk it.  Never gonna kill another innocent.

…Alright well, none of The New Avengers were innocent but the principle stands.

“You aren’t captain of shit, and there’s only two of us so what makes you the leader?” your voice echoed a bit, luckily this base seemed to be long forgotten.

Dropping his shield to his side, he whirled around blue eyes ablaze. The brief look of shock and genuine fear in your own eyes reminded him of his unspoken oath.

Not  a single punch.

Relaxing his fists, he shook out his shoulders and took a short but slow breath to calm himself.

“First off, from the bottom of my heart; fuck you.” He paused for effect, almost as if waiting for applause. “Second; I was Captain of my high school’s varsity football team and Captain America!”

You arched an eyebrow. “You were top meat head, and got fired from your first real job in like two seconds.” Now it was your turn to pause for effect.

You put your dominant hand on your waist and shifted your weight to one leg, popping out one round hip the way you always did when you got annoyed-tilting your head slightly as if to say seriously?!

He'd rather kiss Alexi than admit he thinks you’re smokin’  when you’re angry.

Then again, maybe he should. You’d be furious.

“Omg captain of the football team, I’m so impressed and have such a desire to submit to you, now.”  Sarcasm dripped from your words as you mocked being a teenage girl.

You missed the glint in his eye when you said the words he didn’t realize he wanted to hear; have such a desire to submit to you…

Fuck that would be…

ANYWAY – he shoved the fleeting thought aside, putting his shield on his back before  quickly storming toward you.

You couldn’t help but trip over your boots as you backed up just as quickly, needing a moment to collect yourself but getting none.

As much as you loved to joke that he was so tall because the length was taken from other places, it didn’t change the fact that he was 6’1 and you?

In your combat boots, you were up to his chest at best.

At best.

So when your back hit the cold steel wall, a small yelp leapt from your throat.

A tiny sound that made a cocky grin break across his features, straight  white teeth on display.

You could feel the heat coming off his body even through his suit, super soldiers always ran hot – especially when they were fired up.

His beard glistened slightly in the dull glow of the old lights placed along the walls that – somehow – still had some power left.

He placed his hands on the wall on either side of the dips of your waist, not touching but close enough that if you took too deep of a breath…

Said breath caught in your throat, mask starting to crack as your heart beat out of your chest.

His cologne surrounded you, reminding you just who was under that weird  cowl, hat thing.

He enraged you…but he was a good teamate, and fuck was he hot.

“With your powers gone, you’re pretty helpless aren’t you?” he stood close, looking down at you, emphasizing the size difference.

It was a weakness of yours you’d never tell.

Some of the butterflies in your stomach turned to bitterflies, your eyes hardening as you glared up at him - secretly hoping he didn’t have Bucky’s weird heightened senses.

If he did, he would smell how wet you were getting right now.

If he did, he would know about the way your clit throbbed when he gave you that slightly unnerving smile.

If he did, he’d have called you on it and since he hadn’t  you internally breathed a sigh of relief – deciding his brand of the serum must have forgone that part.

You were wrong, of course, but that was John’s little secret.

He definitely knew.

He knew it happened  whenever the two of you would bicker while alone and  he’d start to get aggressive, try to pin you or box you in and…boom!

Slip and slide in your panties.

(Part of him wanted to talk to you about the questionable personality traits you were turned on by)

Then you would overcompensate by being even more of a bitch, continuing to rile him up and get a reaction.

And another throb.

The cycle continues.

But again, this is John’s little secret.

If you knew that he knew, it wouldn’t happen as much and he couldn’t have that.

Messing with you was too much fun.

And now, it was just the two of you.

Alone.

Until one of you called for transport.

.

.

.

THROB.

-------

Thanks for reading! Re-blogs are always appreciated 💜

Check out my pinned post for more fics!

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 11 - Epilogue

CW: nightmares.

AN: I have had so much fun writing this. It was such a breath of fresh air to take a break from my main series and write a quick 'mini fic'. I have other ideas for more 'mini fic's' in the future. For now I thought I should wrap this up. Thank you for everyone who liked commented and shared this around, even for people who just read it and enjoyed it, thank you so much and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Previous parts - masterlist

As soon as Simon is discharged you all fly back to the UK.

You end up at the house with Simon on bed rest. Not that he listens, he’s worse than Johnny was. You stay in the house with them, sleeping in the bed with Simon so you can help him when he needs to pee in the middle of the night. 

John has been busy cleaning up the mess from the base as well as making sure Simon doesn’t get discharged. Him and Kyle usually spend their days out at a base somewhere leaving you Johnny and Simon at the house. You don’t mind, you’ll spend as much time as you can with them. 

Johnny cooks and cleans, Simon jokes he’s turning into a housewife. When you offer to help none of them will have it, doting on you almost as much as Simon. 

“You don’t have to feel guilty. I can do things for myself.” You remind them. 

“Don’t even think about it. What did you want? A sandwich?” Johnny asks and sticks his head out from round the kitchen. 

“Cheese and pickle.” You smile. Simon’s hands grip your waist pulling you back up against him.

“And a packet of quavers.” He whispers in your ear.

“And a packet of quavers.” You call. You lay back against him and he kisses your head. 

“You’re one tough cookie, you know that.” He says after a few minutes of silence. You turn to look up at him, frowning. 

“What Graves put you through. What I-” He chokes on the words. You break away from his embrace. 

“Stop. We don’t have to talk about this.” You say bringing your hand up to stroke his cheek. You sigh watching his eyes drop. 

“Simon.” You stop, you're not sure what you want to say. You pick up one of his hands. “It’s okay, I spent months in therapy, It’s part of the job. You were just doing your job.” 

He hangs his head and sighs. “It’s not fair, we shoulda waited, you deserve better.” You lean over and kiss him. Deep pressing your tongue in his mouth, you wrap one of your hands round the back of his neck. You pull away from the kiss put keep your forehead on his. 

“You don’t get to feel guilty Simon Riley. I forgive you. I love you.” You sit back on your knees looking at him, squeezing his hand, you smile. 

“I love you too.” He says. You rub his cheek again then turn to lay back in his arms. As soon as his arm has come round your chest, he plants a kiss on your head and Johnny comes in with a plate of food. Simon leans over picking up the packet of quavers. 

“Nothing else till later you’ll spoil yer tea, John’s bringing fish n' chips.” Johnny says walking out the room. You smile and reach over for your plate.

…

You must have fallen asleep in Simon’s arms because the slamming of the front door jumps you out of what was starting to feel like an overly realistic dream. The smell of fish and chip fat fills your nose as John and Kyle walk into the living room. 

“Have you two been sat their all day?” Kyle asks, kicking his shoes off. 

“Mother won’t let us leave.” You say, your voice grumbles with sleep. Simon starts to sit up and you do the same yawning and stretching your arms and legs. John has gone out into the kitchen while Kyle opens the bags of food on the coffee table. 

“Got cod, chips, peas and scraps. What do you want?” Kyle asks, John comes back with plates. Kyle serves Simon as John comes over to kiss the top of your head. You look up at him smiling.

“Busy day?” You ask as he strokes your chin with his thumb. 

“Always busy when we’re around.” John says going over to the other sofa. As Kyle piles a plate high with chips and fish for him, then passes it to him with a fork. 

“Heard back from the medical board yet?” Johnny asks as he comes into the room with a bottle of pop and glasses. 

“As a matter of fact-” John starts as he rests the plate on his lap reaching over to his bag next to the sofa. He rummages through muttering to himself until he pulls out a piece of paper. He hands it out to Simon. “Expect to see you back for duty in a month, Lieutenant.” John smiles. Johnny’s giddy snatching the paper out John's hand and reading it like he almost doesn’t believe it. 

“Fuck you got a whole 2 months off. I only got a month.” He says reaching over to hand it to Simon. “I even had one of those lung things.” He says, shaking his head, clicking his fingers at you. 

“A lung resection.” You say leaning over Simon's shoulder to look at the letter. 

“Took half me bloody lung out! I’ll never smoke again.” He says sitting down on the sofa next to John. You look at Kyle chuckling and scooting back on the floor to sit between John's legs. 

“You don’t smoke Johnny.” You say looking back over at him. John is fishing through his bag for something else. He reaches out to you. It’s folded up in an envelope. 

“Transfer papers. For you to sign. That is if you really do want to come back.” There’s silence in the room, the only noise coming from the low volume of the TV, everyone is looking at you as you reach out to take the papers. You smile nodding then sit back on the sofa opening them up. 

You hear Johnny and Kyle start up a conversation as you read over the standard legal jargon of the contract. You do want to join 141 again, you just hope nothing has changed.

…

You dream a lot about your torture, thats normal thats to be expected. When it’s a good day it’s Graves and his faceless shadows. When it’s a bad day its John and Simon, Simon never has his mask on unlike your actual torture. 

He didn’t do it, Ghost did. That's what you tell yourself when you wake in a pool of sweat panting, feeling like someone is sitting on your chest. Your legs and arms tingle. 

Yesterday was a good day, but you dreamt it was John. You look over in the bed trying to slow your breathing. Simon’s back is turned to you, you can hear him snoring softly. You turn over in bed sitting up. Your transfer papers sit on your bedside table, illuminated by the crack in the curtains. 

You get up and sneak out the room trying to be as quiet as you can so you don’t wake Simon. You step over the hall to John’s room. When you push the door open you see him and Kyle lying in bed. Suddenly you want to go back, leave them be. 

You can’t, you want to be with them. You slowly crawl on the bottom of the bed, Kyle has his back pressed up against John, as soon as he feels you start to wiggle between him he snaps awake. 

“Hey love, you okay?” Kyle asks making room so you can crawl in. 

“Yeah.” You whisper shuffling under the sheets. John turns around in the bed his arm coming over you to reach Kyle. A second later he seems to notice you in the bed, his hand comes up to brush your face.

“Something wrong, you’ve been crying love?” He says his voice deep from sleep. You didn’t even realise that. 

“I just missed you,” You say, turning to face him. His thumb brushes your cheeks, your eyes have adjusted to the light and you can see his eyes shining in the dark. 

“We’re all here.” Kyle says shifting up behind you pulling your shoulder slightly so you lay against him. You smile. 

“I know, I know you are.” You say, closing your eyes. Kyle kisses the top of your head and John moves closer to you pulling the duvet up to your neck. He kisses you, a soft peck on your lips, you feel the tickle of his beard. His arm rests on your waist, rubbing your side as he breaks away from the kiss. 

You close your eyes letting them hold you in their arms, the sound of their breathing lulls you back to sleep. 

…

You’re up early the next morning slipping out the bed before anyone else is up. You’re sat at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in your hands when John makes his way over to the coffee machine. 

“Mornin’” he says, turning it on. 

“You going to the base today?” You ask taking a sip as he takes a mug down from the cupboard.

“Yeah, still got a bunch of intel to go through on the Makarov leads.” he says, turning to look at you while the coffee machine warms up. You slide the envelope over to him. 

“Think I can help?” You ask, smiling. He comes round to you, throwing his arms around you before you have a chance to stop him. He buries his nose into your neck and you hug him back. 

“You know for a second I was worried you changed your mind.” He breaks from the hug cupping your cheeks. 

“I love you.” You say. He kisses you.

“I love you too.” You smile the biggest smile at him as you hear the coffee machine beep.  

“Mornin’ lass sleep well?” Johnny asks, his hand landing on your back. John gets up going back to the coffee machine. 

“Yeah. I did.” You smile going to take another sip of your tea. 

You sleep well that night too, squished between Johnny and Simon. There are no more bad day or good day dreams. Nightmares come sometimes but it’s always Graves and his faceless shadows, and when you do wake in a panic someone is always there. John or Simon, Kyle or Johnny. They’re always by your side.  

You stick by their side too, besides someone has to pull the bullets out of them.

Banners by firefly-graphics

[sixfootrod]

I just saw a TikTok where the wife was on the ground in pain from ovarian cysts and the husband was being a jerk.

I was wonder how would Price help his significant other, who was dealing with that.

This is oddly random, but I’m here for it.

Price is a man that’s seen all kinds of injuries throughout the years — I mean, 18+ years of military service will give you a lot of knowledge. (I needed to research for this).

to the person who sent the other ask (you know who you are), I’m working on it. I’m bad at writing smut. It’s coming, I promise.

He’d noticed you’d been a little off. Complaining a lot more about period cramps, which was nothing new, was it? He’d been with multiple women in the past, he knew all about it. A hot water bottle and some cuddles, and he figured you’d be right as rain.

Well, he thought so.

John had never felt genuine fear like he had when he’d walked into the kitchen — expecting to see you back on your feet, cooking something for yourself or maybe refilling your water bottle. But instead, the sight of you kneeled down on the floor greeted his eyes. And it was one he never wanted to see again.

His feet were moving before his mind had even registered it — heavy footsteps making their way over to you before taking a knee, and placing a hand on your back. “Darlin’, what’s goin’ on? Cramps, or—“

“I don’t know,” you hiccuped, instinctively curling yourself closer into him. John cursed internally, moving a hand towards your stomach and rubbing over it gently. Just to see if it would help. Part of him was panicking internally. Captain John Price; the cold, unfeeling bastard who was usually so composed in any situation, felt helpless here. Yet, he concealed his panic and schooled his expression back into place.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha. c’mon, bug.” He grunted — gently helping you stand from the floor.

And one GP appointment later? An ovarian cyst. Well, shit. Part of him felt guilty. He should’ve seen the signs, should’ve called 111 or something once you started complaining—

But the sight of you now, curled up against his chest, blanket covering you was enough to soothe his worry. He was still silently fuming about how long it’d taken just to get you into the GP.

[wrestlersownmyheart]

"Yeet Of Fate" Chapter 1 (Jey Uso X Female Reader)

Title: Yeet Of Fate Pairing: Jey Uso X Female Reader Summary: When you, an aspiring author, decide to take your skills to the world of wrestling, you decide to shadow and tag along with a couple of wrestlers to learn more about the sport for your upcoming book debut. None other than the Royal Rumble winner, Jey Uso, is the male wrestler you will be working with, and needless to say, that makes you nervous. You tell yourself, things will stay platonic. You tell yourself that…

Jey Uso is at the top of his game, the last thing he needs is a fan trailing around after him and fan girling all over the place. He wants to do his job, bask in the glory of it and call it a day. Not have to answer questions all day long from a wannabe writer. That's how he feels, until he meets Y/N face to face. She isn't what he expected. And he doesn't like to be wrong. As beautiful as she is he will keep things platonic. He tells himself that… Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Jey kind of starts out as a douche in this. Be warned. He won't be that way forever! Also, I started out making Jey Champ from the beginning of the story but I rewrote it so that this starts out before Wrestlemania. Just a heads up! Also, I know that in reader Fics you're not supposed to describe Y/N's appearance, and I'm a BIT guilty of that here, but I tried to do it in an obscure way. Hope it's okay! 🙂

Chapter 1

You pulled up tumblr on your laptop and checked for any new messages, or notifications. You saw you had a new private message waiting for you, and you excitedly went right to it–for the moment forgetting all other notifications.

The top message in your message list was from none other than "CatLadyWrestler" a.k.a Natalya Neidhart. She was a lurker on tumblr as a few of the wrestlers were. You'd found out who she was because she'd accidentally made a post to tumblr first, and then tweeted the exact same post from her official twitter more than five minutes later. You'd messaged her and point blank asked her if she was the real Natalya citing that reason, and knowing she was caught, she was honest and said, "That's between you and me!"

You'd struck up a friendship with her ever since and you'd kept her secret so she wouldn't get bombarded on Tumblr.

As you opened her latest message to you, you felt a shiver of excitement. This was it. Possibly your big break into the writing industry. It was do or die time.

"Hey, Y/N! I think we can definitely make this happen. I'll talk to Naomi and we'll see if we can get you to shadow Jey and maybe Rhea since they ride everywhere together, that just makes sense. Would that be okay?"

You instantly wrote back that it would be great. You did however have your doubts. How in the world could you expect to shadow THE Main Event, Jey Uso? The man that had beat John Cena to become the 2025 Royal Rumble winner. And of course, the three-time Women's World Champion, Rhea Bloody Ripley?

"When Nattie does something, she goes all out," you commented to yourself.

Nattie instantly wrote you back and said that if you'd give her your phone number she'd call or text you with details. Then she messaged again and said, "In fact, I'll give you a quick call right away so you can hear my voice and know one-hundred percent that it's me, lol."

You knew it was her regardless because of the timing of her Tumblr and Twitter posts, but nonetheless you quickly sent her your number and waited.

No more than a minute later, your phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Y/N! It's so great to finally hear your voice!"

It was unmistakably Natalya's deep throaty voice. "Nattie?– Uh, Natalya?"

"Yes, and you can totally call me Nattie. How are you?"

"I'm great! It's great to hear your voice too!"

"Glad to hear it! So, I was thinking we'd get Naomi to talk to Jey about you shadowing Rhea and him. I'm sure they'll go for it."

"That sounds amazing, Nattie. I can't thank you enough!"

"It's no problem! I've read some of your fanfictions and I'm really impressed with your writing ability–so of course I'd love to help you take off your writing career! And your wrestling knowledge… You seem to know the business pretty well to not have worked in the industry. Have you ever done anything to do with wrestling?"

"No, not at all. I just try to imagine everything, really."

"Wow, you're really gifted. I have to do what I can to help you for sure."

"Nattie, I don't know what to say. Other than thank you. Why are you helping me so much?"

"Because I want to," she replied, a smug tone in her voice. "You have had a friend before, right?" she teased.

"Well, yes, of course! But I just… I don't want you guys to go to any trouble."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. Trust me." She chuckled. "Just give us a couple of days to get it set up and I'll call you or text with the details. In fact, I can give Jey and Rhea your number if you want and they can get a hold of you soon."

You both agreed on a good round-about-time to call you, and then Natalya said she needed to go to the performance center.

"Hopefully I'll see you in a couple days or so," she exclaimed.

"Yes, I hope so! Thanks again!"

"Don't mention it! See ya!"

You both hung up and you returned to your tumblr, checking your remaining notifications from your friends.

After a few moments of scrolling your timeline, your phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Hi! This is Rhea. Nattie gave me your number and I thought Jey and I could do a group call with you to work out some of the details before you come visit with us!"

"Oh, that's great, so you're both on the line?"

"Yep," came Jey's unenthusiastic answer.

"Hi guys, it's nice to sort of meet you," you exclaimed with a chuckle. "I wasn't expecting a call so quickly. It's awesome to hear from you."

"We're excited to meet you, and are thrilled you want to learn from us. Isn't that right, Jey?"

"Yep," came the same reply.

Somehow you didn't feel that Jey was all that excited about your visiting with them. But you understood. He probably thought that you were going to be talking his ear off about wrestling and fan girling all over him. You didn't blame him in the least. Rhea on the other hand was way more bubbly than you expected from the wrestler. She seemed so dark on television.

"I just want to say thanks for letting me do this," you told them. "I promise I won't get in your way, and I won't gab your ear off. I just want to basically follow you around and observe everything. You won't even know I'm there, I promise."

"How are you going to do this," Jey asked suddenly. "I mean, what about your job–time off? Do you have a family that needs you? Can you afford to keep up with the travel and all that?"

"Jey!" Rhea scolded.

"Hey, they're valid questions."

"No he's right to be concerned about all that, Rhea. I have not taken a vacation from my job–I'm a librarian–in two years, so they are forcing me to take two weeks off, paid. I have no husband, boyfriend or children to care for, so that's not a problem. And I believe I have plenty of savings to cover all the expenses." You were slightly annoyed, so you added, "Is there anything else you are wondering about?"

"I wasn't concerned," Jey said. "I just didn't want us to get into a situation where money for you is an issue."

"It's not, I can assure you."

There was a long pause.

"Good."

You were beginning to get very annoyed then. You could see his side on one hand, on the other, he was being very rude. He was nothing like what you saw on television. He was quickly sliding down your list of favorite wrestlers. Already. And you hadn't even met him yet.

"Well, now that that is settled, why don't we talk about meeting up," Rhea finally said after an uncomfortable silence. "Why don't you meet us at Sacramento International Airport, day after tomorrow? You could wait for us and have a sign that has our names on it? That way we'd know who you are."

"Yeah, I can do that," you replied. "I can also text you a selfie, Rhea, since I have your number. That way you'll recognize me."

"Great," Rhea said. You could hear a smile in her voice. "We'll meet then and there. If you have any questions, give me a call."

"Will do, Rhea. Thanks again!"

"No problem. Bye!"

"Bye!"

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You held up the sign that read: "JEY & RHEA" and waited on the two wrestlers to come find you. You smoothed down imaginary wrinkles in your black pencil skirt and adjusted the long sleeves of your black blouse. You hoped you didn't look like you were dressed for a funeral–you were going for a business-like look. You wanted Rhea and Jey to take you seriously as an author.

Your phone rang, interrupting your thoughts, and you heard an exasperated sigh after answering.

"Where are you?"

Jey.

"I'm at the baggage carousel waiting on you." You said, trying not to show too much attitude, but you were already tired from your flight to Sacramento International Airport and you were nervous. Jey's demeanor wasn't helping.

"Mouthy woman." you heard him grumble under his breath. "Okay, fine, we're coming to meet you there."

Click.

No "bye", "see you in a minute", nothing. He just hung up.

"Wow," you thought aloud.

Suddenly, you spotted both Rhea and Jey heading for you, and you pocketed your phone.

"Hi guys," you greeted. Rhea rushed forward and gave you a quick hug. "Oh gosh, it's so great to meet you!" she exclaimed. Jey stood awkwardly to the side and eyed you closely through his sunshades. They were both taller than you imagined. Jey absolutely towered over you, which made him even more intimidating to you.

"Hi," you greeted him, and stuck your hand out to shake. He took it reluctantly in his own large hand and gave it a quick shake.

"Well, shall we get our luggage?" You suggested, turning to the baggage claim carousel and folding up your sign to tuck away in your handbag.

The three of you went over and began looking for your bags. You grabbed yours and began lowering the rolling suitcase to the floor, when Jey took it from you.

"What are you doing? I can take care of it," you said, trying not to be any trouble whatsoever. You reached for the suitcase, but Jey pulled it out of your reach.

"My mama didn't raise a heathen. I treat women with respect. That includes carrying their luggage."

"Rhea is carrying hers," you argued, as Jey then got his luggage and began rolling it toward the Enterprise car rental company.

"Rhea isn't your typical woman," Jey shot back, as he wheeled your luggage behind him.

You looked over at Rhea, expecting her to look offended, but she actually looked proud. "It's true. I'm not."

You followed the two and within a half hour, you were riding in the back of a large SUV, your luggages all tucked into the cargo area and Jey in the driver's seat.

"I know I said I wouldn't gab your ears off, and I won't, but I do need to ask some questions here and there. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Rhea answered. "We live for this kind of thing. We live to talk about it."

"So you basically, book your flights to where you're going to go next, and board your flight, get to your destination, rent a car and get to your hotel. Then you drop off your things, and spend a lot of time practicing your matches and training between shows?"

"That's pretty much it," Rhea said. "Every now and then we have meetings but not super often. We also have to find time to learn and practice our lines for promos."

"That's a lot. I can't imagine doing all that," you said. "Thank you guys for what you do. Really. The entertainment is something I'm sure we all take for granted, so just… thank you."

"No problem. We love it," Rhea replied with a smile. You saw Jey glance at you in the rearview mirror, but he said nothing.

The female wrestler was quite pretty without all the dark makeup she wore in the ring. But you figured she wouldn't be the same Rhea Bloody Ripley without all the black eyeshadow and lipstick.

You reached the Golden 1 Center pretty quickly, and again, you tried to get your luggage out of the car, but Jey scoffed and took it from you again. Shrugging, you followed behind as he and Rhea headed to the elevator in the parking garage. You all rode up to the main lobby and proceeded to locate dressing rooms, and catering, and the area the wrestlers all practiced. You followed them wordlessly, in amazement. You couldn't believe you were among all your favorite wrestlers right now! It was a dream come true!

"You wanna shadow me or Rhea tonight?" Jey asked, stopping in the hallway and looking back at you.

"Um, I can do whatever is more convenient for you guys. If you think I'll be in your way, I can shadow Rhea tonight."

"It doesn't matter," Jey said, "Take your pick."

"Okay, I'll shadow you."

"Okay, you can hang with me in my dressing room and just basically follow me around I guess."

You nodded, taking your IPAD out of your bag so you could take notes on it.

"Hey, Jey! Who's the girl?"

You both turned to face Sami Zayn. You smiled and stretched your hand out to shake. Sami took it and gave it a gentle shake. "I'm Y/N. I'm here to shadow Rhea and Jey for a book I'm writing."

"Oh, an author," he exclaimed. "What do you write about?"

"Romance mainly," you said, running your hand over your hair. "With some suspense thrown in. It's my first book, but I've written tons of Fanfiction. Nattie has read some of them and really enjoyed them."

"Awesome," Sami said. He smiled warmly at you. "Good luck with the book!"

"Thank you," you said as he approached Jey then and did their special handshake. You backed into the dressing room, to let them talk in private and began taking things you'd need out of your bag, such as a spiral notebook, and a pen. You got your tablet booted up and waited as Jey and Sami talked.

Not long later, Jey entered the room and saw you writing in your notebook.

"You already writing on the book?"

"Oh, no, not yet," you replied with a smile. "Just taking notes right now."

"So, you write romance stories?"

"Yeah," you said with a flush to your cheeks.

"Fanfiction to be exact," Jey went on, "So how many of us have you written about?"

Your blush deepened. "A fair few."

"So you write sex scenes about us and everything?"

You could see he was literally trying to fluster you.

So you beat him at his own game and looked him in the eyes.

"No. I don't write that way. I am not saying sex isn't involved in my stories, but I like to leave it to the reader's imagination, so I don't write about smut. Thank you very much."

He stared at you for a minute, seemingly surprised.

"If you don't believe me, you're welcome to check my stories out on tumblr, and see for yourself. Or check with Nattie. She's read a lot of them and she'll tell you the truth."

"Fair enough." His dark eyes glanced away from you then and if you didn't know any better you'd say he was a bit flushed even through his tan.

That's okay, Jey Uso. You thought. Just keep treating me this way. You'll soon find that I'm very good at turning the other cheek.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Jey watched the young woman sitting on his sofa as she typed off on her tablet. He couldn't figure her out. He wanted to dislike her–to flat out ignore her, but she came into the place so poised and graceful, that he couldn't help but notice her. She knew what she wanted to do with her life, he could see that. She wanted to write. And she wanted to do it correctly. He admired that if the truth be known. He felt the same way about wrestling. He didn't want to mess one thing up in the ring. He could relate to her on that level, at least.

He continued to watch her while she was unaware. He liked her confidence. She was mouthy but he had to admit that was a bit of a turn-on. One thing he liked in a woman was fire. He also liked curves, which she had. The black pencil skirt she wore seemed to accentuate her hips in just the right way. And the blouse… it hugged her slender form perfectly.

Okay, Uce, time to reel it in, he thought to himself. No way are you getting involved with her. She's here to do a job. And so are you. That's it.

Still, his gaze found its way over to her more often than not.

And Y/N, thankfully, seemed oblivious of that fact.

If you want on my tag list, just ask! 😃

Tagging:

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[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Northern Attitude

Next chapter

a/n guilty... guilty... guilty... I caved in. I own up to my weaknesses. Promised myself to never write for this man and here I am now. This is my first time so be gentle. 🗡️🫧

summery: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: injuries, blood, bleeding out, alcohol, needles, death, trauma fun stuff.

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You two hated each other. That was a fact, and there was no way around it. It was scowling glares, sharp jabs during training if you two were paired together, and bitter remarks thrown here and there. And the joy of it all was that Price had granted you a shared room on the base. First, the excuse was that there was simply not enough room; the team had grown. Then he said he wasn't having a team that was up on biting each other's necks out. So in conclusion, he had set it up on purpose.

Did it help? No. It was a disaster. The man was insufferable. And, in all honesty, you had no idea what you had done. You had thrown a sexist card at him multiple times because you simply couldn't find another reason for his unmeasured dissatisfaction as to why you shouldn't be here. Never had he said anything nice your way. You got it; the guy was secretive. You didn't need to look far. The fact that he never took his mask off was proof enough. But to be so against someone you didn't even spend time with?

"Clean your mess", Ghost huffed, dropping his wet towel on the bed. You lifted your head away from your book. At least you two had separate beds on the opposite sides of the room. "It's on my side", you said, pointing to the white line that Ghost had drawn on the floor like a kid the first night you dragged your stuff here. The rule was simple: you stayed on your side, he on his. The bathroom was the only exception. "Yeah, I have to look at it, don't I", he grumbled, tossing the towel into the laundry basket. You paid him no mind, your eyes turning back to the pages. "Poor you, does it mess with your posh tea time?", you chuckled under your breath, earning a growl from the other side of the room.

And that's how it went. More than not, you considered any word coming out of Ghost's mouth a win. Because a new tactic the asshole had adopted was pretending that you weren't even a thing. You were an actual ghost, and Simon didn't believe in the paranormal clearly. You fastened your vest, double-checking that your on-hand weapons were right where you wanted them. "Do you need me to do a touch-down for you?", your head darted up, only to be met with a smug-looking scot. Soap. You couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle. "Do you think that if you keep asking, the answer will eventually change?", you snickered back, shaking your head. Soap shrugged. "You tell me, bonnie?", the man teased back. Leave it to Johnny to joke around right before a mission. You hummed, "Maybe I'm more into you undoing it", Gaz snickered somewhere in the back. Soap's smirk grew even bigger. You knew that it was all good fun. Neither of them would make a move. They respected you. To most, you were like a sister. They had become your family. One you never had. Before Soap could say anything in return, the back door swung open, and in strolled Ghost. God, he looked good. Six feet of pure muscle. And when this man was in his full gear... You allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the way he looked before dropping your gaze. Suddenly, you were way more interested in the guns on the table than anything else.

Johnny came to stand next to you as the team gathered around the table. Price loved to gather everyone around before it all went off. John was like a father to most. You were no exception. You liked to tease the boys that you were his number one. His girl. And well, by law, you were. Considering that he pulled you out of the foster home, you owned this man a lot, even if he said that it was all in the past.

"You know the drill; go in, grab what you need, and get out. Try to keep it clean", Price said, pulling three sheets of paper and scattering them around on the table. "Soap and Ghost, you're together. I'll go with Gaz. Sugar, you're alone on this; we will clean the path for you, though". It was supposed to be a joke that name. You wanted something cool. Something as cool as Ghost, but Johnny was quick to remind you that his nickname was soap "And sugar", He had said, "That's quite literally white death". So it stuck.

You nodded your head, only to find Ghost shaking his. "Got something against it, LT?", you snarled. His eyes met yours over the table. With the war paint, his eyes were even more radiant. "She can't go alone. She doesn't know how to hold herself back and will do something stupid", now it was your turn to growl. Scratch the fact that you found this man attractive. You will suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep when you return to base. "Want to go with her, Ghost?", Price said calmly, knowing full well the answer would be a hard no. "We meet in the safe house afterward", Price continued without acknowledging the death glare Ghost was wearing, "Come back in one piece, you bunch". Everyone nodded quietly, reaching for the masks, double-checking the cartridges and radios. You were all climbing into the motorcar when Soap nudged your shoulder. "I'll hold you to the undressing part", he winked, hurrying to sit down. Your anger simmered down as you flipped him off in return, his laughter booming. It was Ghost, whose unimpressed eyes followed you two, gripping the gun in his hands tightly as he chose to stare ahead.

It was nothing—the mission. The base that needed to be checked out was pretty much abandoned. A couple of kills. A smoke bomb here and there. It was easy. Simple. They laid a clear path for you to do your thing. Your small frame was what they needed here. Air vents weren't the best of friends with hulky soldiers. "Do your worst, Sugar", Price had muttered into the radio some time ago. Your response was a cold, "Copy". The four of them were left to watch over the main entry points. Yet sending you into the belly of the beast felt wrong. At this point, Simon had lost count of the number of times he had reached for his radio, ready to call out to you. But he talked himself out every time.

"Got it", your voice pierced the silence. Ghost's shoulders drooped. "Good girl, bring it home", Price called back. Soap looked out of the window, "We should go meet them at the-", but his voice was cut by the cracking that came from the radio. Then it all died down. Silence. Soap locked eyes with Ghost. "Price, you copy?", Soap called out. Silence struck again. "All good here, you copy?", the captain called out. "Positive", Ghost muttered into the radio. Gunshots echoed deep within the base. It was you. The noise had to come from you. Ghost felt his heartbeat picking up. He had to find a way to get to you. To cover you. Yet the rational side of his brain screamed at him, saying that there was no way for him to do so.

The crackling filled the air around him once more as they rushed toward the spot where the team had agreed to meet. "Abort", your breathless voice came through the radio. "Get your asses out", you were panting. Ghost could hear you reloading your gun. "Sugar, what's the situation?", even Price's voice sounded more panicked. And the old man kept his cool. They all did. This whole shit could have been a setup for all they knew. Even outside, the sound of bullets pierced the silence didn't ease. Simon wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but your labored voice still twisted at his heart, "Get. Out."

The safe house had never felt so quiet. Usually, at least Soap was a never-ending chatterbox. Now the male stood in front of the window. Not moving. His eyes were glued to the forest in front of him. Price was half a bottle down on the bourbon. Gaz's leg hadn't stopped bouncing. They all had minor bruises, but that was expected.

"We need to go back", Soap said, rubbing his palms together. "You know that we can't, Johnny", Price puffed out a cloud of smoke. He was no doubt thinking of ways he was going to break the news to his wife. "She wouldn't fucking leave us", Soap snarled back. You would expect a handful of army men to be able to hold their composure in situations like this, but... You had dragged them all out of a dark pit. You were undoubtedly good at what you did, yes. But you offered much more. The safety blanket. A proper homemade meal when there was time, and that was a lot for a man who had been stuck in the base for months, missing home. There had been so much more laughter and smiles since you joined the force. As if you had breathed back humanity and a sense of life into their ice-cold bones. And now they all had to go back to...

The handle of the back door creaked. All four of them reached for their guns in unison. But no one besides them was supposed to know where the keys had been stashed. A lucky coincidence? The odds were too slim. But the door jerked open, and they all lost the breath they were holding.

"What a fucking greeting", you muttered, dropping your helmet to the side. Soap moved toward you first. Simon would have loved to beat him to it, but he found himself sitting back down, his legs suddenly feeling wobbly. "Here", you yanked the chip from your vest, pushing it into Soap's hand. "Mission complete, captain", you eyed Price. Before moving to undo your gear. "How many?", John asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. The blood on your forehead was crusted. But the sound of drops hitting the wooden floor was constant. "Six", you breathed, moving to undo your vest, and that's when the first growl left your lips.

"You're bleeding", Johnny breathed, reaching for your shoulder, but you pulled away. "I'll lick my own wounds", your tone was cold. It was colder than it usually was. Ghost watched you slowly walk towards the stairs, but not before you had reached for the Bourbon. "I'll come to stitch you,", Price had called out, only to be harshly cut off with a harsh, "No".

You locked the doors behind yourself. Your vision was going hazy. You had managed to get away. You had no idea how because there had been a moment when you were sure that death was standing right behind your back, breathing at your neck. You had killed before, had blood sprayed all over you. Yet something about this felt different. Maybe it was the fact that there was a moment where you weren't the one in control. When they had managed to yank you across the floor by your ankle. You shivered at the image of a knife being jabbed on either side of you as you dodged blow after blow.

Your hands gripped the sink. You will do this. You will patch yourself up. Swallow a couple of pills and go to sleep. You knew there was no way you were getting your shirt off, so you wasted no time as you sliced the fabric with your pocket knife, wincing. Slowly peeling the damp material from your shoulder. Would this be easier if someone else did it for you? Yes. But you didn't want anyone's hands on you. Not now. Not when your brain was still fuzzy. The trickle of blood ran down your chest and through the sports bra you had on. You knew what followed next. You've done it multiple times. Drink bourbon. Splash some on the wound. Dig the fingers in to fish for the bullet. More bourbon. Stitch it up. You ran yourself through the steps one more time. One more look in the mirror before you force yourself to do just that.

Simon's hands were gripping the chair he was sitting on. Every little whimper from upstairs ripped at his composure. Stubborn girl, never knowing how to accept help. And a whimper, a whimper he could handle, but when a loud cry filled the quiet space, Simon was up and going. Every other step was skipped, and he was right in front of the second-floor bathroom. Hand on the handle as his shoulder hit the locked door. "Open up", Ghost banged his fist into the surface. "Go away", your voice was barely audible. Too long. He had sat downstairs for too long. He should have come barging in the moment you tried to play a big girl. Should have carried you back downstairs. "Don't make it bloody difficult", Simon's voice was husky. His own body ached, but he wasn't about to sit back and watch you bleed out.

You didn't answer him. "Sugar", he called out, "Open the fucking door, or I will break it", he wasn't even sure why he was bargaining with you now. But he respected your privacy. He always did. Even in the room you shared. His face was always facing the wall when he knew you were taking a shower. Just in case you had forgotten your clothes and would need to quickly get to your side of the room, this was different; his stalling could cost you your life. So he doesn't say anything else. Backing a couple of steps back, Simon braced himself for the impact. The hinges were old, so one shove from him was enough to break them; the rest he could handle with his two hands.

Ghost's breath hitched once more. "Stubborn, bloody woman", he hissed. The floor was covered in your blood; there was not a single clean towel. Your figure was slumped by the bath. "Price", his voice was more of a roar that made even you jerk your head up. "Get out", you breathed, trying to put distance between you two. "Like fuck, I will", Simon grunted, reaching towards you, his palm pressing into your shoulder. You cried out, your nails digging into his wrists, but the pressure didn't ease. "Fucking hell", the captain called from behind, "Get her downstairs".

"No", you hissed as Ghost lifted you, "Get away". But you knew that it was over now that they'd seen you. Simon tried to lower you down, but you whizzed in pain. "From the back", you say through gritted teeth. "What?", His eyes searched yours; you knew he was struggling to understand you. "The bullet", your breath, "from the back". Simon's eyes darted up to John, who slowly nodded his head, "Keep her up, then", and you could feel him pulling the rest of your shirt off.

"Liquid courage", a bottle was dangled right in front of you, and you could just about make out Soap's shaky hands. "I don't need it", you muttered, feeling the way Simon's chest rumbled with a disapproving growl. "Don't fight it, kid", Price called out from behind you, "You know how it's done". He was looking through the medical bag, no doubt making sure that he had everything he needed on hand. You open your mouth, and Soap quickly takes the hint, tilting the bottle upwards.

"Bite this and hold onto Simon's shoulders for me", the captain delivered his words like an order, but you still shook your head. "Jesus women, do you have a death wish or something?", Ghost muttered, hands moving from your legs that were still wrapped around his torso to your hands, pulling one of them over his shoulder and the other, the injured one, across his torso, so Price could work on it easier. But your palms stay pushed away from his skin. So does your chest. He was too close. You couldn't. Simon doesn't like his personal space being occupied by anyone.

"Deep breath for me", was the only last warning John gives you before you feel a pain like no other ripping through your back. And that was all it took. All it too, for your hands to clamp around Simon. Nails were in his skin as you yelled out, trying to pull away from whatever Price was doing. Simon's big palm cupped the back of your head, guiding you down onto his shoulder. "You got this, love", he muttered against your ear. The grip he had on you did not falter, not even for a second. "Almost there, Sug, just a bit more", Price said through gritted teeth. You could feel him digging through your back. The burning icy cold now.

Your body was working on its own accord. Hand reaching for the side of Ghost's face as another wave of pain ripped through you, making you holler out. Simon didn't pull away. And maybe you were high on pain, but you could swear you felt his lips against your palm. Kissing your skin through the material of his mask. Your breathing got shallow. You wanted to pull back to look up at him. Into his eyes. At least one more time. But your body felt heavy. Your fingers gently caressed the side of his face. The smell of him calmed you. You pressed a weak kiss against his neck, feeling a shiver running down his back.

"Keep her talking, Simon,", Price grumbled in frustration. Something probably wasn't going how it was supposed to. But it was okay. You had made your peace with it. "Come on, look at me", Simon pulled your limp head away from his shoulder, tapping your cheek a couple of times. "Keep your eyes open, eh? Or I'll leave my wet towels all over our room for the rest of the month", there was a tinge of something new in his voice. Some kind of light worry. Frustration. You blinked a couple of times, the corners of your lips turning upwards. "You wouldn't dare", you rasped out, your mouth feeling way too dry all of a sudden. "Why is that?", Simon asked straight away, his eyes not leaving yours. You let yourself breathe for a bit; you didn't have enough strength to answer right away. "I'll get you pink sheets and...", a cough made your body seize, and Ghost's grip on you tightened instantly. And there. There it was. A flash of worry caught his eye. "A fuzzy rug", you finished finally. Simon's palm ran over your sweaty forehead. "I'd like to see you try, darling", he breathed out, but there was no amusement in his voice.

"She's too fucking pale, Price", you heard Soap's voice from the side, or at least it sounded like it. "Shut up, Johnny,", the captain grumbled. "Don't close your eyes, Sugar", you felt another nudge from Ghost, making you blink up at him once more. "It's cold", you muttered, feeling your hand slip down his torso, falling limp by your leg. "John", Ghost said in a warning tone. He was trying to make you hold back on him, but your hand slipped away every time.

It was the way your hand limped against Simon's face that sent the last wave of panic through him. Your clammy skin pressed against him. And he was back there, back in the house where his family was killed. No, he couldn't lose you. Not now that he had found you. Not without you knowing that he also cared, just like everyone else. "Y/N", he called out softly. He had never called you by your real name. Never had a chance to see if your eyes would shimmer when he did. "Don't do this", he breathed again your not injured shoulder, "Don't you dare fucking die on me". But he was met with nothing. Only then did he realize that he would have to live with nothing but regret and your blood on his hands. All because he couldn't find a way to let your light shine through his cold demeanor. All because he was afraid of the fact that he had found himself caring again.

[100gayicons]

Montgomery Clift helped redefine masculinity in the movies of the 1950s. Rather than portray macho men like John Wayne, Clift showed that men can also be sensitive and caring.

He was a success on stage and Broadway, and waited until he was 26 years old before agreeing to make a movie— Red River (shot in 1946 but released in 1948). And he refused to sign a long-term contract because he didn’t want the studio to dictate which roles he could play.

You can learn the details about Clift’s career online— his four Oscar nominations, his friendship with Elizabeth Taylor, a horrible car accident that disfigured him, and his declining health that led to an early death at the age of 46.

Montgomery Clift hated the press intruding into his personal life.

"I learned that most writers don't need interviews to write about me. They seem to have their stories all written out beforehand."

So much of his life story wasn’t known until the late 1970s with a pair of biographies about the actor. Both revealed he was a homosexual, and emphasized that Clift’s brooding nature and early death were the result of being repressed all of his life.

In 2018, Robert Clift wrote and produced a documentary— “Making Montgomery Clift” (2018). Its aim was to present a more accurate picture of his uncle’s life. Contrary to the homophobic myths perpetuated in the bios, Robert conducted interviews with two of Monty’s former lovers who don’t remember him as morose, ashamed, or guilt-ridden. Jack Larson was interviewed on screen, sharing stories about his 4-year relationship with Clift. He recalls a funny, robust man— nothing like the suicidal man described in the book.

Clift’s own family knew Montgomery wasn’t heterosexual. His mother said she knew he was a homosexual at the age of 12. Monty’s brother (Brooks, Richard’s father) knew Monty wasn’t heterosexual but bisexual. And he didn’t feel guilty about it.

Richard even includes a comparison of one of the author’s original notes, alongside the print text. It shows the author had changed a report of Clift being arrested with “a young man” - but scratched out and changed to “a boy” - and even worse, in the published book it states Clift was a “pederast”. The author was clearly infusing her homophobia into the narrative.

Montgomery Clift had relationships with both men and women.

William LeMassena - a stage actor, he and Clift had a 3-year relationship in the mid-40s before Clift left for Hollywood. "Our affair was for me the most beautiful experience in my life."

Phyllis Thaxter - Clift met Phyllis in the early 1940s when they both worked on Broadway. Most of their friends had assumed they would eventually get married.

Jerome Robbins - Monty met dancer and choreographer Jerome Robbins in the early 1940s when they both worked on Broadway. They became lovers but broke it off when Clift left for Hollywood in 1946.

Jack Larson - They met at the Warner lot in 1949 and had a 4-year relationship. Larson fondly recalled the day he and Monty had gone on an errand. The moment they were alone, Clift grabbed him and gave him a deep kiss.

Judy Balaban - Judy’s father (then president of Paramount Pictures) introduced her to Monty in 1951. They dated for several months. She said she was unaware Monty was bisexual until after they broke up.

Elizabeth Taylor - She costarred with Montgomery Clift in three films. They were rumored to be lovers as well. In 2000, while accepting an award for her efforts on behalf of the Gay community, she emphatically stated that Clift was gay and called him her closest friend and confidant.

Roddy McDowall - Elizabeth Taylor introduced Monty to Roddy in 1951 while they were filming A Place in the Sun. They had a relationship during the mid-1950s (concurrent with Monty’s relationship with Judy Balaban).

Truman Capote - They met in Italy in 1953 while Clift was filming “Indiscretion of an American Wife”. Capote was an uncredited screenwriter. They had a brief affair.

Libby Holman - A stage actress 16 years his senior. They met in the early 1950s and had a 10-year on-again, off-again relationship.

Lorenzo James - In Richard Clift’s documentary, Lorenzo was both Monty’s liver and caregiver during the final years of his life. (He declined to appear on camera.)

[as-is-above-so-below]

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 2: Midnight Rain

summary: you get yourself in a pickle a/n: hi! I return again! I'm sorry it's short, but I'm trying a new method of posting. Instead of aiming for a specific word count (which leads to me getting writer's block and not posting ANYTHING), I write until I'm satisfied with what I'm trying to achieve. Hopefully, I've achieved that goal, and y'all like it :) Blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

You drummed your fingers against the notebook in your lap and gnawed on the top of your pen. It was late, even by your standards; the sun had long since set, and dinner eaten hours ago. But you were up, sitting in the dark in your living room, heavy rain pelting your old windows. You were trying to pull together a new lesson plan for the following day. A few curious students had started asking questions about the modern military. Like, key differences between military strategies used in the time they were studying and today. And, of course, yet again, you made promises that you were struggling to keep. And you always keep your promises to your students.

Fuck.

The internet wasn’t helping at all. You didn’t study military strategy in any of your courses. Was that even a thing?

The last thing you wanted to do was call him. You were so confident that you could solve your problem yourself, at nine o’clock. Now, it was past midnight, and you were absolutely desperate.

Fuck.

Before your tired brain can flood with guilt and change its mind, you grab your phone from your nightstand and tap into your recent calls log. Your stomach churned, anxiety bubbling up with every trill. God, it’s so fucking late to be calling. It felt like you were split in two. One half of you was praying that his phone was on silent (you know it’s not) or he’ll sleep through the ringing (he won’t), while the other–the miserable, exhausted half–needed him to pick up.

The latter won out.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

John’s deep, sleepy voice made you feel guilty and incredibly happy that you’d woken him up. Soft and grumbly, rolling in his chest; it made you feel soft and warm inside…

Not the point of the call.

“Hi, John. I’m completely fine, I just…” You took a deep breath, the heel of your free hand pressed into one of your dry, worn-out eyes. “I know you’re this big important captain, and you have work in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a pickle and need a massive favor.”

There was a slight rustling on the other end like he had turned slightly to check the nearby time. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” he mumbled.

You felt even worse. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” you begged, running a hand over the top of your head. “One of my kids asked about the military. It sparked a whole discussion in class, and I may have overstated my knowledge. I barely know anything about it, and my brain is turning to mush. I’m so tired I wanna cry, and-”

He quickly cut off your rambling. “Woah, hey. Slow down there. What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake. 

That brought you pause. You honestly hadn’t thought what you would ask if John actually answered the phone through. It was one o’clock in the morning, which John had correctly pointed out, and your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. 

“I was…wondering if you could give me a lesson. Because I’m super tired, and I like to hear you talk.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from you just…talking to me? But I’m a history teacher. I’m an expert on wars, not war.”

There was some shuffling on the phone. On the other line, John was leaning over the edge of his bed, searching blindly for his little pocket planner in the pile of clothes on the floor. The rustling stopped when he placed the device on his pillow, rifling through the calendar. He sniffed and was quiet for a moment, while you nibbled anxiously at your pen. Again.

The silence finally broke with a tired sniffle from John. “I can do you better. Why don’t I come to your classes tomorrow?” he asked.

You froze, pen still between your teeth. John? Coming to your school? Spending the day with your students? That would be the equivalent of introducing your boyfriend to your children. 

“…Really?”

“Sure.”

Could you even call him your boyfriend? You’d been on a few dates, sure, over the last…two months? No, it was closer to three. Had it been that long already? You did some quick math in your head. You’d gone on about one date a week, with a few canceled due to last-minute commitments. Still, about one date a week, over three months…

Holy shit.

“John, I’m sure you’re busy. I couldn’t-”

“Not at all,” he hummed, cutting you off. “Besides, it would take me ‘til class tomorrow to give you a good enough rundown, and the boss loves shite like this.”

“I thought you were the boss?”

You could practically hear a small smile tugging at John’s lips. The expression was a familiar one. The corner of his mouth quirked up, shifting his beard and creating happy wrinkles near his eyes. His nose would scrunch up a bit, too, especially if you were out in cold weather. 

“Everybody has a boss, sweetness. Myself included.”

Christ. Not the pet names. And especially not in the tired, gravelly tone his voice was currently in. John Price was going to be the death of you, even in his unfocused state.

You unfolded your legs from underneath you and moved your notebook onto the coffee table. Your resolve was fading, and you couldn’t be bothered to argue. While you did feel bad about dragging John to your school to fix the problem you created, you weren’t sure you had any other option. Accept defeat? To a group of teenagers? Absolutely not. You’d never live it down. You sighed, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

A soft smile crossed your face. “Is this just a ploy to meet my kids?”

“Maybe.”

Your sleepy giggles were like music to John’s ears. The sound alone was worth the favor. As if he wouldn’t have done it anyway, just to ease your stress. He would take any and every opportunity to make your day easier or make you happy. What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh in person, laying beside you in your bed–

No. John’s a good man. A gentleman, he would say. A man who was perfectly capable of not acting on his urges and thoughts. At least, not in person. However, in the privacy of his own home? That was a different story.

“Thank you so much, John.”

Right. You’re still on the phone. He heard a soft click on your end of the call.

“That’d better be you closing your laptop, I’m hearing.”

“It is.”

“Good girl.” You blushed furiously. Fuck. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

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